Now We Are Five…

Tags

angry, animals, Cats, Family, funny, Humor, Relationships, stay-at-home Dad

So we said that we would get a cat when we moved to France. It all seemed so abstract when we said it, even the idea of actually moving to this lovely country seemed like a dim and distant dream. But here we are. And now so is he.

 

His name’s Jesse, he’s a black cat. Just a generic one, nothing fancy, thought it best if we start out with a standard model, before looking at something else in ten years time (that’s how long they live, right?).  I wasn’t all that bothered to be honest, I’m more of a dog person. But then I was constantly beaten about the head with this promise we’d made to the kids.

 

That plus my son already has the name picked out.

 

As luck (depending on your viewpoint on cats) would have it a colleague of my partner had just found a stray kitten, abandoned and alone. What a heartbreaking story. My partner approached me and, using her largest eyes, convinced me to take it on. After all, we had promised the kids.

 

He settled in well on the Sunday we brought him home, he was already trained to do ‘his business’ where he should so that was one box ticked. Then the next day my partner went to work, and it was just me, the kids and a cat. Approximately two-hours after she’d left I sent her the following text:

 

START ASKING YOUR COLLEAGUES IF THEY WANT A CAT. THAT CAT HAS TO GO. WE DIDN’T THINK THIS THROUGH. IT’S TOO MUCH. IF I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS FOR THE NEXT SEVEN WEEKS I’LL GO MAD.

 

Oh yeah, did I mention that this is the start of the 8-week Summer holidays, here in France? Well it is.

 

So after that frantic text I sent both kids to their rooms in a bid to de-stress. It may not sound like much, but after being used to coping with two kids, settling into that groove and knowing how to run things smoothly, you introduce an 8 pound (I’m guessing, I haven’t weighed him) ball of fur, claws and teeth into the mix and things go to hell.

 

I came down into the living-room, full of plans as to who we could give him to, who would need a cat…anything to get him out of the house as quickly as possibly. I sat on the couch and who came up to me, purring like the world’s smallest lawnmower? Of course it was Jesse.

 

He stayed like that for ten minutes, purring away, until he fell asleep. I think it was right then that I decided he was part of the family. I quickly sent a text to my partner, in a bid to erase the earlier one, knowing full well that she would never forget it and bring it up, again, and again, and again….

 

He’s alright. I like him. He doesn’t half sleep in some funny positions too, which is amusing..

 

But on the other hand, he’s curious about everything, which can mean it’s difficult to get any work done…

Computer restart due to cat jumping on all keys, in case you were wondering.

 

So yes, our relationship got off to a rocky start, but now we seem to be firm friends. You know, as long as I feed him, water him, clean up his poo and give him lots of cuddles.

 

I’ve got a third child haven’t I?

 

Oh and for the record? I still want a dog.

The French School Holidays Start With A Good News/Bad News Scenario…

Tags

Family, France, French, fun, Humor, school, stay-at-home Dad

The bad news? It’s raining cats and dogs…

 

The good news? The pool’s filling up nicely!

 

What a start to the 8-week ‘summer’ holidays, eh? Fingers crossed that the weather picks up or, speaking just for myself, I’ll be a dribbling wreck in two-month’s time!

Happy holidays everyone!

Why Zelda Will Always Be A Link To The Past For My Son And I…

Tags

children, entertainment, Family, games, Gaming, Learning, Nintendo, Relationships, technology

 

December 2011, I’m flicking my WiiMote around in order to make my onscreen character – Link – defeat Ganon. The game I’m playing is Skyward Sword the swansong for the Wii console, and a fitting game for me to play to completion. The game concerns Link’s ongoing efforts to save the land of Hyrule from the main bad-guy, the aforementioned Ganon.

 

My almost-one-year-old son has been avidly watching me play it, which is fine as it’s a fairly cartoony, non-violent game (well, there are monsters to kill, but they aren’t gruesome kills, and there’s no blood). His big eyes follow my every move and, when I nip for a cup of tea, or to the toilet, I often return to find him waving the WiiMote at the screen. It’s a great moment when I finally defeat Ganon and give my son a cuddle, knowing I’ll never forget this moment.

 

Jump forward to 2017, my son is now 6-and-a-half and has his own gaming system, the Wii’s successor, the Nintendo WiiU. I say it’s his, but I bought it for myself, so he’s effectively stolen it from me, in that way that kids do. I don’t mind though, because I’ve bought myself a Nintendo Switch (which he will inevitably steal from me one day down the line). The one thing these two systems have in common? Zelda: Breath Of The Wild.

 

In a move that apes Nintendo’s previous one, this game is the swansong for the WiiU, but also a launch title for the Switch. It’s also an incredibly bonding experience for me and my son. He’s now of an age where he can play these games and understand most – if not all – of the game mechanics. Some of it is lost on him – the reams and reams of text detailing the various quests clearly go over his head. But that’s where daddy comes in.

 

As I am playing the game at the same time as he is – and am further ahead too – I’m always on hand to offer him guidance when he gets stuck. He talks about it nonstop, from the moment he wakes up, till the moment he goes to bed. I personally have no problem whatsoever with this, but it can wear on his mother’s nerves, as he is effectively speaking a different language to her when he talks about the game.

 

It’s incredible how far he’s come since those days back in 2011, when he was merely an observer. Indeed he’s even teaching me a few tricks; it’s like having a mini co-pilot. These games aren’t released very often, so I’m savouring it, trying to make it last. I can see he wants to rush through though, but thankfully his lack of grasping the finer details means that I can slow the pace down.

 

His time on the game is monitored (I fully believe that he would play it from sun-up to sun-down if he could) and it’s taken away if he misbehaves. I’m a parent who believes that gaming, in reasonable doses, is not only a positive thing for kids but beneficial too. Gaming is much more interactive than just watching a film, or a TV series. It also enhances hand-eye coordination and improves fine-motor skills.

 

I love the discussions we have, the thousand-and-one questions he hurls at me every day, the many, many drawings he does, of the many, many characters in the game. He’s even created pictorial books – yes, books! – detailing the adventures he’s undertaken in the game. When he himself runs out of steam, or finds a certain character a bit too difficult to draw, then he calls on me to aid him (I’m OK at tracing but have no real natural talent, my son does though, he has a certain style that I think is fantastic).

 

It’s a fantastic thing to see, his big eyes shining with awe as he talks about his latest run-in with one of the game’s baddies. The many fist-bumps we share with each other when one, or the other, solves a riddle, or defeats a particularly troublesome baddie. He’s got a lot of patience too, for a six-year-old, I’ve yet to see him get angry. Whenever he gets defeated – even if it’s for the 20th time – he simply dusts himself off (metaphorically speaking) and gets stuck right back in.

 

It won’t be long though before we meet Ganon, and defeat him, bringing this fantastic game to an end. This time however we won’t only do it together, but also together: he on his system and me on mine.

 

Then it will just be a case of waiting another 5 years or so for the next instalment…then I’m fairly sure he will be the master, and I the apprentice…

OCD Much Darling?

Tags

children, Family, France, French, funny, Humor, kids, stay-at-home Dad

 

We are just about to set off out for a picnic, an impromptu plan suggested by yours truly, on what is a gloriously sunny day. One of the added benefits of living where we do in France, is that we are a stone’s throw away from some truly lovely parks, and a short five-minute drive from my partner’s work; meaning we can pick her up on the way.

 

Everything’s ready to go, sandwiches are made and packed; drinks are ready; desserts are also in the bag for the kids (not for myself and my partner though as I  think – incorrectly as the black looks I later receive attest – we don’t need them).

 

Yes everything’s ready to go, the kids don’t even need to go to the toilet – I know this as I have asked them the requisite 58 times. Only ask 57 times and you are treading on thin ice*.

 

So, I think to myself, as I don my footwear, if everything’s ready to go why is my daughter crying?

 

My son is running around her in a circle, so I assume this is what’s making her cry. I tell him to stop, but she keeps crying and makes a grab for his shoes. Has he stolen something from her and hidden it in his shoes?

 

You might laugh at that, but these two would give airport-security a run for their money when it comes to finding new and interesting places to hide things. I know what that implies, and I stand by it. You DO NOT want to know where I’ve found marbles…and then promptly thrown said marble away.

 

I had to, it was a health and safety issue.

 

Anyway, back to my teary-eyed daughter and I finally, somewhat disbelievingly, discover what she’s crying about. One of the velcro grips on my son’s shoes is not lined up correctly.

 

Just re-read that sentence to yourself.

 

They aren’t her shoes, they are someones else’s. They are on the correct feet, but one, ONE of the velcro straps is slightly, SLIGHTLY ‘askew’.

 

She often mothers him, I’ve mentioned this in the past, so that’s not much of a surprise. This however, is a new level of fastidiousness.

 

She loves everything in her life to be ‘just so’, her hair has to be a certain way, the clothes have to match up, things in her room have to be lined up correctly. I tidied the books on her floor up the other week while I was mopping, as they seemed to be messy, this led to a three-hour interrogation on why I had done it, and why I shouldn’t do it again.

 

Did I mention she’s only three?

 

I tentatively reach over to my son’s shoe and correctly line-up the velcro grip. He couldn’t care less; if I took them off and replaced them with odd shoes – odd girl’s shoes – he’d quite happily carry on regardless. I think I could offer him hollowed-out racoons and he’s shove them on each foot. He’s a free spirit.

 

The effect on my daughter, however, is immediate and obvious. The tears stop rolling down her face, as if someone’s turned off a tap, her attitude changes completely and we head out the door.

 

She’s three.

 

Three.

 

What is going to happen at puberty????

 

 

 

*As it turns out 58 times IS NOT the charm. Not only did my son need a wee at the park he also had to go ‘number two’, which I, in a very civic-minded-manner, had to scoop up and carry. I used baby-wipes and held it like the world’s smelliest, warmest bomb. I do not wish to repeat that experience.

The Results From Tonight’s Mario Kart 8 Deluxe Race….

Tags

children, Computer games, entertainment, Family, fun, funny, games, Gaming, Humor, Nintendo, Parenting

I invested in a Nintendo Switch at launch – yes I actually managed to get one! – as the only way I can play games these days is in a portable form. This is mainly due to the TV being used for family viewing – shows, films etc. Playing games has to fit around my other duties – and never the other way around.

 

It was supposed to just be my domain – mine alone. However my children soon persuaded me into letting them have a go. One thing that I love about Nintendo is that, by and large, their games are wholesome, I don’t have to worry about my children seeing or hearing anything they shouldn’t. This even extends to their online gaming, players are not allowed to speak to each other, just select from a set of pleasant phrases.

 

My children’s choice for gaming tonight? Mario Kart 8 Deluxe. I must admit to initially dismissing this as a lazy port from the WiiU, Nintendo’s ‘failed’ system (though I’d argue against that, we have one in the house and my son loves it). However I have grown to love it over the last week or so, a love that quickly spread to my kids.

 

How did they get on? Well see for yourselves as I give a brief description of their playing styles:

 

 

My Son

(shooting anything and everything as often as possible)

‘Shoot it! Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it! It’s coming at me! I’m getting the sea!!! Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it! Look at that guy!!! Daddy Look at that guy!!! Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it! I’m winning Daddy!!! Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!Shoot it!’

This goes on throughout the match, he does not close his mouth at all – except for a ten minute break where his tooth falls out (due to natural causes I might add, it’s been wobbling for a while).

My Daughter

(reverses slowly in a circle, holding one solitary banana skin)

”

Stays absolutely silent throughout and, I think, the other players take pity on her, as she still has four of her five balloons left at the end of the battle.

RESULT: TIE

We had a great time playing it together, it’s a top system and I can see it becoming more integrated into family life. Not just now though, the Switch is a somewhat ‘fragile’ system and so not one that can be left alone with a very active 3 and 6 year-old. For now it will just be the odd supervised bit of fun…and the rest of the time? It will be mine..(does best Bowser impersonation) ALL MINE! BWA HA HA!!