Accidental House Life

Anger. That's what I'm feeling right now. Nothing but anger. For those of you who read this blog and employ people you may want to read this post twice. For those of you who are employed, please read and feel the anger of hundreds and thousands of people like me. For those of you who are like me, scream. No matter where you are, scream, you're allowed to, there's no law against it, just do it, you deserve it. In case you're not there yet, my anger is due to my employment status and that feeling that the whole world is against me. Interviews since September, lots. Down to the final few, lots minus 1, job offers, zero, zilch, nada, none, sweet FA. You know this, dear reader, I've written about it before, you also no my feelings on the word "experience" I just wish employers knew the meaning of the word. Honestly, ask any stay at home parent what "experience" they have for any role and take 10 steps back so you don't get caught in the blas...

There are many aspects of being a parent that you expect. Emotionally you know that not every day is going to be perfect, tantrums will be thrown, arguments will be had and you can guarantee tears will flow. Physically you know teeth will be lost, legs will be bruised, somewhere will be cut and eventually bones will be broken. We are nearing the stage at the Castle where the onset of puberty, although possibly years away, is also a  blink of an eye away and so is "The Talk" but that's for another post (a very long post, possibly 5 pages, with pictures and audio, I'm not doing it alone! You have been warned). But todays post is about the one closest to most of our hearts, the aspect of parenting we were warned about, the one we thought we had prepared for, the one that was the main topic of the decision (you know, who stays at home, does anyone stay at home, they do! Oh, it's me is it, right we are then).  Yesterday was subs day for the boy child and his Bea...

The backs gone again. The joy of back pain and being a house husband is, well, nothing. Only when you hurt something do you realise how much you use it and only then do you realise how much you need it. Now I was going to go on a lovely long poetic metaphor upon how my situation mirrors aspects of our daily lives but dammit my back really does hurt! As you may remember dear reader I usually type my witterings whilst stood in my "office" but no more. I have had to join the world of those who sit. "What's his problem?" you may ask, well I'll tell you. If you are of average dimensions you may not be aware of the daily struggles anyone above 6 foot has. I myself stand at just shy of 6ft 4inches, coupled with a previously discussed weight of a small mountain gorilla, life can throw up some interesting challenges. For example, for the last 5 weeks the Castle has been awash with Christmas cheer, resulting in a constant crouch position being my main form of moveme...

The wonderful wife asked a very interesting question the other evening. Whilst watching a particularly dull Christmas special on TV the usual post Boxing day adverts arrived prompting this; "what does a holiday mean to me?" An easy question to answer you may say, but on closer inspection, I disagree. Now for those of you of the working persuasion a holiday can quite simply be a break from work. Whether this be a long weekend, a week or even a fortnight, any break from the daily commute can be a welcome one. Even though it seems a lifetime ago I well remember that warm, glorious feeling of that final drive home prior to that wonderful break spending time away from my desk, not thinking about work and drinking in the afternoon purely because I could. Driving home for Christmas wasn't just an exceptionally good song but my official start of the holiday. Knowing that once parked that car of mine was only moving when I wanted to go somewhere, that, prior to children, the al...

With a sense of deja vu I feel the need to post a quick reminder to all the non house parents out there (and to reassure everyone like me it's ok, everything will be ok) that, all though you may be lucky enough to have time off work, you are now entering someone else's office. I know, I know, I've posted about this before, but a summer break is a lot different than Christmas. A quick calculation tells this stay at home parent that his world is about to turned upside down in 2 sleeps. Now for you mathematicians out there, you're right, that still several sleeps short of Christmas day, but for you stay at homers who feel my pain (stock up with Baileys, NOW!) it's about to be holiday time. You know it's coming, you think you've planned everything, all eventualities should be dealt with and yet....... Christmas is a different holiday to all the others and not just for the obvious reasons. Yes there's the stress of money, yes there's the stress of the...

The more astute amongst you would have seen a gap in posts with no new insight from the Castle for a week. This is down to a simple fact, I have nothing "fun" to write about. When I first embarked on this blog journey I wanted to give an honest but upbeat account of life as a stay at home parent. Too many times I've read through other peoples rants and thought "well that was a waste of my time" and I didn't want to be that kind of writer, but this past week (well, month actually) has seen a reversal on that position as life, at the moment, frankly sucks. Don't get me wrong, there are things that I shall be eternally grateful for. The wonderful wife, my two amazing children and doughnuts, but as the agonising search for the next chapter of my accidental house life continues, I feel a horrible sense of deja vu and a sinking feeling of monotony. My days are quickly blurring into one long continuous slog of dishwasher washing machine dinner making school ...

Another interview, another thanks but no thanks. Another day of application form filling followed by another morning lost to an interview to which the answer was a predictable "no". I know I'm not the only one in this boat but I do feel as though I'm sailing this one on my own. Don't get me wrong, the wonderful wife is very supportive, says all the right things and puts no pressure at all on my job hunting activities, but this is beginning to get to me. What makes this one worse is I didn't even want this job. Yep, you read that right, I applied for a job I knew I didn't want. I went to an interview for a job I didn't want, and you know what? If they had offered me the job I would have still said yes. This is the stage, after nearly 2 years of job hunting, that I am at. The confidence is gone. No longer am I looking at positions I think I can do, that work for the family and provide enough income to be viable, no longer am I reaching for that role th...

On the dining room door at the Castle is a league table. On that league table (carefully constructed with points awarded through a highly complex mathematical formula) are the results of our family games nights (and days). Now this may make some of you scratch your heads. "Aren't his kids 6 and 8? Why would you need a league table? Doesn't he let his kids win ?" Dear reader, at the Castle, we all play to win. I may have mentioned in previous musings that in my youth I was quite sporty, so my competitive streak stretches back many, many decades. But being British, it is a British competitive streak. I know in recent times that winning has become a bit of a habit for all teams British (even Football if you ignore the actual England Team), but it is a pretty recent phenomenon and for old folks like me it takes a bit of getting used to. No, I was raised the old fashioned British way. You remember, the "it's taking part that counts, winning isn't everythi...

Without going into detail children did not arrive easily to the Castle, so we are eternally grateful for our two amazing little people that now control every aspect of our lives (no really, we are). It's never too difficult to remember the times where laughter is the over-riding sound within the home and every day something new happens which stops me in my tracks. However, kids are kids. Not every moment is filled with sweetness and light, not everyday makes my heart burst with pride and not everyday has this writer reaching for the keyboard wanting to share with the world the wonder of being a stay at home parent. There are some days that end in a Y. Case in point. Eldest child wishes to go to a sleepover. No problem there you may think. Unfortunately the eldest child sometimes has an issue with attitude (8 going on 14) which sometimes results in child number 2 having some very difficult times. Now don't get me wrong, I was the youngest, I know how it goes. Unfortunately ...

As the dweller in a relatively modest home, one of the biggest issues I face on a daily basis is space. Or, more accurately, the lack of it. Cast your mind back to when you first viewed the home in which you're living. That first tentative viewing after scouring the internet (or papers, if you're my age) for hours and hours. That breath of excitement when you found the one you thought you could call home. Bet you thought it was huge didn't you? Not once did you think you'd fill it. "16 cupboards in a kitchen, who on earth needs 16 cupboards?"" Look, there's space under the stairs, oh, let's put our bikes there". "Have you seen the size of the spare room? Let's turn it into an office". All of these sentences, and many more, were said upon first entering the Castle as we marvelled at how we were moving up in the world. Then a very annoying thing happened. My children started growing. No warning, no "please Dad, I'm ju...

After time you realise that being a stay at home parent is your job. It's not well paid (0 hours contact and below minimum wage), the hours are long, the holidays are like working double shifts and, as previous posts have shown, your health suffers. But the perks are good (unlimited beverages and food), your employer loves you and the rewards, though few and far between, can be priceless. It's on certain mornings, the "clockwork" mornings, that you find yourself smiling. Before my accidental house life I had worked all my life. Even during college and university days I held a part time job (the later turning into a full time job hence the lack of a degree) but I struggle to recall ever being so settled in the workplace. Yes the hours are long, but I enjoy the setting and can take my breaks when I want to, and yes it can be repetitive, but you know what, I eat food and wear clothes too, just crack on. But a weird realisation hit me the other day, I've designated ...

The back is fixed, hooray. Well nearly. All physio is done, my leg is no longer numb and I can bend over without pain ( I still groan though, I'm 45). So back to normality. Normality for a stay at home parent, as regulars know, means housework, school runs, breakfasts, lunches and dinners, clothes washing and generally drinking as many cups of tea as the day will allow. But what I have discovered, and has been backed up by my ever tightening trousers, is that my regular routine must include exercise. This, in a round about way, brings me onto todays topic. Physical education, as we are constantly told by the press, is of upmost importance, not just for this generation but for all generations. We are told and advised by our oh so svelte press and politicians that we are an obese nation waiting for a giant heart attack to happen.  About 2.1 billion people – nearly 30% of the population of the planet – are overweight or obese, raising the risk of diabetes, heart disease and cancers....

Many moons ago, when I was a healthy young lad (don't laugh, I used to be) I, like many others, took great enjoyment out of sport. Whether it be football, rugby, cricket or basketball (told you, well healthy) many a day and evening was passed in the resplendent nature of physical activity. Hours would fly by, fun would be had and never the next day did it hurt getting out of bed. As the years pass you cut down the number of sports played, in some cases added new, more sedate, activities (golf anyone, again don't laugh it's a sport!) but still the joy of playing never dwindled. Then, out of nowhere, middle age arrives. 11 aside sports are replaced by 6 aside and touch only replaces the full on brutality you were used to. But still, a high enough level of enjoyment is achieved to make the next morning pains seem worthwhile. Then a few more years pass and you know what? Not worth it anymore. The get together with friends is enjoyable, but do you really need to see them EVERY...