New Year, Simply Marty!
By Joe Barker
It's January, which means time for New Year's resolutions. Hurrah! I love a good resolution: a chance to reset and refresh. In the past I would have seen this as an opportunity to set unrealistic goals in the expectation that within weeks I'd be the fit, healthy, dynamic person I dreamt of being. This year, however, is different; I've finally realized that I'm pretty perfect just the way I am. So rather than pointlessly trying to improve upon perfection, I'm going to get my resolution fix by providing helpful goals and constructive criticism for my wife and son. What could go wrong?
Apparently, after a quick, frank and relatively painless conversation, quite a lot could go wrong, so I'll just be writing resolutions for Martin since he isn't yet old enough to have frank conversations. At this stage I've been advised that if I'm claiming that I'm perfect, a view very few people have been prepared to concede, then firstly, my wife, who is obviously better than me, must also be perfect, and secondly, I clearly have a very poor understanding of the word “perfect”. I've realized the wisdom of this advice and am grateful to everyone who contributed to the list: “Ways Joe's wife is better than him.” Please stop now.
Resolution 1: Ban the bite!
We start with a new entry that has really shot up in my priorities in the last few days. Stop biting daddy! Ideally don't bite anyone, but for now, prioritize not biting me. Others may enjoy this experience, but I really don't like it. If you absolutely have to bite someone, bite mummy or your nanny or the dog or passing strangers—just please stop biting me. (By the way, suggesting my son bite other people rather than me was just one item on the aforementioned list.)
Martin did a bit of biting when he was younger, but I thought he'd stopped. Turns out he was just lulling me into a false sense of security, growing more teeth, and working on his jaw strength. Now I will, all unsuspecting, welcome him with open arms as he asks for a cuddle. “Aww, how sweet,” I'll think. “Perhaps this whole parenthood thing isn't so awful after all.” Then suddenly there’ll be a searing pain in my arm as he clamps his teeth down, giving every impression of never intending to let go. Perhaps he's part terrier or crocodile? I must ask my wife if that's possible. So resolution 1: don't bite daddy. I guess that should be don't bite anyone, but to be honest, at the moment everyone else can take their chances.
Resolution 2: Walk the walk!
Learn to walk. Marty is two and loves running, so when I say learn to walk, I don't mean those first, heartbreakingly intense, tottering steps that we'll always cherish the memory of. No, what I mean is stop being so lazy and making daddy carry you everywhere. You're 16 kg and daddy is a runner who has never been to a gym and looks at upper body muscles as useless weight. With the constant lifting there is a risk I might develop actual muscle definition, or, more probably, a hernia.
I think this might have been my fault; when Marty was younger and lighter, it was cute balancing him on my shoulders and pretending to be a horse. Now though I spend every walk dodging Marty as he backs into me insisting that he needs picking up. Once he's up, the challenge isn't over. If I don't go fast enough he starts bouncing on my shoulders. When that gets boring, he’ll lean sideways or backwards with a total disregard for my neck or his personal safety. Finally, and most fun of all, he can pull daddy's hair, steal my glasses, and use my head as a drum. At least so far he’s resisted biting my ears, but it's surely just a matter of time.
So please learn to walk independently, sit in your stroller, or, as it has just occurred to me, get someone else to carry you. Yes, mummy or your nanny or the dog or even passing strangers should carry you! In fact, if you get someone else to carry you, you can even bite them if you like... 
Resolution 3: Down with indecisiveness!
Make up your mind! I know decisions are hard; indecision is very much a part of daddy's life. I realize watching me struggle to order from a menu, choose a Netflix series, or plan a day out might be why you also struggle to make up your mind, but once you've made a decision, could you stick to it, please?
Currently my life is a fairground ride of change and uncertainty. “Go upstairs,” Marty instructs. It seems reasonable; bouncing on the bed is fun, and we can read books and visit mummy in her office. “Good decision,” I say. “Just let me get—” and then I'm abruptly cut off by a cry of “Go outside!”. “OK, let's find—” and the plan is changed again. “Make a cake!” No sooner have I got out the ingredients and pans than I realize I've lost my sous-chef. Judging from the thumping noises above, he's found mummy and gone to jump on the bed. It's exhausting following Marty’s constant changes of plan. So for resolution 3, Marty please, let's decide on something and then see it through to the end, or at least spend a few minutes on it.
Resolution 4: Let them eat cake (or not)!
Stop baking so many cakes. Now, I love baking cakes with Marty. The whole process is messy fun with a delicious cakey reward at the end. His banana peeling and mashing is slowly improving, and his egg breaking is a thing of beauty: there’s barely any shell in the batter and only some of the egg goes on the floor. I can just about weigh out the sugar and butter quicker than he can eat them, although it is a rare day's baking that doesn't leave teeth marks in the butter. I certainly don't mind that we liberally coat the kitchen with flour, and his vigor with the cinnamon shaker is a joy to behold.
While the house fills with the smell of fresh baking, we get to wash the dishes—water play with purpose. My only concern is whether we’ll get everything clean before flooding the kitchen. So far, so good, but it’s been close a couple of times. Whoever says that the water should stay in the sink clearly doesn’t know how to really enjoy their dishwashing.
However, every silver lining has a cloud, and the cake-baking cloud is that we then have cake in the house. Now, for Martin this isn't a problem: he has loving parents who ignore his pleading and limit, to some degree, his cake intake. For mummy and daddy though, there is no such benevolent oversight; our consumption is controlled only by our own feeble self-discipline. Since we have all the willpower of dilettante gnats, this means we eat a lot of cake. This is not good for our waistlines or blood sugar levels. So, Marty, in the interest of your parents' continued good health, you need to bake fewer cakes.
Resolution 5: A change is as good as … Marty!
Finally, and most importantly, although it rather invalidates the rest of this article, whatever you do, don't change. We love our energetic, adventurous little boy, with his love of books and building sites. His little smiles and kisses. His running and jumping, biking and dancing. Keep that joie de vivre and keep bringing that love and happiness into our lives. That should be your only resolution.
Happy New Year.
Photos courtesy of the author; title image by Kana Wakaiki.
About the Author
Having enjoyed taking his son to BAMBI playgroups over the past months, Joe is excited to volunteer with BAMBI. He and his wife moved to Thailand from the UK in 2018. In 2021 they were delighted to be joined by their son, Martin. They love exploring Thailand as a family, especially anywhere with a playground or sand