After yesterday's detour to 'Fuel Jamie's Bid For World Domination Town' One Man is returning to normal duty today. Thank you for you patience.
With the house now builder free we can go back to our routine of acting like idiots without the fear of someone seeing us and judging us. This the good news from the past twenty four hours the bad news is the wee man and I have done our bit to ruin Britain's beaches.
Yesterday while taking a wonder along the beach, with Funny Daddy, we battled against hurricane force winds. I tried valiantly to keep child and all child related paraphernalia in the buggy but you only have so many hands. The buggy tried to escape on more than one occasion and I really should have learnt my lesson from this but continued to forget to use the brake. As a gust of wind took the rain cover with it I decided to run after it but as I let go of the pushchair it shot off at some great speed, from another gust, across the grass heading towards the sea wall. Child or rain cover which should I save?
With me spending my time shopping online this tells you all you need to know. The rain cover was last seen sprinting off into the North Sea and even though I care loosely about the environment I'm not going to go diving into the North Sea in January. Shopping for a rain cover though is much cheaper and much less fuss than shopping for a new child. So well done me for choosing the right option.
My self adulation at my parenting kills was short lived. While roughhousing on our return home the wee man ran into me as I was on the floor, smashing his face on my skull. This resulted in a whopper of a black eye which today has turned a very nice shade of blue. He now looks a mixture of tired, undernourished and battle scarred. This isn't a great mixture and if The Chancellor has her way the make-up will be out tonight.
jpr
Thursday, 31 January 2013
Wednesday, 30 January 2013
Vote For Me (Again) Please
Roll up, roll up for another chance to make One Man and a Wee Bairn to most powerful blog in the land. After the wonderful response I got from the Baby Centre competition some time ago, you now have the chance to nominate me and this blog for a very prestigious MAD Blog Award 2013. OOOOOOH I hear you say. Yes they are very prestigious.
Already some of my wonderful mummy friends have nominated me but one nomination is not enough as I have to amass a fair few to become a finalist. If I become a finalist then I get to got to a big gala even where there will be drinking, dancing and singing. What more of an incentive to you want?
So if you feel that you need to massage my ego some more or you actually believe One Man should win blog of the year then go to this website and nominate me. http://www.the-mads.com/awards/. Thank you.
To sweeten the deal there are amazing mystery prizes on offer if you do vote for me. By the way did I tell you how good you are looking today? Is that a new haircut? You look great in that new suit. OK now I'm crawling. My chance of going to the ball is in your hands.
Right, back to normal the normal routine tomorrow when the builders might have finally left my house.
jpr
Already some of my wonderful mummy friends have nominated me but one nomination is not enough as I have to amass a fair few to become a finalist. If I become a finalist then I get to got to a big gala even where there will be drinking, dancing and singing. What more of an incentive to you want?
So if you feel that you need to massage my ego some more or you actually believe One Man should win blog of the year then go to this website and nominate me. http://www.the-mads.com/awards/. Thank you.
To sweeten the deal there are amazing mystery prizes on offer if you do vote for me. By the way did I tell you how good you are looking today? Is that a new haircut? You look great in that new suit. OK now I'm crawling. My chance of going to the ball is in your hands.
Right, back to normal the normal routine tomorrow when the builders might have finally left my house.
jpr
Tuesday, 29 January 2013
The Wee Man Has A New Friend
So we have day 2 of the great building project. Our man who is doing such a fine job keeps pulling me to one side, speaking to me with words I don't quite understand. I nod politely not wanting to appear like some dumb idiot, I even try to pretend I know what he means when he talks about how to properly install a shower. I give him a face that's says "Yeah of course you do it like that, that's how I would have done it if I had had any desire to be a labourer". He's either very polite and thinks I'm a total tit or my GCSE drama skills have outfoxed him.
The wee man has taken quite a shine to our builder friend and when the chance arises he scampers through to see what he's up to. After I wrote yesterday he got his hands on a saw which had been left at child level. He clutched it by the saw blade itself and was about to swing it around when I managed to grab off him in time. He even had the audacity to have a tantrum at his new toy being confiscated. What is good about all this work going on is the wee man can be a little unsure when new people come into his world but is happy enough to play pica boo with his new friend.
To escape the drilling that has been pissing me off more than the wee man we went for a little walk. The wee man scampered about excited to be let off his lead making friends with dogs who weren't as sure about this friend thing as he was. The wee man has a habit off getting a little too excited when faced with dogs, usually scaring them and causing them to run off and hide in the bushes. He is something of a public menace.
Jpr
The wee man has taken quite a shine to our builder friend and when the chance arises he scampers through to see what he's up to. After I wrote yesterday he got his hands on a saw which had been left at child level. He clutched it by the saw blade itself and was about to swing it around when I managed to grab off him in time. He even had the audacity to have a tantrum at his new toy being confiscated. What is good about all this work going on is the wee man can be a little unsure when new people come into his world but is happy enough to play pica boo with his new friend.
To escape the drilling that has been pissing me off more than the wee man we went for a little walk. The wee man scampered about excited to be let off his lead making friends with dogs who weren't as sure about this friend thing as he was. The wee man has a habit off getting a little too excited when faced with dogs, usually scaring them and causing them to run off and hide in the bushes. He is something of a public menace.
Jpr
Monday, 28 January 2013
I Am Rubbish At DIY
I have finally given up the pretense. I am admitting with my hands in the air that I am pretty rubbish at DIY. This may not shock some of you and deep down it certainly doesn't shock me. But hey we're not perfect at everything. With that admission out of the way I can tell you that we have in the house with us today a builder/electrician/handyman/tool owner. He is currently trying to patch up the hole I made some time ago and doing lots of other jobs too including drilling holes in walls.
The wee man, as I had thought, didn't take too well with a strange man in a high viability jacket upon a ladder drilling loudly into my bathroom wall. Curiosity soon turned to terror as our man with a drill bit the size of my head began his work.
The wee man's curiosity returned at the sight of the unguarded tool box in the kitchen, his eyes lighting up with new play things on the floor. The box contained lots of things that looked like great fun for the wee man but to me looked like a box of decapitation and death. Quick as a flash he pounced on the unguarded box but if there's one thing quicker than a curious child it's a parent watching their child doing something dangerous. He gave his tantrumey moan as I carried him away under my arm saying "but son, I can't possibly let you play with hammers and Stanley knives because then you might just chop off your hand or worse stab me". There's no telling the boy.
My acceptance of the inevitable realisation of my lack of skills and finally getting in a professional who actually owns tools may finally get The Chancellor off my back. She has been going on and on and on and on and on and on about the hole I made some time ago, claiming the bathroom should have been sorted well before Christmas. This may be true but I've been a bit busy and I've refused because of a male pride thing to not let any other man do work on the house. Finally the denial has lifted.
jpr
The wee man, as I had thought, didn't take too well with a strange man in a high viability jacket upon a ladder drilling loudly into my bathroom wall. Curiosity soon turned to terror as our man with a drill bit the size of my head began his work.
The wee man's curiosity returned at the sight of the unguarded tool box in the kitchen, his eyes lighting up with new play things on the floor. The box contained lots of things that looked like great fun for the wee man but to me looked like a box of decapitation and death. Quick as a flash he pounced on the unguarded box but if there's one thing quicker than a curious child it's a parent watching their child doing something dangerous. He gave his tantrumey moan as I carried him away under my arm saying "but son, I can't possibly let you play with hammers and Stanley knives because then you might just chop off your hand or worse stab me". There's no telling the boy.
My acceptance of the inevitable realisation of my lack of skills and finally getting in a professional who actually owns tools may finally get The Chancellor off my back. She has been going on and on and on and on and on and on about the hole I made some time ago, claiming the bathroom should have been sorted well before Christmas. This may be true but I've been a bit busy and I've refused because of a male pride thing to not let any other man do work on the house. Finally the denial has lifted.
jpr
Sunday, 27 January 2013
Do I Actually Miss The Wee Man?
Things are very quiet at One Man HQ today except for the relentless tapping of me on my laptop and the low buzz of football commentary in the background. The Wee Man along with his mum and his grandmother have gone out for the day leaving me alone with my thoughts, which is never a good thing. I managed to get out of leaving the house by just not putting on a coat when the time came to leave, hiding in the living room then closing the door behind them as they headed out. Cunning.
What have I achieved with my quiet time? Well I ate a bag of Hoola Hoops, then played some stupid and time wasting football game, then I ate some more Hoola Hoops and finally got down to doing some work in turning this blog into a book while eating Hoola Hoops. I think we can call today an unmitigated success.
My eyes though keep flicking down to the corner of the laptop at the time and merging that with the thought of the wee man charging around throwing my Xbox controller on our hard kitchen floor. I'm running out of time!
I feel like I never quite achieve what I set out to do with my free time but it would help having plans made in the first place. Ten minutes after the family return I always seem to say to myself "Oh that's what I should have done today". By the time I get a day to myself again I've forgotten what I told myself the last time and I just end up sitting around chewing my nails waiting for the madness to start again. My lack of imagination is quite pathetic and I should be never be left on my own again.
What have I achieved with my quiet time? Well I ate a bag of Hoola Hoops, then played some stupid and time wasting football game, then I ate some more Hoola Hoops and finally got down to doing some work in turning this blog into a book while eating Hoola Hoops. I think we can call today an unmitigated success.
My eyes though keep flicking down to the corner of the laptop at the time and merging that with the thought of the wee man charging around throwing my Xbox controller on our hard kitchen floor. I'm running out of time!I feel like I never quite achieve what I set out to do with my free time but it would help having plans made in the first place. Ten minutes after the family return I always seem to say to myself "Oh that's what I should have done today". By the time I get a day to myself again I've forgotten what I told myself the last time and I just end up sitting around chewing my nails waiting for the madness to start again. My lack of imagination is quite pathetic and I should be never be left on my own again.
Saturday, 26 January 2013
Jamie Sassoon
Is it ever acceptable to chase your child around the house with a pair of scissors in your hand? I didn't think so either. These kinds of antis may well scar then for the rest of their life. And of course teach them that running with scissors pointing up is a good thing. How many goblets of bad parenting you can bestow in such a short period of time?
The wee man's hair is long to point of making him look slightly effeminate. He is now sporting a mullet but here in the North East that is not necessarily a bad thing. This is of course the place where Kevin Keegan made them look fashionable. Thanks for that Kevin. So I have been determined to cut his hair but The Chancellor like the mother she is won't let me anywhere near his hair as she thinks I will do a bad job. So I spend my time chasing them around the flat in an effort to get my hands on his hair.
How hard can it be to cut a child's hair? He has such a small head so logic would dictate that any haircut would and should take no time at all. "Have you cut hair before Jamie?" I hear you ask. No I haven't but there is a first time everything. If I can do DIY I can cut hair.
I have given The Chancellor deadlines to book him in for an appointment or the alternative is me with my fairly blunt kitchen scissors and my artistic flair. But for some reason she has this obsession to keep his hair longer. Did she secretly want a daughter or does she just like men who are slightly androgynous. I by the way have cut my long hair so I now no longer look androgynous. Anyway who knows what her problem is but either way she has until tomorrow evening to book him into a hairdressers or I'll be doing it on Monday morning when she's at work.
Pictures will be published of my skills, unless it's really crap then I won't be taking pictures of him for a long long time.
jpr
The wee man's hair is long to point of making him look slightly effeminate. He is now sporting a mullet but here in the North East that is not necessarily a bad thing. This is of course the place where Kevin Keegan made them look fashionable. Thanks for that Kevin. So I have been determined to cut his hair but The Chancellor like the mother she is won't let me anywhere near his hair as she thinks I will do a bad job. So I spend my time chasing them around the flat in an effort to get my hands on his hair.
How hard can it be to cut a child's hair? He has such a small head so logic would dictate that any haircut would and should take no time at all. "Have you cut hair before Jamie?" I hear you ask. No I haven't but there is a first time everything. If I can do DIY I can cut hair.
I have given The Chancellor deadlines to book him in for an appointment or the alternative is me with my fairly blunt kitchen scissors and my artistic flair. But for some reason she has this obsession to keep his hair longer. Did she secretly want a daughter or does she just like men who are slightly androgynous. I by the way have cut my long hair so I now no longer look androgynous. Anyway who knows what her problem is but either way she has until tomorrow evening to book him into a hairdressers or I'll be doing it on Monday morning when she's at work.
Pictures will be published of my skills, unless it's really crap then I won't be taking pictures of him for a long long time.
jpr
Friday, 25 January 2013
Am I A Child Eating Monster?
There is young boy the wee man and I know who used to go to the same baby group as us. He is a nice lad, with really nice parents and he also happens to have the same birthday as the wee man. The only problem with this boy was that every time I looked at him and smiled he would burst into tears and cry uncontrollably for ten minutes, letting out a howl as he did this. This really is no exaggeration as it would take the parents quite a while to calm the poor lad down.
After it happened a few times I started to develop a little neurosis about this. Am I that ugly? Am I that scary? I don't think I come across like some scary monster about to eat the heads off of small children. All the other children I know don't feel the need to tell me what they think of me or run away from me. So this aversion to me was a bit of a shame as I got on well with the boy's mum, dad and nanny. The wee man and the boy also seemed happy to play together.
Today the lad and his mum turned up to our new toddler class, which was great as I finally had someone to talk to that I knew. I spoke easily with the mum trying not to look the little boy directly in the eyes in case he had a full blown meltdown which would leave me scurrying away in embarrassment.
In a stroke of luck (for me) though the lad instantly transferred his crying from me to the male member of the team who runs the group. Now this guy can be a bit full on and is much louder than I am so I don't blame the little guy for crying. The wee man is never quite sure what to make of him either. He stands inquisitively trying to suss him out and wondering why he is clapping and signing in his face. More often than not the wee man will turn and try to cling on tight to my neck. I don't blame him.
Anyway now this young boy seems happy to look at me and doesn't see me as a scary child eating monster anymore. Score one for me, that plastic surgery I had to remove my tentacles seems to have worked at treat.
jpr
After it happened a few times I started to develop a little neurosis about this. Am I that ugly? Am I that scary? I don't think I come across like some scary monster about to eat the heads off of small children. All the other children I know don't feel the need to tell me what they think of me or run away from me. So this aversion to me was a bit of a shame as I got on well with the boy's mum, dad and nanny. The wee man and the boy also seemed happy to play together.
Today the lad and his mum turned up to our new toddler class, which was great as I finally had someone to talk to that I knew. I spoke easily with the mum trying not to look the little boy directly in the eyes in case he had a full blown meltdown which would leave me scurrying away in embarrassment.
In a stroke of luck (for me) though the lad instantly transferred his crying from me to the male member of the team who runs the group. Now this guy can be a bit full on and is much louder than I am so I don't blame the little guy for crying. The wee man is never quite sure what to make of him either. He stands inquisitively trying to suss him out and wondering why he is clapping and signing in his face. More often than not the wee man will turn and try to cling on tight to my neck. I don't blame him.
Anyway now this young boy seems happy to look at me and doesn't see me as a scary child eating monster anymore. Score one for me, that plastic surgery I had to remove my tentacles seems to have worked at treat.
jpr
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