The Soft Play Circle of Trust

When you enter a soft play establishment, do you enter the 'soft play circle of trust'? In what other situation would you willingly leave your bag and its contents (which always contains something importantly however well you pack) unattended and completely out of sight? Today I took E to soft play for the first time solo. We go regularly with friends and bag minders, but never just me, her and the bag. We took off our shoes and off we went. And obviously she wanted to play everywhere we couldn't see our bag, and go and everything that was, by very nature, bag unfriendly.


Is there an unspoken rule that irrespective of your criminal tendencies, you do not thieve in the soft play area? Or do we trust that as a group of parents in a similar situation, we just wouldn't do it to one another?


I didn't give a thought to my bag for 45 minutes while I got friction burn on my heels going on the big bumpy slide.


What a trusting character I must be. A fully fledged member of the Soft Play Circle of Trust, that I may have just founded myself.

Wordless Wednesday

Silent Sunday

Brief letters

Dear Jasper-dog,

Please stop insisting on eating E's crayons. Crayola aren't cheap and I'm positive that they're not good for you innards.

***

Dear E,

Why must you ALWAYS get poo on the trousers I love you in most? Do you hate them? Is this your first attempts at rebelling against the clothes I choose for you?

***

Dear Facebook,

Stop trying to trick us with your updates and hashtags. I will not have my security compromised.

***

Dear new parents, particularly ones known to me,

Please stop making such beautiful babies. They're making me broody and my ovaries ache. 

***

Dear bank account,

Please stop hiding my money. I worked hard for that.

***

Dear husband,

Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for backing me up. Thank you for being so kind, and caring and helpful. Thank you for being everything a husband and a father should be. 

***

Dear E,

Thank you for another perfect Friday. You were so well behaved and so good with Baby Lyra. You had us in stitches over lunch.

I'm sorry I wasn't watching you when I fell off the bench and split your lip. Well done for being such a trooper.

***

Dear weather,

Make your mind up. The washing is on the line and I really would prefer it dry, not sodden. I'd like to go out in my summer wardrobe without wellingtons and raincoats. If you must rain, just rain from offset and we'll call today a write-off.

***

Dear Old Armchair,

Please fit in the car. I really don't fancy driving you to another county on top of the Fiat Panda. I'm not sure it's all that safe, but even if it is, I will feel a muppet driving such a huge chair on top of such a tiny car.

***

Weekend Round Up

We've had an incredible weekend as a family of three. The first weekend in I cannot remember how long since it was just me, him and her. We pottered around at home yesterday, did a few bits in town, all had our hair cut, played in the garden, rearranged the sitting room with the new furniture and WAIT FOR IT!! Hung out on the new sofa, just the two of us, with a mug of tea in the afternoon and a couple of beers in the evening. Divine. I fell in love with my husband all over again yesterday. Things have been so busy and stressful and I've just not had the opportunity to enjoy him and his company. Yesterday I totally remembered why I fell in love with him in the first place.

We went to the farm today for Father's Day, the first time D has been with E and they both had a great time feeding the animals and playing together. I found myself welling up as they went off on a barrel ride (like a train, but old barrels converted into little seats pulled by a tractor) a little overwhelmed by how lucky I am, how much I love them, how we don't do this stuff as a threesome together enough... 

Note to self: Stop booking so much stuff into the diary.

We got home to discover that E has chicken pox. Actually, all weekend the conversation has been like this:

H: Do you think this is pox?

D: No, don't be stupid it's eczema! 

H: Right o.

H 1 - 0 D.

Happy Father's Day! 

Silent Sunday

Father's Day Guest Post

I write about serious stuff. Soppy stuff. Sentimental stuff. I enjoy reading this stuff too. But I also love reading the more light hearted stuff that my fellow bloggers write, especially when it comes to parenting. A few weeks ago, I stumbled across Dad Man Talking's blog and literally wept with laughter. I regularly check in on his posts now and they never fail to entertain. 

I'm absolutely chuffed to be able to host him over here today with a Father's day special, which had me chuckling over my coffee this morning...

*****

I have been kindly asked to do a guest blog for the lovely Thursday's Child on Father's Day. I figured that most of her readers will be mums, so I thought it was only right that I should give you all a few essential hints about what Dads actually want on this special day. 

Firstly - and this is very important - we do not want breakfast in bed made by small inept chefs. The perfect start to the day is not coffee made with cold water and four heaped spoonfuls of Gold Blend rounded off with a foosty bap from the back of the breadbin smeared with something that might or might not be marmite. When we smile and say "This is the best breakfast I've ever had," I'll give you a hint. We are lying.

Honestly, a nice slice of toast will do. 

Next, Father's Day gifts. No matter what they have told you, we do not want compilation CDs with stupid dad names like "Daddy Cool" or "Dad Gets his Funk On" or "Music For Dads to Listen to on the Car Stereo as They Sob Gently in the Pub Car Park Thinking of their Lost Youth". 

I'm being serious. We don't want that. We know what music we like. We've spent decades building up out CD collections - they are extensions of our very selves. And we do not need anyone else giving us crap compilations that will contaminate it. The CDs will end up on charity shop shelves faster than a dead man's suit. 

Nor do we want golf equipment. We are dads now and we will never, ever find the time to golf again. Not until we are retired and our bodies so ravaged by time and gardening that we will barely be able to lift a club. That packet of tees the kids bought us only serves to remind us of our childless friends striding down fairways in the evening sunshine. 

What we really want of course is a shed of our own. Just a small shed where we can retreat to away from the kids. That's what we really want for Father's Day - somewhere we can get away from them. A little space with a radio and some woodworking tools and maybe a bottle or two of strong beer. 

Happy Father's Day!

You can find my regular blog at www.dadmantalking.com or follow me on twitter @dad_man_talking 

Felt odd posting without a picture.
Here's E and D enjoying a silly moment recently!