It is half past 2 and I think I hear the patter,
Here we go again, whatever is the matter?
You are in your own room, it’s always what you wanted,
Now you come and tell me that your “room is haunted.”
Amazing how quickly you end up in our bed,
Fastest way in? Straight over mum’s head.
Two minutes later, like a well-oiled machine,
The other one stumbles in and shatters my dream.
Under the covers and up past my toes,
He slots into place, just under my nose.
Now I am woken, there are four in the bed,
A foot in my chest, an arm on my head.
They want to be close all snuggly and tight,
No my little friend, it’s the middle of the night.
Waking with a jolt I turn to the clock,
My arm has gone numb, I got kicked in the jock
It is now six thirty, and it’s way way too early,
But my sleep is done and I’m feeling quite surly.
I turn my head around and check out the pillow,
To see a sleeping boy with his head in his dribble.
Despite being tired, I feel like a King,
When I get a kiss and cuddle from my kids first thing.
I head to the kitchen to give them a feed,
Tv’s on, games are out, they’ve moved to high speed.
I return to bed when the breakfast is done,
Or should I get changed and go for a run?
No, I head back to crash, then hear them cry,
“Dad, we want more”, and I start to sigh.
“Make it yourself!”, which I instantly know,
Is a daft thing to say, but today I’m too slow.
There’s the rustle of boxes, the sound of the chatter,
Then the crash of the bowls as they tumble and splatter.
Lying in bed I can hear them nicely chat,
Then it escalates from nothing and they pounce like a cat.
Screaming from the bedroom, “stop fighting each other!”,
“I’ll be out in a second, I’m just ‘talking’ with Mother”.
Then in burst the boys with a quizzical look,
“Dad, you’re lying on mum…..why?, oh man I’m gonna puke”
Now we are up getting ready for school,
They use procrastination as their number 1 rule.
We dress and do teeth and fix wrong-way-round clothes,
We get lunches, and schoolbags and wipe a snot nose.
Then when we’re ready, we leave in a rush,
And find their faces are dirty and they still haven’t brushed.
Some days just for fun I will do the school runs,
It gives me a chance to check out other mums.
I go into the classroom and sit on the seat,
Where my knees hit my chin and my hands touch my feet.
The kids are so small and their voices so whiny,
I just knocked one over, couldn’t help it she was tiny.
After school pick up is my favourite time,
To give the kids a hug and see that they are fine.
“Dad, we learnt nothing, and yes we are good”,
“Now please stop talking and give me some food”.
Then home to get ready for the next busy day,
Dinner and laundry let the kids have a play.
These damn packed lunches, are still such a chore,
Cutting bread, spreading jam, veggies and more.
Packing fruit and yogurt, what about the spoon?
If I never see another lunch, that will still be too soon.
Dinner times are fun, well at first they endear,
Soon they become a real pain in the rear.
Why is it hard to keep food on a plate?
I bet they don’t do this when they finally start to date.
Rice is the worst, yet they have so much fun,
When it’s sprayed out the mouth like a small BB gun.
“Tomatoes, carrots and broccoli,” they cry
“Can’t eat that ‘cause I swear that I’ll die!”
“Are you guys for real? Do you really want more?
Then get on your knees ’cause it’s all on the floor.”
Bath time comes and didn’t you know,
It’s impossible to stop a young boy in mid flow.
I explain this each night, but they just never see,
No-one wants to wash themselves in your pee.
Little one says “sorry” then “what can I do?”
“Surely this is better than a rogue number 2?”
Coming out the bath, throwing towels on the floor,
Tickles then kisses, “are you ready for more? “
“Wrestle you dad?” they ask in a mumble,
I begin with a growl and end in a rumble.
Time to do your homework, which I still find fun,
I listen and encourage and say “good on ya, son”
Then it’s time for the ritual, the start of the routine,
Brush those teeth and show me that your face is clean.
When you are ready and have done all I said,
Pick a story, just the one, and hop into bed.
Parents, at school, there’s a class you don’t know,
It’s the one where they learn how to stall and go slow.
It’s the class where the kids start to hatch their weird plan,
On staying out of bed for as long as they can.
Concocting little tales and discussing ideas,
The winner is admired and adored by their peers.
“I hate sleeping, there’s a monster, I’m not tired and there’s more,
I’m scared and I’m itchy, I’m bored and I’m sore.
I need a poo and a wee, I can’t sleep, I’m not tired,
I need water, I am hungry, I want new parents, you’re fired!”
“Just kidding. We love you – come here for a cuddle”
I wake up an hour later on the bed in a huddle.
And so we come full circle, another day has been,
The house is quiet and the house is clean.
I am exhausted and try as I might,
When my head hits the pillow I am out like a light.
It’s half past 2 and I think I hear the patter,
Here we go again, whatever is the matter……………..