Quantum Parenting. The End?

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The End?

Well, I think that’s about enough for now, 135 will probably arrive at some point and to be honest other things in my somewhat butterfly brain are clamouring for attention.

So, why have I written this thing?

If I'm honest I'm not really sure. It sorta started with a few random jottings in my site diary and went from there. I spend my time wandering around various building sites and fields and keep a wee yellow book stuck in my pocket that's meant to be full of site observations but usually ends up half full of odd nonsense, fragments of bad poetry and doodles. From the initial jottings, this seems to have finished off as a loose collection of strange musings, random family reminiscences and odd little steaming piles of brain dump (not on a small step). Thankfully brain dumps don't smell, well at least not to the person who produced them anyway.

Is this literature? Probably not.

Is it writing? Maybe.

I think perhaps it's merely parenting on a quantum level; capable of many different states and answers often pertaining to the same question. And, due to the fact it involves kids, the resultant answers are capable of producing a variety of results, some of which end up leaving you, as a parent, speechless; whether it be in admiration, shock, or just because you're trying not to laugh.

I am a Dad: imperfect, unfashionable, grumpy, old, tired, worried, good at some things, bad at others, occasionally with tender testes and still trying to work out whether I want to be a fireman, a pilot or someone who tests Lego for a living. Hell, perhaps I’ll try writing.

Facial hair confuses babies, and I confuse myself, my kids and my wife. My kids do a variety of things. They confuse me, make me proud, scare the hell out of me and often make me laugh. I can live with that; I get to play with Lego and stuff.

It's not all bad, although given that it’s quantum it might be bad somewhere.

Some other version of me can have that reality =]

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