Dad can we go fishing ?

I play golf because the wife does. I'm not good at it and it certainly has increased my blood pressure a number of times. But something I do love is  fishing.

I really love it.

Before the minions came along we both used to fish all the time, driving into all sorts of places and getting up at stupid hours chasing fish around. Mostly me setting up and her catching the fish.

However, as you are aware fishing is about patience. It's often long waits - punctuated by short bursts of activity and I can assure its nothing like those bloody fishing shows that make it look like all they are doing is catching and not fishing !

Anyway along came the kids and fishing changed quite a bit. It became more interesting and they will test you.

We have had many memorable trips out in boats and off the shores of this countries great lakes and oceans. The eldest just seemed to have this knack of catching the fish I couldn't get anywhere near.

I remember taking them out on a little boat chasing Flathead in the bay. He selected the stupidest looking purple plastic lure I had in the tackle box and flicked it out. I turned away and began to make the beloved a coffee.
He shouts out "Hey I got one !" sure enough, in 1.7 seconds on a piece of purple plastic he caught a fish.

Very demoralizing for me.

Just as this is demoralizing for all of us.

The eldest seemed just to like it for awhile but as he caught more fish it seemed like he had decided in his mind that he had achieved what was required and that he was done with it.

And just like that he stopped.

Not the junior son, oh no he embraced it. I mean he really embraced it.

Every where we would go we would take our rods and tackle and find a spot and get fishing. The problem with this is he started to realize that you get more fishing done the earlier you get up.

Can you see where this is going ?

[quiet footsteps] "Dad ?" [pause] "Dad, are you up?" [pause] "Dad, is it time for fishing yet ?"

So off we trot to fish and shortly after leaving the house, the questions start.

"What kind of fish will we catch?"    " How long can we go for ?"           "Whats the biggest fish you ever caught ?"

Once we set ourselves up, the next trick is to get him to not constantly wind the bait back in every 10 seconds. If you are fishing on a lovely sandy beach then that's fine but  with most fish living in among snags well.....lets just say we take plenty of tackle.

The next challenge is to get him to not keep moving the rod around while I'm baiting the hook, so the hook is not dragged firmly into your fingers. I am quite adept at removing hooks now.

More questions follow "Why aren't we catching anything?       "Can we play in the water ?"

"Can I throw in more berley ?"

And even with all this activity, we still catch fish and we still have so much fun. I look back fondly on the the fun we've had and look forward to all the fun we're going to have.


I just wish I could catch something......

Being a new Dad - the first years

I noticed that all of my posts thus far are about my semi-grown up kids and not so much about what it's like when they are first born / younger, which for a lot of you is probably going to be helpful information ( if you want to avoid the feeling of "what the hell am supposed to be doing" that I felt )

So I thought I'd reflect on some of what I went through ( over a couple of posts) and hope it helps. After all we look at Brittany Spears and marvel that if she can raise a kid whilst being completely nuts there's probably hope for us all.

I'm not going to bother with the birth because it seems everyone has a story to share and really there's not much you can do but be there, hold hands and marvel that later you can tell your wife that you saw the inside of her during the surgery to remove a stuck kid.

Its certainly nothing like the Lion King with everyone showing up to marvel the newborn with music and song. What actually happened was the doctor handed me the kid with his leg bent the other way and his foot facing the inside of his leg.

The doctored chuckled and said "that's how he was in the womb, look... " and proceeded to refold him like an accordian and then unfold him.

The next 20 mins were completely surreal as I was just standing there holding my son with absolutely no idea what to do so I did what  I always do when I'm stuck - I started to just talk to him. It's probably the only time he has ever listened completely.

Anyway eventually they let us take the kid home and I decided to go back to work straight after because there were too many women in the house and I felt so useless. I think it worked well as they eventually left and we could get down to the serious business of parenting.

Because it was winter we assumed that the house had to be warm so we heated it up. Oh boy, did we heat it up. Every heater was turned on.
The first heating bill was more than my salary as we kept the house so hot for the kid to avoid any issues. From then on we used blankets and clothes.

So time began to pass and I must of demonstrated some responsibility because I was told that I would be left on my own to manage the kid whilst a dinner was attended.
As you know she has always been organised so when I was finally left alone with him - there was a list.

All the things I had to do were laid out and the foods to feed him were in individual containers. So it's simple right ?

I put him for the first feed in the high chair and opened the container. Kiwi fruit , too easy.

I get the spoon put some fruit on and hand it to him. I turn around to do something else and then turn back to the kid

The spoon is clean.

Sweet. All good.

So I repeat.

5 minutes later and the bowl is empty. I am on fire here. All I need to do is wipe the excess fruit off his face now.

I felt a drop on my shoulder. I wipe at it and see that it's fruit. I look up.

Who new kiwifruit could get on the roof ? Who knew how hard it is to clean fruit off the roof ?

I'll leave you with one last thought.

Kids will learn routines and you will change.

The eldest was about two and quietly playing on the floor whilst we were heatedly discussing our finances. After a while we both looked around the room and we realized Chris was no longer with us in the room.

We started frantically looking around and found him standing by himself in the dark in his bed room waiting to be put to bed. He knew when to go to bed and we had completely missed it.

Both of us hung our heads in shame and we realized from that point on it was no longer just about us.

It was about our family.

So don't worry and definitely don't panic because after all you're not Brittany Spears-  you're a Dad !

Face it Dad, you are not a plumber....

I had an physical altercation with the dishwasher. I know it was wrong  but it was giving me the irits. For the 900th time it had just refused to start and was sounding an annoying alarm complete with a "not listed" in the manual error code.

So now not only did the dishwasher not work but it also now had a series of dint's across the front. These small fist and knee sized marks had caused much heated discussion and angst in the house, so it was decided that a new unit was required.

Being the handyman that I am I confidently declared that not only could I negotiate for the new dishwasher, but that I would save the $95 and install it sans plumber.

After all how hard could it be. I just take out the old unit and slide the new unit in after connecting the hose and the water outlets.  They're all the same after all

Right ?

So a new dishwasher was procured and brought home. (I am not paying $50 for delivery when I can do that myself as well)

An apprentice was selected ( Mr 11) and the cupboard under the sink was cleared so pipes and drain hoses could be disconnected and then the new hoses reconnected. I am constantly amazed at how many vases we own and they all seem to live under the sink ? What are they for ? I certainly don't buy flowers !

1st Problem - the hose could not be disconnected as the spanner was too small. So off to Bunnings we go and these were purchased :

(Now try and show me a tap I can't disconnect !)

So I took out the old unit and left it in the yard appropriately disposed of it and the apprentice and I carefully appraised the situation (opened a beer )

2nd Problem - The new dishwasher has a water  filter/pressure modulator on the end

 ( the big square thingy)

And it doesn't fit in the current hole from the previous dishwasher hose.

A drill and a larger hole is required. So a series of holes around a measured area were drilled and a hammer was employed. The apprentice gets into the cupobaord to ensure that perfection is acheived.

3rd Problem - There is two layers of chipboard where the hole needs to be. The hammer is'nt working, so many more holes are drilled and  the situation appraised ( a second beer is opened) Then more vigorous hammering in undertaken.

The hole is now sufficently large enough to fit.

4th Problem - The hose now fits so I clean the edges of the hole with my hand to ensure nothing impedes the hose or casues problems later on.The cabinet maker used pretty much every nail he had and I felt a sharp pain in my finger. No  time to worry we had work to do. But now blood is dripping on the floor and getting on everything. The hole in my finger was tiny but the blood just kept going.

So after a first aid stop, the situation was appraised ( yep another beer).

The taps are now connected and the drain-hose is fitted (two hose clamps and a heap of four letter words)

Now all to do is slide in the unit and test.

Clunk. The dishwasher hits the bench and stops. We re-angle and try again, Clunk and stop. This can't be happening how can it be too tall ? I measured the gap and compared this with the manual. We get the measuring tape and remeasure the hole and the dishwasher and they are indeed different.

Time and and a lot more cursing goes by.

The apprentice asks about the screw in feet. He is immediately hailed as a genius. The feet are lowered and in slides the unit. We have 10 minutes to get everything back to normal including putting away all those vases, before the lady of the house gets back.

The apprentice says "I can see you love doing this stuff Dad but you're no plumber"

So I have learned an important lesson - Never get into a fight with a dishwasher as they will have the last laugh.

The not so secret Parenting plan (or divide and prosper)

If your kids are anything like mine, they can go for days or minutes with out fighting and play like long lost friends rediscovering why they were friends in the first place.

But when they don't it can be brutal (I have two boys) and difficult to determine what or whom caused it.

Its a little like Cabin Fever, just getting on each others nerves.

The last thing I want to do try and work out who to punish so I end up just punishing them both for being involved but that leads to an unhappy house.

As parents this can be exasperating, right ? After all its not like they handed us a "How to be a Parent " manual straight after the kids were born (I doubt I would have read it anyway) with all the answers to raising the perfect son/daughter.

Image courtesy of acupofteaftmyselfandme.blogspot.com

So we hatched what at the time we thought was a perfect secret little plan.

So we do what we call "Divide and Conquer", I'll take one combatant boy and the Talented One will take the other and we will do things that each of them they enjoy. Call me old fashioned if you will but nothing works better than complete and un-distracted focus, even if  it's only from one parent.


Now this isn't as easy as it sounds. We are a one car family and intend on staying that way for sometime. It forces us to do things together and ensure that we all participate in each others activities. I'm hoping that the boys are learning empathy and tolerance from this little exercise. It's like learning to enjoy visiting your mother in law but when your 10 and not allowed to drink beer in the car on the way there.

So the weekend can go a little something like this:

Get up and prepare a break fast feast to power up for the day.

Clean up from this feast ( as I've used every pan and there is bacon fat on the wall)

Saturday basketball 

Come home and cook another weekend feast for dinner

Sunday get up and try to recreate prior days breakfast feast (using less pans than the day before and putting the bacon in the oven)

First Choir run for The Eldest

Lunch (by this meal SWMBO has us on salad sandwiches)

Second Choir run for Eldest which encompasses "The Sunday walk"

 to drop the Eldest at choir and then walk back the

 long way home to talk to the little guy one on one.

Not that I get a word in - with all the questions he has.

I'm pretty sure has saved up every question he had during the week and needs them all answered whilst we walk. I think he does this because he doesn't want his brother to know he has so many questions. I really see the difference in my sons when I deal with them on their own. I suppose they feel a little more comfortable with the one on one time as there is no risk of being judged when your other competitor sibling isn't present.

During the week the early morning 0800 start for the Eldest's choir is when we walk though the leafy suburbs of Melbourne just chatting one on one. Sometimes we pick a topic of discussion and then talk it through over the 30 minute walk. Sometimes we just talk about Minecraft the whole way. We never stay on topic for long and it's been a real eye opener for me.

As well as these weekly activities there are weekends planned where depending on schedules special one off excursions are planned.

For us it's all about that fine balance between together time and one on one time. The funny thing is no-one can tell us whether it's right or wrong because the final conclusion will only be known many, many years from now.

So that's our solution. Simple and so far completely effective. I'm not sure how secret it is though.

Dad dating (a lesson for families)

When the kids make a new friend, the wives usually become friends because they are picking up / dropping off the kids to and from school and so by default get to spend more time to get to know each other. The kids spend all day to together and then you throw in a few play dates and everybody is comfortable with each other.

So that means all that's left is for the Dads to become friends.

Sounds simple right ?

Wrong.....

Like everything in the world all men (whilst being perfect ) are different and will have different interests (and sporting codes / teams etc )

Well duh , I hear you say. Shush - thank you, just hear me out.

Kids make friends pretty simply. Another kid would have to do something pretty drastic to have someone say " I don't like them "
Same with wives and significant others. They have the kids, the school etc, as things in common. They then build from there.

So what do we have ?

We have the expectation that we will just get along with the other Dad because, hey we're guys right?  We have simple needs right ?

Pfffffft.

Well imagine you are off to the said first meeting ( herein referred to as "Date")
There will be a mammoth amount of conversations and questions going through our minds prior to the date.

What if he drinks Corona ?

What happens if he pokes holes in the sausages whilst cooking them ?

What happens if he has the BBQ on too high and he burns the food ? 

     What happens if he doesn't like sports ( has happened )

Image courtesy photoeverywhere.co.uk

The stakes are high, you don't want to be the one that brings the whole thing undone by by some simple throwaway comment.

This means that the whole time you are trying to guess what to say (or not to say) and trying to learn as much as you can about the potential suitor by carefully drawing out the information whilst not being overtly suspicious or obvious.

I have been at first time dates and seen normally quite open and easy going Dads turn into human ostriches. They simply just didn't know where to go with the conversation and just completely withdrew in order to not wreck the date for everyone.

So to Dads embarking on the first date - Be prepared - ask your family about their new friends, background intel prior to the date is always usable as conversation starters when you have exhausted other channels.

And to families - I implore you to go easy on your Dad next time you want him to go to your new found friends house or catch up with them. There is a lot for your Dad to worry about and a lot of pressure on him to get it right.

After all it's pretty hard to replace us and start again - Right ?

Right ?

Keeping up with the kids (a cautionary tale)

As the road rises to meet me, I am reminded of two irrefutable laws of this planet.

1) Gravity

2) You can't teach an old dog new tricks

So how did I end up here. Was it vanity  ?

No.

Was it stupidity ?

 No comment.

Image courtesy of berkeleymediatraining.co.uk

As I watch my sons grow into men, I have to remind my self that some of the things they will do / learn , they will have to do by themselves.

It is a natural instinct to try to simply tell them  " Hey don't do that because..."
We are parents first and people second. So I constantly have to try not to get in the way of learning. No matter how tempting it is.

But who will tell me ? Who will say "that's probably not a good idea ?"

Anyway back to the story. So here I am on a pavement in Melbourne, a brand new pair of jeans shredded. Blood trickling down my leg and my dignity no where to be seen.

All because I tried to keep up with the boys.

By trying to ride a scooter.

You know the type, the ones with little skateboard wheels and a thin platform to stand on.  The scooters were bought on line ( like a dad gift, that we all use) sort of like so we could get around to places faster and have some fun. I had just finished a delivering Older Son to choir practice and was returning home.

It had all gone well until now.

As I limped home the only real thought I'm entertaining is "how do I hide this from She who Knows best"

That's not going to be easy, the new jeans were a joint purchase on a recent trip to Sydney. The scab that was forming on my leg is sizable. Both will be hard to hide.

Once I have cleaned up I realize that I am 41 years old. I am not as nimble as I thought. I should not try am not going to be able to do all the things that the boys can do.  I ride and run regularly and try as best I can to keep in good health and I do this to keep up with my boys.

I do this because every day I see parents who just can't keep up with their kids and that makes me sad and spurs me on to not fall into this trap.

I love the fact that we run together. I love the fact that we play footy together and I will keep on trying to do all these things  until I draw my last breath (or my hip disintegrates into dust)

But it has become plainly and painfully obvious that there are now somethings I would like to do or think that I can do, that I will just have to pass on.


So I stuffed the jeans into the cupboard and put the bloodied tissues in the bin. I looked into the mirror and I said out loud " Well at least you didn't land on your face "

The next day it looked like this.

The School holidays (part 2)

As the car turns in to our street it hits home that the holiday is really over.  Finally we got a week (together ) of doing all the things we wanted to do as a family. We headed of to Nungurner (just near Metung) in the picturesque Gippsland Lakes region and got down to serious holidaying.

Went fishing with the boys and never caught a fish (did catch a seahorse -  but they're not that meaty, nor can you ride on them)

Played golf with the boys

Shaved 15 stokes of my golf game which is great because I was 100 now I'm at 85 ( for 9 holes) and I have managed to get down to only losing one or 5 balls per round.

Went for walks on the beach

and we even found road kill in the car park !

Invented a new toasted sandwich (yep those are cocktail franks and cheese)

and for a short while I was Dad on the Row 

Did some slightly faster water sports

Spent quality time with my family and really relaxed (and of course played UNO !)

As I unpacked the car I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. Not because the little dude was asleep. Not because I hadn't hurt myself doing anything dangerous. Not because we stopped the boys having an argument everyday at 0930 precisely after 3 days. 

but for the simple reason that we had now started to create our own memorable holidays.