For Gatso and friends, 0 STTs in 1 month.

[thetank]

Day 8 - Making broom broom

After 2,156,732 lessons, the world's worst driver is finally ready to book their test. February the 29th is the big day, and not before time. Tomorrow I start work at 6am and have to fork out £16 on a taxi (all the trains and buses are still asleep). I have this shift two or three times a week, so passing my test will save us best part of £200 every month.

Learning to drive was something I never bothered with when I was younger, I just made sure that I lived right next to wherever I needed to be. I started instruction last year, with a view to driving Coco to the hospital when Molly was due. That didn't exactly pan out, as it turns out I'm rather slow at picking up practical skills.

I've been through four different instructors. The first was an elderly gentleman, who politely asked me to find someone else as his heart simply couldn't take it any longer.

The second was a tall drink of piss, who I left waiting outside my door while I was playing the final table of a poker tournament. Very rude of me, but EV is EV, and I wasn't really responding to his tuition anyway.

The third was the chap who taught Coco to drive, and he was fantastic, but only a part-time instructor. After a recent promotion at his day job, he had less and less free time for lessons, so I had to move on.

The latest guy is called Obi-Wan Kenobi, and although he could bore the hind legs off a trainspotter, he's an absolute miracle worker when it comes to teaching idiots like me how to make broom broom. With this guys help, come March, I could be tearing down a road near you!

[boldie]

stay on the west coast!

[Rod Paradise]

stay on the west east coast!

FYP

GFY

MFI

B&Q

DIY

TYVM

[thetank]

Day 9 - The andrex reflex

I have a theory that during the first few months of a child's life, when they are still very fragile, a father's hand eye co-ordination is temporarily heightened, thus increasing the chance of catching falling babies that may otherwise land on pointy spikes.

Today I fumbled a toilet roll, as can happen to the best of us.

Although it was headed bowlward, an instinctive knee dip and lighting fast flick of the wrist had me wedge it against the seat, and in so doing, keeping it nice and dry.

This has never happened to me before, my only chance of avoiding an ugly fishing incident in the past would occur if the Andrex bounced to the left or the right. Today was different, paternal instincts within me are switching themselves on without my knowledge. It saves me money, it saves the environment, and it saves me getting my fingers covered in piss.

It's all very exciting, although I can't help but wonder if this particular evolutionary advance might have been more practical if it somehow served to reduce my chances of dropping stuff in the first place.


Back to the real world then, and I have not received any e-mails back from the recruitment companies. It looks like I'll have to find a new job the old fashioned way, by getting my finger out and doing it on my own.
Having never been very comfortable with the proposition of selling myself, I dread job hunts. At least there's no pressure of a ticking clock over my shoulders. I can take my time, and hopefully find something half decent.

[Teacake]

stay on the west east coast!

FYP

Luckily he's about as central as it gets.

Great stuff T, keep it up 

[thetank]

Day 10 - Do not disturb

The wife and I usually go to bed around about the same time. She'll be giving Mollypops her final feed while I tinker around downstairs for a bit. By the time I join them, my wee girl has usually just entered the land of nod.

While the child could sleep through a hurricane in a discotheque if needs be, us adults still feel the need to whisper to one another until her slumber is more established.

Whispering, as I'm familiar with it, is a way to convey important information in any sort of environment where too much noise is a bad thing. "Can you please pass me the insulin," would be an example of a legitimate whisper in the cinema.
In a good whisper, the listener should only just hear what is being said, perhaps having to watch the whisperers lips in order to fully understand.

So I was somewhat bemused by the less than essential details being communicated in Coco's fifteen minute whispered monologue last night. What shops she was intending to visit the next day, and the items she might purchase therein.

Pretending to listen is that much harder when, in order to maintain authenticity, you have to make a pretence of really concentrating on both their voice and lip movements. In the end, I gave up on pretending, and had to actually take in what was being said.

This resulted in something even more bizarre than the 15 minute whispered monologue. I was moved to engage the wife in a 20 minute whispered debate on thrifty spending.

[boldie]

Day 10 - Do not disturb

The wife and I usually go to bed around about the same time. She'll be giving Mollypops her final feed while I tinker around downstairs for a bit. By the time I join them, my wee girl has usually just entered the land of nod.

While the child could sleep through a hurricane in a discotheque if needs be, us adults still feel the need to whisper to one another until her slumber is more established.

Whispering, as I'm familiar with it, is a way to convey important information in any sort of environment where too much noise is a bad thing. "Can you please pass me the insulin," would be an example of a legitimate whisper in the cinema.
In a good whisper, the listener should only just hear what is being said, perhaps having to watch the whisperers lips in order to fully understand.

So I was somewhat bemused by the less than essential details being communicated in Coco's fifteen minute whispered monologue last night. What shops she was intending to visit the next day, and the items she might purchase therein.

Pretending to listen is that much harder when, in order to maintain authenticity, you have to make a pretence of really concentrating on both their voice and lip movements. In the end, I gave up on pretending, and had to actually take in what was being said.

This resulted in something even more bizarre than the 15 minute whispered monologue. I was moved to engage the wife in a 20 minute whispered debate on thrifty spending.

 

[thetank]

Day 11 - Ernest Heming's way

This blog is called "fighting with writing" and not "my dull-ass musings on fatherhood" so I suppose it's about time I told you what's going on with regard to pens and pieces of paper.

One of the very first things the course teaches you is a how to keep coming up with creative ideas. I've had problems with this in the past, when I've written articles for blondepoker.com, I found myself completely drying up and not making any new ones for weeks. Ernest Hemingway tells us how to get over this by simply "applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair." A very no nonsense approach, that leaves no room for feeling sorry for yourself and citing writer's block.

Claiming that I have nothing to write about, or that I am waiting for inspiration, are notions in which I am no longer allowed to indulge. I've loads of exercises to try if I'm ever struggling and they all make sense. One is to write a little something rough (such as this blog) as a good way to get the brain warmed up in the morning.

That small notepad I acquired from Woolworths is getting full of random notes. I might have to lift another soon. A familiar site in our house is that of a naked man streaming down the hall, he had a good idea in the bath but forgot to bring a pen.
Coco has threatened to throw the thing in a puddle, as I'll often scribble something down in the middle of a conversation, and not tell her what it is. More often than not, the note is not about her, I'm just a man who can't resist a wind-up.

[thetank]

Day 12 - The Col-gate scandal

After years of nagging and the occasional bleeding gum, I agreed to register with the local dentist last month. I'd previously been putting it off indefinitely. I'm a man you see, and that is how we're meant to behave.

Coco mentioned something about free dental treatment being available to me for six months after having a child. As my purse strings are considerably tighter than my testicles, I decided to bite the bullet and get it sorted.

Thankfully for this self destructive procrastinator, the earliest available appointment was safe and far away in the future. March, a date so distant as to not trouble my sleep even once.

I was called today with some apparent "good news." They'd had a cancellation, and I can come in later this week instead.

Bugger!
I was banking on the world being underwater before March. There's much less chance of the necessary chain of cataclysmic weather events occurring before Thursday.

You never know your luck though, so I'll check the internet's meteorological predictions. I know what my prediction is...



...pain!

[thetank]

I pity the fool who just worked out how to put pictures in his blog.

[boldie]

lol wimpaments

[Dewi_cool]

Da iawn Thomas, mwy

[thetank]

Day 13 - My top five thingymebobs.

Nine weeks into my child farming career, here's the top five gadgets I couldn't live without.


5 - Deaf person's alarm clock

I like to wake up early, but if it were via the BEEEEEP of a regular alarm, that might unsettle Mollypops.
This lives under my pillow, and silently shakes me to a state of instant alertness.


4- Vibrating baby chair.

You might love your daughter unconditionally, but sometimes you need to read the paper and have some soup. Whatever the need, you can pop her into the chair, and she is happy as larry with minimal supervision.


3- The baby carrier

You might look a bit of a ninny walking around the town with a baby on your chest, but the daddy-daughter bonding this device facilitates means that you just don't care. The Baby Bjorn model doesn't look as goofy as some do, and it is well worth the money.


2- The changing table.

Kneeling down on the floor ten times a day isn't my idea of fun and it would be hard to remain jovial while swapping nappies. My daughter might pick up on this and grow to dislike changing time.
No danger of this though, as changing her at the table is a piece of piss. You have all the bits you need handy, in the baskets at the side, and there is absolutely no need to bend.


1- The tummy tub

I was originally against the purchase of this...

"We've already got a baby bath, and 25 quid for something that is essentially just a plastic bucket is absolutely daft."

It may well be just a plastic bucket, but I'd spend the money again for the simple reason that Mollypops absolutely loves it.
We had become used to her screaming down the house whenever she had a bath. We would only put parts of her body in the water at a time, and endeavoured to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible.
In the tub however, the water comes right up to her neck. She enjoys the immersion so much that bath time has become play time. You can't put a price on all those little splashes and smiles.

(I'll put a photo up later today)

[barhell]

Day 13 - My top five thingymebobs.

Nine weeks into my child farming career, here's the top five gadgets I couldn't live without.


5 - Deaf person's alarm clock

I like to wake up early, but if it were via the BEEEEEP of a regular alarm, that might unsettle Mollypops.
This lives under my pillow, and silently shakes me to a state of instant alertness.


4- Vibrating baby chair.

You might love your daughter unconditionally, but sometimes you need to read the paper and have some soup. Whatever the need, you can pop her into the chair, and she is happy as larry with minimal supervision.


3- The baby carrier

You might look a bit of a ninny walking around the town with a baby on your chest, but the daddy-daughter bonding this device facilitates means that you just don't care. The Baby Bjorn model doesn't look as goofy as some do, and it is well worth the money.


2- The changing table.

Kneeling down on the floor ten times a day isn't my idea of fun and it would be hard to remain jovial while swapping nappies. My daughter might pick up on this and grow to dislike changing time.
No danger of this though, as changing her at the table is a piece of piss. You have all the bits you need handy, in the baskets at the side, and there is absolutely no need to bend.


1- The tummy tub

I was originally against the purchase of this...

"We've already got a baby bath, and 25 quid for something that is essentially just a plastic bucket is absolutely daft."

It may well be just a plastic bucket, but I'd spend the money again for the simple reason that Mollypops absolutely loves it.
We had become used to her screaming down the house whenever she had a bath. We would only put parts of her body in the water at a time, and endeavoured to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible.
In the tub however, the water comes right up to her neck. She enjoys the immersion so much that bath time has become play time. You can't put a price on all those little splashes and smiles.

(I'll put a photo up later today)

Absolutely superb idea to use a non noisy alarm clock.

[thetank]

Here's a picture of the tummy tub

Apparently it's not just a bucket, it's a bucket shaped like a womb.