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Life

Can I do anything dangerous?

I’m going to be doing a parachute jump!

There are fewer phrases I am likely to say than this, with possibly the exception to “I’m going to space”. I’ve been banned from doing cool, I mean stupidly dangerous, stuff in my life because death.

There is every chance that if I do something life limiting or threatening than my major concern will not be broken bones but the disapproval of my family. I have a ban on anything that involves falling.

So to try anything extraordinary I need to be surrounded by strangers.

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Life

Playing by myself

I’m not a good loser, it is why I don’t play multiplayer games all that often and don’t own a Scrabble board. The thought of not winning can make me a bit crabby and not a fun person to play with. I completely understand the greed of the financial system as I like to be the bank in Monopoly and take commission every time some one passes go, plus a finders fee for every land sale.

So as well as being a bad loser I’m obviously not a great winner either. If the aim of a game is to emerge victorious then what honour is there in coming second. Of course there is more honour in coming second honestly than first by cheating, the key is to not get caught. Nobody remembers who came second anyway, but they always remembers those who won and were disgraced.

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Life

Routines with children

The evening routine for our kids seems to be getting longer. As they have got older we are having to introduce new facets to going to sleep to get them to co-operate, and it is starting to reach the breaking point.

Initially the routine was simple:

Feed them dinner, bathe them, dress them, put them down to sleep.

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Life

Rock Band skills

I am, was, maybe still am, a master of the green, red, yellow, blue and orange. I could play almost any song on expert as my fingers flicked across the clinking buttons of my ersatz Gibson Duo Jet. I used to be able to rock out like all the great fake guitarists; I was the British Kill3rzQu33nz or xxx2tasteexxx.

Then I realised that despite my ability nobody really cared and in fact I would get more derision than admiration from my fingering ability. Plus it took up too much time, cost far too much and other interests came along to distract me.

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Life

Was a message from the heart

Children are both disgusting and awesome, and so are dads. When you mix dads and toddlers you increase the awesome as well as increasing the disgust. It is a potent and dangerous cocktail, and one that I am abusing to the max.

While A-Rex lies there constantly sharting, Feliciraptor is learning all the skills needed for a starring role in an Adam Sandler film. Much to the chagrin of Mommy-G and assorted relatives one of my daughter’s favourite phrases is now:

It’s just a fart.

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Life

The Snowpocalypse is upo…it’s gone

We’ve officially had our first failed Snowpocalypse of the year, the whole of the UK was warned about the impeding doom from some cold water in the sky, and it sends everyone into a tizzy. We start to panic at the mere mention of a flutter, and start to prepare our survival bunkers.

One flake is enough to send the shivers through a Brit, murmurs and rumours of “is there enough food” spread and settle more heavily than the frozen precipitation. We have had some light snow, and it is the end of civilisation. Needless to say the country’s reaction is the same as it is every year.

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Life

Dealing with the British weather

It’s hard work in the morning, it’s dark and cold outside but inside it’s dark and warm. This does not make it easy to get up and out from under the duvet, so it becomes harder and tougher to wake up in the morning. It’s not just me that is affected either.

The Feliciraptor is also struggling with the lack of sunlight in the morning. I will go in to wake her up and even though she is seven she acts like a teenager and just rolls over. Rolls over in that “go away I am refusing to get up” way, and accompanies it with cries of “back to bed” when I pick her out of her bed.

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Life

A life of bad penmanship.

The holiday imposed exile from work has ended, and I need to get myself back wanting a day behind a computer. Over the past fortnight I’ve got out of the habit in many ways, from getting dressed in the morning to having to click a mouse all day long.

One aspect of work that I have not done while at home is to pick up a pen. I’ve had no need of a biro to jot a note nor a fountain pen to sign my name. This is just as well as my handwritten word is worse than my typed.

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Life

Wanting more parenting time

I am spending a long time on the stairs, not going up or down but trying to make an angry little man stay on one step. Looking at pictures of him from years past it is scary just how much he has come along from the lump of DNA to a strong-minded 4 year old.

It is in those moments where you are dealing with a screaming child that you realise every moment is just hurtling by. It does not seem all that long ago that we were fighting the same battle with the Feliciraptor.

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Life

How New Year’s used to be

I vaguely remember the dawn of the new millennium, I’m going to claim it was due to a heavy cold but being twenty at the time my memory degradation was more self-inflicted. I don’t remember going out for New Year’s Eve since then, and not because of alcohol.

I think that was the last occasion I revelled in the changing of the calendar, not that I really went party crazy before then. Instead of getting pickled I prefer to watch the fireworks and have a cheap glass of whiskey, and that is just what I will do tonight (without the gunpowder).