Megaboys | Chez Spud

Dec

4

Christmas card photoshoot…NEVER AGAIN

Next year I’m buying Christmas cards in packets. Or going pagan or something. I am NOT ever ever ever attempting a Christmas Card Photoshoot never ever again. I really thought I’d get a cracking shot this year. I finally kind of know my way around a camera and the boys even have nativity dressing up outfits for the nursery play next week (Diggy isn’t actually in the play but is insistent on being the lesser-known-thumb-sucking-fourth- king-bearing-’attitude’ probably…).

So last weekend I brandished some Smarties and attempted to bribe those megaboys in to their outfits and in to the garden for a photoshoot. Diggy was compliant, Bertie threw a monstrous tantrum. Attempt one? Fail.

I tried again today. Both were willing, hoorah, but SHEESH it was like herding cats. They just wouldn’t stay still, look at the camera etc etc. So I got the photo above (very ‘star of wonder’ I thought….moody, but hardly a two boys first equal shot). Then this, lovely but erm only one boy…

Then there was this, so sweet but Bertie’s got mischief on his mind…and it’s a bit out of focus too…

Oh, wait, yes Bertie definitely has mischief on his mind…he seems to be strangling his brother here…still, at least it’s in focus…

Diggy, zoned out post strangulation…

Then it got silly…

This is the best I got. Two boys? Check. Two boys looking at the camera? Check. Vaguely in focus? Check. No strangulation going on? Check. Spud out of patience anyway let’s call it a wrap? Check. Break open the Smarties mummy? You betcha.

Bah humbug.

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Nov

15

Five

Posted under People I love

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Unlocks Chez Spud, checks all is well, nothing has been taken, all Secrets safe and sound…? Good, well then let’s continue…

Chez Spud is open for business again. Thank you to everyone who emailed and/or commented, you’re all so thoughtful and it meant such a lot to me. My father-in-law’s funeral is over now and it was wonderful and awful in equal measure. It was a true reflection of the man he was, and how well he was loved by family, friends and colleagues. But now the awful business of grieving will truly swing in to action, and there are dark days ahead for sure. I hadn’t prepared myself for Bertie (4) being so desperately upset, sobbing in fact, in the funeral. I knew he’d ask questions, and be curious but the inconsolable tears were a shock to me. Its the first time, as a parent, that I’ve been able to do nothing to alleviate his pain and suffering and it was like a slap around the face. “I didn’t want him to die, I want him to be alive again” he howled. What to say, other than, “I do too, and I wish I could make it happen but I can’t”.

Just to throw an additional spanner in the works Bertie has been very ill for the last few days, starting on the day of the funeral…so we’ve juggled a very poorly child, a very bouncy happy child, a long journey, 2 absolutely dreadful, sleepness nights (one in a hotel), the funeral and vomiting. Lovely.

Would someone please, please, PLEASE give us a fecking break now? Thanks.

So, FIVE! As well as the funeral on Friday (plus assorted ill/bouncy children) it was me and MrSpud’s 5th wedding anniversary. What better way to celebrate one’s anniversary than burying one’s father-in-law….cry, cry, cry. It’s wasn’t the day for joy, but I did take a moment to take stock, give thanks and marvel at how five short years can meld two families in to one, and produce the next generation, in what feels like the blink of an eye.

Pictured above: MrSpud lying on the bed in the hotel after his father’s funeral reading to our boys, hoping we might get some sleep (wrong!). And no doubt mindful of the years his lovely Dad read to him as he went to bed and, like all of us, wishing it all could be different.

Five years of marriage…two Old Spuds…two Baby Spuds…one love now and forever etc etc xxx

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Aug

10

A road to nowhere

Posted under People I love, Witterings

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We are on the way back home from what felt like a 5 minute visit to my father and his wife. 8 hours to get there, 5 minute visit, 3 hours of the journey home done and at least 2 more to go if we are very lucky.

The numbers aren’t stacking up here…

Ideal number of hours for a roadtrip with megaboys…1
Actual hours spent on roadtrip thus far…11
Tantrums thrown by megaboys…0
Tantrums thrown by me…ummmmmm
Number of steam trains seen…1
Number of model trains ridden on…1
Age of person who enjoyed model train the most…62
Number of balloons seen at misleadingly named Balloon Fiesta…1
Number of balloons which actually left the ground during Fiesta…0
Number of hours sat waiting on a hill to see the balloons make their evening ascent…1
Number of balloons which made their ascent while we were sitting on the hill…0
Minutes after we got back in the car after which the balloons made their ascent…3
Number of swear words muttered…all the words in the languages of the world
Number of hours late to bed for the megaboys…2 for 2 nights running
Length of nap for megaboys on return journey…2.5 hours
Number of grumpy boys on being woken from nap…2 (see photo)
Tears cried by Bertie at having to say goodbye to Grandad and T…does the phrase ‘cry me a river’ mean anything to you?
Regrets at not living nearer to family…too many to mention
Joy at iPhone miraculously mending itself…unbounded

Are we nearly there yet?

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Jul

27

Ode to Megaboy 2

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‘Megaboys’…that’s what MrSpud calls our children, his megaboys or his ‘men’. I think they must actually think they are a new, higher order of boys though as they now call themselves Megaboys (“Daddy! The Megaboys are in the bath!”). Must stop this before they start school for fear of any Lord of the Flies type thoughts entering their pretty little blonde heads.

So yesterday we carted the Megaboys off to a local horse show because that’s just the kind of fun parents that we were. There were horses, as you might expect at a horse show…

And, rather randomly but wonderful anyway, owls…

and then all the usual paraphernalia of such events; beer tents, live music, cake stalls, raffles, tombolas…all the trappings of an English fete in fact including a couple of rides and activities for small children. Both boys were pretty keen on a vast, and improbably pink, inflatable slide which I was very unsure about for Diggy as he’s only two. But I stood and watched my baby climb climb climb all the way to the top, slowly, carefully and with great determination. There was no WAY he was going to stand round and watch his big brother have all the fun…

…and then, as I saw his beaming smile as he reached the top, I felt them…those little tears of pride starting to prick. I couldn’t help myself, I didn’t dare look at MrSpud who blubs like a girl at the best of times. I was suddenly so aware of how grown up he is and how quickly he’s turned from a yelling newborn bundle of fury in to the brave little chap I was watching climb the mountain and hurl himself down, shrieking with sheer joy.

I haven’t had the easiest of relationships with Diggy. I found the first year of having two children very tough and I didn’t cope as well I might. Diggy was a very clingy baby and needed holding constantly, day and night. Sleep deprivation was high, and just getting through the day with the Klingon and a toddler was tough. I didn’t really ‘enjoy’ Diggy for a long time and that’s a real sadness to me; I can’t get those early weeks and months back, they are lost to me now. The memories are mostly bad ones; struggling through it and feeling so resentful that Bertie’s babyhood had been cut short by the unexpected arrival of Diggy…and how little time I had for my ‘big boy’ as I always had the baby in my arms. Or rather on my tummy or back as the Klingon basically lived in a sling for the best part of the first year of his life…

He’s still pretty high octane, a hurracaine really…but he lives life at 150% and is so up for everything that you have to forgive his maddening, willful streak. He is very affectionate and charms everyone we meet with his breezy nature and those white blonde curls. I’m hopelessly addicted to his sweet kisses and cuddles, and the feel of those soft chubby cheeks. It’s a wonderful feeling, this overwhelming, dizzy making feeling of being ‘in love’ with your child…I can’t get enough of it. It’s been a long time coming.