The Apocalypse of Uncooperativeness

Please, please, please don’t get me wrong. I love being a stay at home Dad and spending lots of time with H. However, there can occasionally be moments when frustration gets the better of me and I come close to losing my cool.

This happened on Tuesday when I nearly lost it with my son. He’s been sick for a few days with a cough and I’d taken him to the doctor the day before. They couldn’t really do much for his cough but they did find he had an ear infection. You can understand then that he’d had a few off days with temperatures, hadn’t been eating and also a couple of disturbed nights.

It was just after 4pm and he needed to have his nappy changed. I hadn’t counted but there had been a few multiples of two in his nappy already during the day. He was sick of having his bottom wiped and I was getting a little sick of doing it too.

It was here that the apocalypse of uncooperativeness began.

Firstly to even try and get his pants off he wouldn’t lie still and kept flipping over onto his hands and knees and then trying to stand up. When this happens I put on some music from a wind up music box and this usually soothes H. Today though – no deal.

Finally the pants were off and we were trying for the nappy. Again though the flipping onto all fours and trying to stand up occurred. The standing up part is ok when you’re trying to get pants off. However, when there is a nappy half off with toxic substances beginning to ooze from the side we have a problem.

If music hasn’t soothed him he quite likes having something in his hands to play with. He likes his nail clippers to play with – but they’d gone over the side of the changes table and bounced under the cot. Likewise his thermometer, gone over the side. His nappy cream, his nappies, soon joined these along with the baby wipes. All that was left was the hand sanitizer cowering in the far corner and a squirming, half-nappied baby trying his best to reach it. 

Finally the nappy was off and his bottom wiped just as the music box stopped and silence prevailed. It wasn’t as if he was being a screaming, crying mess throughout this event. H was giving dad the silent squirms.

I looked at H and said to him, “You’ve unleashed the apocalypse of uncooperativeness here today haven’t you!” Although it probably didn’t come out very clearly because you try saying, “Apocalypse of uncooperativeness,” when you’re trying to pin a squirming bundle of baby down.

Somehow, eventually, how I’m not sure I managed to get the nappy back on H. I do know that the last bit of velcro was attached as he attempted to catapult himself out of my arms. I wasn’t even going to worry about the shorts for a minute and I placed him on the floor. I didn’t want to deal with him for a moment because I was getting very close to losing my cool here.

Let the apocalypse continue though thought H because he picked his shorts up, held them up high and demanded they be put on. “Nooooooooooooo!” I screamed in silent despair. I knelt down to the floor and helped him into one leg of his shorts – thank goodness he was now being cooperative!

That was his point of needing to run again and off he shot around behind me, one leg in his shorts that were now trailing carelessly behind him. That was my point of really getting one step closer to the edge of losing my cool.

“Leave it,” I said to myself. “He’s safe and ok.”

I was close to the floor so I lay down and began to retrieve items that had bounced under his cot and change table. As I stretched as far as I could underneath I realised I had made a critical error of judgment.  Never, ever, ever put yourself in a prone position on your stomach when the apocalypse of uncooperativeness is being unleashed.

Two small hands found their way into the middle of my shoulder blades and in the next moment one leg swung over my body. I had now being unceremoniously mounted like a horse. Of course to make sure a horse is under full control a rider needs a bridle and it was here that the shorts came off the leg and over my head. It was also where the silent squirms ended and a peel of laughter erupted from H.

It was here that I finally lost it. No it was not the cool that I had been so close to losing only moments before.  I lost it in laughter with my son as we both realised his moment of triumph had come over his Dad.

I also grasped that the child who was doing this was not the little boy who a couple of days before had been clingy and miserable. It was a little boy who was starting to feel healthy again and wanting to play, his apocalypse of uncooperativeness was him showing me this in the only way he knew how.  

Let’s just say I was glad I only lost it in laughter because the next hour until dinner was high octane playing before some great eating and heading off to a full night’s sleep.

Holiday leads to digital divorce

We recently returned from an eight day holiday in Fiji. It was a wonderful time to spend with BWM and H. Being able to relax and spend time as a family along with friends who travelled with us was absolutely fantastic. To have two other families, both with young children, gave H plenty of others to play with as well.

The act of breaking the daily routines of home was quite therapeutic in many ways and H enjoyed the opportunity to get in the pool and run bare foot on the grass. It was great to see him play ‘kick a ball’ with his mate who is nearly 2 and generally see the connection that they formed over the course of trip.

Lounging by the pool under the shade of an umbrella it was lovely to pick up a book. During the trip I read Arianna Huffington’s book Thrive that looks at our connections in the everyday world as well as our digital ones. I found the ideas she was espousing quite interesting considering the issues that I was about to face.

However, it was the lack of connection to internet and telephone which was probably the best part of the whole holiday. BWM didn’t bring her phone with her and I was to be a point of contact via phone or email for her work if there were any major issues. Upon our arrival at the resort in Fiji I checked wifi availability and saw there was 24-hour free period. I decided to ignore It for now and take it up some time later in the week.

It was about 4 days into the trip and BWM asked me if there had been any emails. I replied that I hadn’t checked but later that afternoon logged on to the wifi for 24 hours free access. After checking email (nothing there) I then browsed a few stories on the web before going into my social media.

First up was checking Facebook. I initially thought that my timeline had not updated, as it seemed to be exactly the same as when we had left Sydney. However, upon closer examination it had updated – Facebook it seemed had selected the same stuff it thought I would like, ignoring the opportunity for me to see all my friends’ posts. In many ways it was like flicking on ‘The Bold and the Beautiful’ after not having seen it for months and you find the same two characters engaged in the same pouting stare off.

I checked email and the web again the next day under my 24 hour access pass. I again checked Facebook and again found my characters from ‘The Bold’ eagerly engaged in their stare off. Twitter had at least updated and I could read some news bulletins and links to information which I enjoyed reading.

After the 24 hours of wifi I got back into finding connections with my son and my wife as well as the friends with whom we were travelling. It was great not to worry about the phone in the pocket with its instant access to seemingly everything.

Yet later in the week the siren song of addiction called again and I discovered that I could get 24 hours free wifi again. I really wanted to find out how Arsenal went and also the results of a few French and South African rugby games that involved people I know. Facebook called me again and there were all these notifications blaring at me and messages from people which I couldn’t see unless I installed Facebook Messenger and…………….that’s it – Facebook you are no longer my friend!

I deleted Facebook off my phone. I still have an account though and all these emails came through the other day from Facebook telling me all the amazing stuff I’ve been missing out on.

I’m sure I’ll miss out on a few things that my friends in all the far-flung corners of the world post. I’ve friends in Europe, New Zealand, South Africa, Great Britain, North Queensland and even the Sutherland Shire to give an incomplete list. However, I know these people are friends with whom I have a connection and will keep in contact with through old-fashioned methods of communication - like email.

It’s been a week since I got rid of Facebook off my phone and I don’t feel like I’m missing out. There have been a few times I’ve reached for my phone to look at things but I’ve stopped myself and looked at my son instead. I guess I want him to see his Dad connecting with him as much as possible, not just connecting to the phone and a world he can’t yet see and understand.

To paraphrase the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s character to his wife in Total Recall, “Facebook – consider this a divorce!” Perhaps I’ll be back at some stage on the computer checking Facebook but for now I’m staying on a digital holiday I started during my physical one.

Postscript – I know it’s ironic that I’ve posted this on my Facebook page but if you want to comment on it please do so on the blog here or email me. That way I’m sure I’ll see it as I know I won’t be checking in on Facebook on my desktop quite so often.