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Friday 8th June 2018

5673/18693

I am very sorry that months of boring tour blogs are about to be followed by weeks of boring dad blogs. But this journal is somewhat limited to stuff that is happening to me, or if I am lucky enough to have time to think, stuff that I have been thinking. And today, in the most part I parented.
It’s exactly what I was missing when I was away and today I got to live it and fortunately both my kids were in the most charming of moods with barely any 3 year old strops of 8 month old inexplicable sobbing. My daughter and invented a version of balloon tennis with rather fluid rules, which pretty much allowed her to win every point. But I was pleased to see she didn’t go off the deep end if I did win a point here and there. And if I won two in a row she’d just say, “Come on dad, you can’t win every point.”
Then we moved on to doing some painting with proper messy paints. I was in control enough to remember to put her in her little protective jacket, but I ended up with paint all over my new trousers. We created some weird scapes of smeared colours and hand prints. And managed to keep most of the paint off the walls.
Later we played goodies (not those ones) and baddies in the garden whilst Ernie tried to eat a scooter from the comfort of his stroller. There was lots of running around and then falling over and rolling in the grass. It was only spoiled by the fact that I couldn’t help thinking that this was all the first scene of a film where everything was about to go wrong. But to be fair with Brexit and Trump it’s pretty certain that everything is about to go wrong. So that’s not an idle thought.
I gave the kids their dinner and they stayed well behaved, my son looking up at me with his big blue innocent eyes that are about to see unimaginable horrors.
We are off on holiday tomorrow for more idyllic days/awful family disasters and Catie and me had a great Thai takeaway tonight (and as fun as the kids are, it’s so much greater to be getting some rest and relaxation with my wife). But mainly we slept. Parenting is never easy, but it’s a bit easier when one of us isn’t away half the time acting like a pranny for a living.
Sorry that's a very rude thing to say about my wife.


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