Daddy’s hobby.

Daddy has a hobby.

Daddy likes to sleep.

Daddy is Olympic standard at sleeping.

Daddy could win a gold medal for sleeping.

Daddy says he never gets enough sleep.

Daddy gets grumpy when he doesn’t get his full quota.

Daddy manages to sleep through most things.

Daddy often comments on how good the ‘kids were in the night!!’

Daddy doesn’t realise that they woke up 35 times.

Daddy loves to ‘plan’ when he will have a lie in.

Daddy loves a plan.

Daddy is kind though and often offers for me to have a lie in.

Daddy sadly does not hear the kids when they wake, therefore the lie in is void.

Daddy therefore makes Mummy get rage and occasionally throw things.

Daddy makes Mummy act like a lunatic.

Daddy would say Mummy is just a lunatic.

Daddy sometimes falls asleep before the kids.

Daddy doesn’t realise this is not allowed in the ‘rules of parenting.’

Daddy doing this makes Mummy want to set the Frogbeaast on him. (the angry alter ego of our two year old.)

Daddy has the ability to sleep wherever he is at whatever time.

Daddy lOVES to do this on family holidays.

Daddy has a very bad reputation on family holidays.

Daddy will sneak off from wherever we are and will be found asleep somewhere like a tramp.

Daddy doing this makes Mummy send the kids (including the nieces) to jump on him.

Daddy will then get a slap round the chops if he tries this on our holiday.

Daddy is however an amazing Daddy but he just loves to sleep!












Super Grandad x

Keeping in tradition with our ‘special days of the year’ blogs, we have an ‘Ode to Grandad/Dad blog Post’ in honour of ‘Father’s Day.’ I am so bloody lucky to have a Dad still with us and I know this day along with every other day of the year is so hard for people who have lost their fathers. All my thoughts go out to those people and particularly some of my close friends. You know who you are and I am thinking of you today….xxx

Here goes:

He is Dad.
He is calm.
He is relaxed.
He is so relaxed, he is almost horizontal.
He is practical.
He is not emotional.
If Barack Obama was at a party he was at, he would probably forget to mention it.
People say I look like him. (Ummmm??? A man? Excellent!)
He carted me and my Brother around the country playing tennis tournaments when we were growing up.
He gave up every weekend for this and mornings before work for lessons.
He supported my tennis so much, encouraged me and never got stressed (or didn’t show it.)
He drove me to the airport when I was 13 and went on a European tennis tour.

Dad and I at a tennis tournament. what on earth in going on with my hair and why am I holding a tiger?

Dad and I at a tennis tournament. what on earth in going on with my hair and why am I holding a tiger?

He basically passed my maths and science GCSE’S.
He explained Maths and Science to me in a way that I could understand it. (In other words, in the most basic way.)
He laughed when my Science teacher told him that his daughter was a ‘natural scientist!!???’ (bullshit)
He drove me to Manchester University on my first day and continued to help me move every year I changed accommodation.
He must have driven up to Manchester 30 times.
He kept my Mum calm when I went to Australia travelling for a year when I was 23.

Returning from a year's travelling.

Returning from a year’s travelling.

He is a geologist, loves a map, rocks and is proud to be from Bermuda.
He retired, had a retirement party but then carried on working? He is now semi retired.
He looks at maps and works out the best way for me to get to places as I have no sense of direction.
He is our taxi service. He picks us up from the airport and drives us anywhere.
He is the most hands on Granddad you could get.
He has changed nappies since the kids were born, been puked on, pissed on, pooped on and rocked all his Granddaughters to sleep.
He took 3 days off work to look after Mrs Bean (now age 7) when she was 4 months when we went to a wedding in Ireland.
He walked her around the village in a pram like the one in the ‘railway children’ that Mum got from a charity shop.
He was so proud to become a Granddad.
He has 4 granddaughters, my two and my twin nieces, my Brother’s kids.
He takes the kids swimming and occasionally forgets where he is and gets a loud ‘knock’ from the window from Granny who is watching behind the glass.
He takes the kids in his garden and fails notice Mrs Frog drinking water from the bird bath (random shit in my parents garden) and gets a loud knock from Granny at the window.
He does like to drift off during family occasions (very similar to Daddy Irish.)

At Christmas with a very young Mrs Bean xx

At Christmas with a very young Mrs Bean xx

He has the ability to fall asleep wherever he is.
He is the one who I call when I cannot do/or help Mrs Bean (age 7) with her homework (for example ‘why can’t sound travel through space? No idea…DADDDDDDDDDDDD HELPPPPPPPPPP!!!’)
He comes up to London to see the kids frequently but always brings his own lunch (usually sandwiches) because he knows there will be no food in the house because I will have eaten it all.
He is always sent up to our house with lists of ‘jobs’ to do!
He does all our DIY because Daddy Irish has no passed his DIY GCSE yet.
He set up Mrs Bean’s first pram as Daddy Irish struggles with these things.


He changes our light bulbs and mows our lawn.
He helps us move house every time we move.
He picked me up from the hospital after I had my second miscarriage.
He still signs cards to my Mum ‘Best wishes.’ (Doesn’t go down well.)
He sometimes signs cards to me ‘from Roger.’ (Forgets who he is writing to.)
He loves swimming and is always telling me that I should take it up (‘yawn Dad, am far too unfit.’)
He answers the phone to me and asks if ‘I want Mum’ after 10 seconds (as Dad’s do.)
He always takes ages to carve a roast dinner and I have to take over as I have no patience.
He gets heaps of abuse from Granny and his daughter (me) but he just takes it and zones out.
He never mentioned the cringe text he received from one of my mates from uni who stole my phone and sent a message to every bloke in my phone saying ‘I really like you and want to go on a date with you.’ #cringe #embarrassing
He used to pick up me and my mates up from parties when we were teenagers – sozzled on Hooch, 20 20 or Lambrusco!
He doesn’t bat an eyelid when I forget his Birthday.
He never knows what he wants for Christmas and just says ‘socks or a ladder???’
He is obsessed with looking at houses for us to buy, but hasn’t quite grasped London prices yet -‘How about this one?’ ‘Yes Dad, it’s lovely but is 3 million pounds!!!!!’
He loves cycling swimming, playing tennis and going sailing.
He has survived many stand offs with Mrs Frog (Age 2.)


He survived a half an hour battle to get Mrs Frog in the car once, when we left her with him at Gatwick, to go on a break away without the kids.
He came up and stayed the night a lot, when Mrs Frog was a baby and had a milk intolerance and cried all the time.
He took her off me and calmed her one night when I was hysterical and losing the plot with the crying.
He plays ludo with Mrs Bean.
He doesn’t listen when I tell him to read Mrs Bean just ONE story and is still in her room after an hour, having read ten stories and is then sings the entire book of nursery rhymes because she asked him too.
He doesn’t listen but what man does?
He watched Mrs Bean’s 2 hour gym display, despite her only being in it for 5 minutes (painful).
He took her to her first ever audition.
He legged it round the garden with the kids in a sledge when he arrived back from Japan with jetlag.


His grandkids faces light up when he arrives.
He gets up with the kids when I am at home and makes them breakfast so I can sleep.
He is patient with me and his grandkids.
He does absolutely anything and everything for me, my kids and our family.
We are so lucky to have him. He does SO MUCH FOR US XXXXXX

The end xxxxxx

At my Brother's weddingxxx

At my Brother’s weddingxxx

Mrs Bean as a baby xxx

Mrs Bean as a baby xxx




Careful what you wish for….

Mrs Frog (age 2 and half) was referred by the doctor to see a psychologist about her epically uncontrollable ‘code reds’. (CR’s – extreme tantrums where not even Queen Elsa could wave her wand and make it better.)
It is also to help her Mummy to find ways to cope with them and keep Mrs Frog safe from self harming. (Aka head bashing.)
They have both found it very useful.
Mrs Frog has behaved like butter wouldn’t melt for the first 5 sessions.
Mrs Frog has made her mother look like a deranged liar who makes up stories about her daughter’s alter ego ‘the frogbeast’
Mrs Frog’s Mum wished a little that the phycologists could see what she has to deal with at home.
Mrs Frog’s Mum got her wish today…..and she wished that she had not wished for it.
Mrs Frog slipped up and showed her true colours.
Her mother was relieved for about 5 seconds that the psychologists (there is one who is ‘training’) could see what she had been banging on about for the last 5 sessions.
But when it went on for the entire session Mrs Frog’s Mum was wishing her daughter would go back to ‘butter wouldn’t melt child and just look like a liar.’
Poor Mrs Frog just couldn’t control herself (for no apparent reason other than that she didn’t want to be there and then wanted her dummy which her Mother had not got with her.)
Mrs Frog wanted Daddy, Granny, Granddad, Peppa, her doggy, her home, anything that wasn’t there.
Mrs Frog turned into an Olympic gymnast with her flipping and rolling, a WWF wrestler with her body slams and acted like she was in a boxing ring with her right hooks at Mummy.
Her alter ego was out in full colours and no one could control her.
It was suggested after the 20th right hook that the session was to end.
The lovely slightly shell shocked psychologists’ were kind enough to walk the Mummy and the unhappy (understatement) Mrs Frog to the car.
The unhappy child was hurling herself out of Mummy’s arms and still trying to get some last right hooks.
The Mummy was at this point in tears at the absolute horrendousness of this session and wished she had not wished for them to see Mrs Frog’s true colours.
She wished Mrs Frog had been the doey eyed angel that she had been before in previous sessions.
Mrs Frog’s Mummy should be careful what she wishes for………
The rain was of course lashing down (because we seem to now live in a Monsoon climate) and the scene was a similar scene to that of the ‘Notebook’ but sadly with no Ryan Gosling and just three woman wrestling a 2 year old into the car seat, so actually nothing like the ‘Notebook’ apart from the rain and tears.
Mrs Frog’s Mum then facetimed Mrs Frog’s Daddy at work in pure desperation. His colleagues must be used to this occurrence by now. Screaming child, crying mother #embarrassing #justthenorm
Mrs Frog’s Mum eventually got her daughter in the car seat after 20 minutes and drove home sobbing and muttering whilst the rain lashed against the windscreen ‘why is she like this’ whilst avoiding large red buses that think they rule the roads of London.
Mrs Frog’s Mum got Mrs Frog into bed with her dummy.
(Dear Dummy makers, Thank god for this wonderful pink bit of plastic or whatever it is made from that has saved my life on numerous occasions, which doesn’t look pretty but I couldn’t give a sh** and sooths my little girl so much and saves us both from insanity, which I will give to her new cousin when he is born….I promise?)
Mrs Frog’s Mum then lay in her bed and watched ‘Love Island’ to calm herself down and wondered why anyone would ever go on this programme but secretly loved absolutely loved every minute of it.
Mrs Frog’s Mum, despite having one of the worlds worst mornings did manage to bring herself to have a little giggle later when she remembered a moment in the middle of Mrs Frog’s ‘awful outburst’ at the counselling session where her daughter took her shoes off and threw them at full speed at the poor trainee psychologist….followed by a toy drum.
It was a low. mortifying moment but rather amusing in retrospect.( Just NOT for the trainee psychologist!)
Mrs Frog’s Mum wondered whether the psychologists will come with body armour on next week.
Mrs Frog’s Mum also wondered whether the session had made the trainee decide to change career.
Mrs Frog’s Mum will drink wine tonight and start again tomorrow and will continue to love her frogbeast and do whatever she can to help her with her ways.
Mrs Frog’s Mum will continue to write ‘Whine or Wine’ to keep ‘light’ these shitarse times and laugh about them because what else is she gonna do? Cry!!! Oh shit she has already done that.
Mrs Frog’s Mum has aged 900 years after today.
Mrs Frog’s Mum still loves her little girl with all her heart despite the bashings.
Mrs Frog, I have been told will turn good in teenage years.
Mrs Frog’s Mum will need a lot of wine to make it to the teenage years.

Ageing 900 years.

Ageing 900 years.


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