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~*UKFF's Children Thread*~


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He's here! Everyone doing well. She went for epidural in the end, didn't need half as much cheerleading as the first time. I ended up sitting in the corner playing my Switch for a stretch. (I started

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I was bathing my youngest (18mths) on Saturday when my 5yr old burst in desperate for a wee. Instead of looking where he was aiming, he was far more interested in talking to us, and proceeded to

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This is the only place I could share this sort of anecdote, and why I pray no one in my personal life ever discovers this account.

A little insight into parenting no one ever wants to give you, cos their kids are fucking perfect..

Friday night, my six year old wakes up in the night from a coughing fit, and despite being, and I swear, three foot from the toilet doors, proceeded to vomit a cocktail of hot chocolate and mince all over the landing floor, destroying skirting boards and doors as it ricochet everywhere upon contact with the laminate.

Saturday afternoon, my four year old emerged from the toilet caked in shit up to his forearms after attempting to wipe his own bottom.  He’d snuck upstairs and not told anyone he needed a poo.  The clean up operation was like nothing ever before it.  The fingernails... my lord.

Saturday evening, his “just dangle his pish over the rim” technique came back to haunt us, and our bathroom was transformed into one big piss filled shallow end.

This morning, my two year old shat.  I knew he’d shat, but it was before 7am and so I promised myself that I’d change him when the alarm went off, but alas, he saw to it that I’d never see that lie in, by serving me up two scoops of mother nature’s finest, reaching into his drawers for a right good root around.  Honestly, I’m laid in the same room as I type getting him off to sleep and despite a comprehensive search I can’t be sure there’s not a smear somewhere I’ve missed.

This afternoon, we get an encore from the four year old and yet another massive piss reserved for the floor tiles and then, to top it all off...

I was sat in the chair resting my eyes a couple of hours ago, when my two year old, who’s teething hard right now and has a thing for gnawing on my trackie drawstrings, misjudged things somewhat and took a massive bite of my foreskin.  It’s still tender.

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My lad's now four and we're pretty much at the same stage. We're trying to have conversations about cleaning himself after pooing as he's now at school. The main issue though is him refusing to accept that he needs to go and so he waits until his legs are dancing and there's 10 seconds before disaster.

He's still also pooing far more than is physically possible for his body to contain.

Where he does excel though is picking up songs. Earlier this year he heard Fire (by Arthur Brown) in the background of a TV show and then sang it 3 days later, completely blowing my mind. Today he started singing Frampton's Show Me The Way and none of can figure out where he might have possibly heard it. We did ask him where he got it from, and he simply answered "from Russia", because he's a nob.

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I jumped out of the car to pick something up from the house the other week and when I came back my 3 year old lad was dangling his  member over the edge of the car window and pissing on to the street whilst his sister was laughing her head off. He’s also fiercely independent and will sneak off to poo and wipe himself with similar results to Matrix’s lad. 
 

He’s also taken to stripping off and shouting “It’s widgey time”. He also stated singing “There’s some ho’s in this house” just before he started school the other week but luckily I’ve curbed it to “Lovely ladies in this house”. I’m sick of people saying they know where he gets this shit from and looking at me as they say it. I blame Mr Tumble.

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18 hours ago, John Matrix said:

This is the only place I could share this sort of anecdote, and why I pray no one in my personal life ever discovers this account.

A little insight into parenting no one ever wants to give you, cos their kids are fucking perfect..

Friday night, my six year old wakes up in the night from a coughing fit, and despite being, and I swear, three foot from the toilet doors, proceeded to vomit a cocktail of hot chocolate and mince all over the landing floor, destroying skirting boards and doors as it ricochet everywhere upon contact with the laminate.

Saturday afternoon, my four year old emerged from the toilet caked in shit up to his forearms after attempting to wipe his own bottom.  He’d snuck upstairs and not told anyone he needed a poo.  The clean up operation was like nothing ever before it.  The fingernails... my lord.

Saturday evening, his “just dangle his pish over the rim” technique came back to haunt us, and our bathroom was transformed into one big piss filled shallow end.

This morning, my two year old shat.  I knew he’d shat, but it was before 7am and so I promised myself that I’d change him when the alarm went off, but alas, he saw to it that I’d never see that lie in, by serving me up two scoops of mother nature’s finest, reaching into his drawers for a right good root around.  Honestly, I’m laid in the same room as I type getting him off to sleep and despite a comprehensive search I can’t be sure there’s not a smear somewhere I’ve missed.

This afternoon, we get an encore from the four year old and yet another massive piss reserved for the floor tiles and then, to top it all off...

I was sat in the chair resting my eyes a couple of hours ago, when my two year old, who’s teething hard right now and has a thing for gnawing on my trackie drawstrings, misjudged things somewhat and took a massive bite of my foreskin.  It’s still tender.

Sorry mate, thats awful, but I'm howling reading this. Especially the punchline.

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