Potty training is shit. Literally. OK, it’s not that bad, but it’s still pretty frustrating at times. For the record, Rupert is only about two or three weeks into ‘proper training’ but so far he’s doing really well with the concept and seems to be embracing it as part of being a ‘big boy.’ We’ve had some successes, but we’ve also had some accidents along the way – but that’s totally to be expected. Before Christmas, we took a bit of a half-hearted approach to potty training.
I’ve been a Daddy for almost four years now. I know what you’re thinking, Rupert’s only three, how can you have been a Daddy for four? Well, I counted myself as one the moment Jess told me we were going to be having him. There are some who may not agree. Who think that you’re not a parent until the baby arrives, or the baby/child arrives in their home, but I chose to view it differently. For the most part I love being a Dad. I love getting out and about with the kids and taki
I love my kids. They’re funny, they’re sweet and although I may be biased, they’re bloody gorgeous as well. But bugger me they can be a bit full on at times. Currently, Rupert wants to do everything for himself – everything but use a potty that is, but that’s another matter. Now, I know what you’re thinking, a bit of independence is great, children should learn to do things for themselves, and yes I’m all for that. Now, imagine independence while picturing a three-year-old po
I’ve been struggling. I’ve found it tough looking after the kids full time for quite a few reasons, which I’ll go into in a second. It was one of those things that crept up on me, then suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. I was low, I was miserable, and I pushed people away, stupidly thinking I could get through it and things would get easier. They didn’t. I was naïve. I thought that looking after Rupert and Emilia would be easy. I mean, they’re my kids, how hard could it be
Just recently I started a new job. I say new, I’ve been doing it on a ‘part-time’ basis for two and a half years, but now I’ve been ‘promoted’ to full time Daddy. My wife, Jess, went back to work this week after taking the last year off on maternity leave and I’ll therefore need to be on hand to take over the parental responsibilities. I’m not scared, you’re scared. To be honest, I’m not really that worried about it. For starters, they’re my children, and I know them pretty w
As parents we’re always looking for things to do with our children. Sometimes it can be something simple in the garden or a nice walk, and other times it’s a day out. When they’re babies it’s fairly easy, you get to do all the things that YOU want to do and they come along for the ride. But as they grow, children have an increasing awareness of what they like and what they don’t. With Rupert, we can’t often pass a park without him running in or wanting to play, and fortunatel
‘Let me walk you to your car.’ ‘I can go with you if you like.’ ‘Message me when you get home safe.’ I have said all of these throughout the years to people of both genders, but mainly to my female friends, girlfriends and family members, but why? Society dictates that we need/needed to look after females when they were going out alone, or as a small group because they were more in danger than men. This is unfortunately because there are some absolute sickos around. A recent
I’m pretty sure whoever invented children’s clothes doesn’t have children themselves. I love dressing the children and making them look their best, but sometimes it takes so much effort to put the clothes on that I’d rather they wore something that you can just pull over their heads. Take this morning, for example. I put Emilia’s vest on – easy, even putting tights on is fairly easy (easier than I imagined, anyway) but then I got to the dress and it’s just a pain. Who in thei
Jess and I love reading to our children. Rupert has a story or two before he goes down for a nap, and two more (sometimes the same two) when it’s time to sleep for the night. With Emilia it’s hard to hold her concentration for that long but still, you’re never too young to be read to. Our beautiful boy, Rupert, arrived in November 2018 and when his sister, Emilia, arrived in May of this year we wondered how he would not only take to being a big brother but how he would adapt
Sleep training is a difficult thing to do. Right now we’re doing just that with Emilia and, as with everything else, it’s giving us some mixed results. Some nights she can go down and sleep easily and give us four hour stints and be very easy to settle again once she wakes up. She’s recently moved into her own room into a big girl cot so it’s a huge couple of changes for her to handle at once. Throw sleep training into the mix as well and it’s a little bit of a recipe for dis
This Sunday was a weird day. It was the first time in 35 years that I’ve had a birthday in lockdown. But I’m not alone though, there will have been millions who this affected, not only back in March but also across this whole year – including my mother-in-law and Rupert too. Hopefully, my MIL had just as good a day as I did because despite the lockdown I had an amazing time. Yes, I could only see my Dad and brother outside, and one by one, and yes I couldn’t hug them or go ou
Hands up, how many parents out there, even non-parents have ever played with their/a child’s toys or eaten their food? I have to admit that sometimes I’ve had a little taste of Rupert’s yoghurt, or some other tasty dinner we’ve made him and he’s not eaten. Then, of course, I justify it by saying that it was going to go to waste anyway. Well, it was, right? There are also, so many of Ru’s toys that I’ve shown more interest in than him and on more than one occasion I have built
Oh fudge, what the flip, and shhhhh-ugar! As a parent you have to get pretty imaginative when it comes to covering your swearing and pretending you haven’t said a rude word. Jess and I are definitely of the opinion that swearing will be strictly forbidden in our house, so I have to do everything to cover my sweary mouth. This doesn’t just mean saying words like clucking banker, or truck you, because they’re words that can be mis-pronounced or heard wrong, so Emi or Rupert may
This weekend was a first for the Ellis family – as it was the first time any of us had gone pumpkin picking. Rupert is a massive fan of getting out and about, Emilia is always beautifully behaved wherever we go and Jess and I just like spending time together – so it seemed perfect. Let me first start out by telling you a little bit about the premise of the day in case you’re thinking of heading there yourself. The Patch is a working farm area, Mount Mill Farm to be exact, bas
Going out as a four is a military operation. We often get as much prepared the night before as we can, so we can literally throw it all in the car and then get going. I must admit though that doesn’t always happen. This weekend Jess, Rupert, Emilia and I visited the Wimpole Estate in Cambridgeshire. It’s the first weekend we’ve had to ourselves in absolute ages and in case anyone was thinking about going I wanted to give you a bit of a review before you do. Before you even ge
Time is one of those things that we all get in equal measure. Each day we get 24 hours to do with whatever we want. That’s 1440 minutes, or 86,400 seconds, and when you say it like that it seems like a lot. Especially seeing as we spend at least a third of that sleeping. With me I go to sleep anywhere between 9pm (some days) and 11pm before getting up around 7am when Rupert gets up. The moments outside of that I try my hardest to spend with those I love the most. Like I’ve sa
In the last four months I’ve been working from home, much like a number of people around the country. However, when you say working from home you envision waking up 15 minutes before work starts, rolling into the shower and then making it downstairs with a coffee in front of your laptop with a minute to spare before work starts. Working from home when you have two children, one of whom is a newborn, is completely different. Here’s a typical day for my wife and I. 5am – drag m
When you have children people always tell you ‘no two children are the same.’ You do your best not to compare but sometimes it’s impossible. So and so’s little one down the road walked at 10 months, that other baby is already eating solids at five months, matey boy’s son slept through the night from six weeks. I hate the competition of it. Most of us learn to eat and talk eventually. I mean, I’ve not yet met a person who crawls everywhere like a baby, pointing up at the coffe
Procrastinating is a terrible thing.
How many times have you gone to do something only to be distracted and end up doing something else completely? You end up down a rabbit hole of ‘this YouTube video is telling me a new way I should be washing my socks,’ yet the blogs you should have written go unfinished.
Just recently I’ve suffered from this, ok maybe not the sock videos, but I should have written a lot more blogs than I have. And it’s not like I haven’t had the material.
Since Emilia has arrived Rupert has been amazing. He beams when he sees her, he lays his head on her chest when he can, and he hasn’t had any regression in sleep (fingers crossed.) However, Emilia or not, there’s one thing I’m struggling with as Rupert has hit the 18-month milestone and that’s discipline – I’m not sure what method is going to work. At the moment he doesn’t seem to understand no, he’s too young to stay on any naughty step and there’s no way I’m laying a finger