Music to my ears…

28 02 2012

Gutted.

I missed my wife’s midwife appointment this morning due to work.

While she was getting the latest news, I was learning “How to run a brainstorm.”

It was the first midwife appointment I’d missed.

I suppose lots of Dads to be don’t get the chance to go to even one so I’m quite lucky in that respect.

But that did not stop me feeling a bit down about not being there.

So it was with great delight that I received the following email:

“Subject: Hello Daddy

Sorry you couldn’t be at the appointment but here I am! Mummy says I’m very naughty because I’m back to back. Xx”

To cap it off there was an attachment.

CLICKY.

I’ll never grow tired of that sound.

And in four weeks I’ll get to listen to the heartbeat directly.

Then I’ll run a workshop with my wife to discuss the barriers to our baby’s success whilst we discuss if he was a car, what would he be and why?





Nesting…

23 02 2012

I like the odd nature program now and again.

Makes you feel superior.

Most of the time.

I’d never thought about learning about how to make a nest.

Why would I?!

Foraging for twigs and fluff, making a little home to keep your new-born.

But then it twigged (sorry).

The simple process of tidying the house, cleaning the nursery to be, painting, decorating with a theme is our own version of nesting.

Fairly obvious when you think about it.

So it’s been with enthusiasm that I’ve taken to the task of ‘creating’ the nursery.

I’m no Michelangelo but I’ve had a lot of fun painting it so far.

It’s also a small way to contribute to the struggles my wife is going through.

She has also contributed mind you as you’d expect a heavily pregnant woman to.

“No, the paint is wrong.”

“You missed a bit.”

“Shouldn’t you paint the ceiling first.”

I’m looking forward to showing Little Pea his room when he moves in.

Then spending the next however long wiping poo and wee off the walls.

Master at work





My very own D-Day…

14 02 2012

6 June 1944 saw the D-Day landings in Normandy.

An extraordinary movement of men venturing into the unknown.

I will be partaking in my very own D-Day soon.

25th March 2012.

Daddy-Day.

In theory it’s the day that my life will change forever.

And will be remembered (if I’m a good Dad) every year.

I still have six weeks to prepare for this momentous occasion give or take a week.

And the rest of my life to mess it up.

But I’m sure that with a little military-like precision planning, the outcome will be one to celebrate.





A favourite childhood game ruined in one foul swoop…

2 02 2012

Remember pass the parcel?

A game I’m sure that will sadly be resigned to the toy box in the sky because you can’t play it online.

The feeling of anticipation and happiness in getting the present and winning a random penny sweet  was awesome.

So it was with a great deal of excitement that at my latest NCT class that our ‘host’ pulled out a wrapped parcel and turned the music on.

The present made it’s way round.

Lady Gaga told us about her bad romance.

And then the music stopped.

The present fell in one chap’s lap and I could tell he was looking forward to ripping it open.

Letting the inner child loose (no, there no early birth) he ripped away at the first layer…

… and discovered a nappy.

Ah-hah! I thought they were giving away nappies.

Nope.

The lady running the class said open up the nappy.

His look of innocence and happiness changed to one of shock and horror as he opened the nappy to reveal its contents.

Almost as if he was holding an ancient scroll, he turned it around to present a rather black and substantial looking skid.

Meconium.

Like Superman facing Lex Luthor with his necklace of Kryptonite, I cowered into the back of my seat.

Except this one was actually black treacle much to my relief as I knew the parcel would come to me at some point.

More layers to come.

More nappies.

Green Pesto…

Peanut butter…

Water (lucky git) …

Lots of peanut butter…

My turn

Blood.

Great.

I’m not going to play pass the parcel ever again.

Don't open the box I beg you.