It'll be time soon to start stocking up on the "pregnancy for dads" books, I guess.
I've already noted some websites on this subject helpfully published this week in the Sunday Times (for me? How kind...) and I bet the shelves of Books etc. are groaning under the weight of various tomes designed to help us pending dads (reluctant or otherwise) make the most of the whole experience.
Who knows? At the end of all this I might write one myself, using all this blog piffle as a basis. Or not, as the case may be.
The missus' parents now know and are understandably delighted about it, especially the father-in-law, who had probably given up hope of grandchildren, so emphatic have we been about not procreating in the past.
My folks get the news next, which will be an interesting experience given that my most recent communications on the subject included an adamant assertation along the "over my dead body" lines...
Soon the news will have to get out to the wider masses. Some must already suspect, and the missus' post-Christmas detox ruse is really only good for January, after which it's going to look pretty bloody odd!
I'll be quite glad when it's all in the public domain, to be honest. A bit of good news amid the usual doom and gloom of a London winter.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
The philosophical challenge...
Most of the hand-wringing displayed on here so far will be familiar to anyone who has entered the wacky world of prospective parenthood.
I have an additional philosophical challenge to overcome.
You see, I strongly believe that the human race is rotten to the core, and that this planet would be vastly improved by our complete removal from it. If you passed me a button that could wipe us all out I'd push it without a second's hesitation.
That's quite a tough world view to square with the fact that I've now become party to the human race's continuing survival!
I look on in despair at our obsession with TV freak shows, at the total lack of civility that exists in the city where I live, at the sheer evil of those four pointless, verminous scumbags sentenced yesterday for that so-called 'happy slapping' murder (for murder it was, forget that manslaughter nonsense).
I always managed to stay on top of it all by thinking that I would do my best to enjoy my life as the world around me deteriorated, then I'd shuffle off this mortal coil before things really went to hell in a handcart.
Now I'm potentially handing on the poisoned chalice to an offspring facing God knows what as a future in our polluted, intolerant, violent and hateful world.
Oh boy....
Something a bit more lighthearted next time round, I promise!
I have an additional philosophical challenge to overcome.
You see, I strongly believe that the human race is rotten to the core, and that this planet would be vastly improved by our complete removal from it. If you passed me a button that could wipe us all out I'd push it without a second's hesitation.
That's quite a tough world view to square with the fact that I've now become party to the human race's continuing survival!
I look on in despair at our obsession with TV freak shows, at the total lack of civility that exists in the city where I live, at the sheer evil of those four pointless, verminous scumbags sentenced yesterday for that so-called 'happy slapping' murder (for murder it was, forget that manslaughter nonsense).
I always managed to stay on top of it all by thinking that I would do my best to enjoy my life as the world around me deteriorated, then I'd shuffle off this mortal coil before things really went to hell in a handcart.
Now I'm potentially handing on the poisoned chalice to an offspring facing God knows what as a future in our polluted, intolerant, violent and hateful world.
Oh boy....
Something a bit more lighthearted next time round, I promise!
Monday, January 23, 2006
FOREVERFOREVERFOREVERFOREVER...
Just had the first sleepless "Oh My God" night.
Sudden realisation that this really is forever, better or worse. We visit our friends and relatives and briefly touch their children's lives, noting how they've grown, etc. But in a few months' time we're going to have another human being dropped slap bang into our lives. Like every hour, every day. For whom we're 100% responsible.... most likely until the day we die.
Bloody hell.
Can I go back to being worried about whether someone is going to bash into/steal my car, or whether my football team are going to go up this year, instead please?
P.S.
By the way, I should point out that this blog is in no way connected to the mayfly-brief, two-post effort "Reluctant Dad" which also appears on this site. He didn't sound a happy chappy - maybe he drowned in his own bile before being able to post further....
Always make sure you put a "the" in the title to get my nonsense.
Sudden realisation that this really is forever, better or worse. We visit our friends and relatives and briefly touch their children's lives, noting how they've grown, etc. But in a few months' time we're going to have another human being dropped slap bang into our lives. Like every hour, every day. For whom we're 100% responsible.... most likely until the day we die.
Bloody hell.
Can I go back to being worried about whether someone is going to bash into/steal my car, or whether my football team are going to go up this year, instead please?
P.S.
By the way, I should point out that this blog is in no way connected to the mayfly-brief, two-post effort "Reluctant Dad" which also appears on this site. He didn't sound a happy chappy - maybe he drowned in his own bile before being able to post further....
Always make sure you put a "the" in the title to get my nonsense.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
First time for everything....
I did something today that I've never done before. I played with a small child and actually enjoyed it.
Just a brief game not dissimilar to pat-a-cakes with our friend's one-year-old (she was clearly fascinated by my hands being about a hundred times bigger than hers) but a real breakthrough in many ways.
I'd previously found the idea of interacting with small children about as tempting as frying my own feet. Even my niece and nephew, bless 'em, had to grow up into fully-fledged, talking, ball-playing youngsters before I got remotely interested.
So this is a change - proper eye-contact, touchy-feely interaction. And not ghastly, as it happens...
In other news, the missus says I've never been so nice to her as in the days since the fateful morning the lines turned pink. Although given that she expected me to run away I guess this is nothing to feel too smug about.
Truth is, I do feel kind of closer to her right now. This is no small event we're coming to terms with and it's only right and proper that of the two ways it could have driven us, we've ended up on the positive path.
There'll be tears and trouble ahead, for sure, so we'd better enjoy this while it lasts!
Just a brief game not dissimilar to pat-a-cakes with our friend's one-year-old (she was clearly fascinated by my hands being about a hundred times bigger than hers) but a real breakthrough in many ways.
I'd previously found the idea of interacting with small children about as tempting as frying my own feet. Even my niece and nephew, bless 'em, had to grow up into fully-fledged, talking, ball-playing youngsters before I got remotely interested.
So this is a change - proper eye-contact, touchy-feely interaction. And not ghastly, as it happens...
In other news, the missus says I've never been so nice to her as in the days since the fateful morning the lines turned pink. Although given that she expected me to run away I guess this is nothing to feel too smug about.
Truth is, I do feel kind of closer to her right now. This is no small event we're coming to terms with and it's only right and proper that of the two ways it could have driven us, we've ended up on the positive path.
There'll be tears and trouble ahead, for sure, so we'd better enjoy this while it lasts!
Saturday, January 21, 2006
The pros and cons...
OK, the good points about parenthood:
1. Taking the sprog in its pushchair for a stroll on Hampstead Heath
2. Finally getting the relatives off my back... no more sideways looks and plaintive demands because we've got no kids
3. Er....can't think of any more at the moment...
And the bad points:
1. Puke and shit
2. Sleepless nights
3. Ear-splitting crying for no reason whatsoever
4. Post-natal depression
5. Poverty
6. Severely curtailed social life
7. The risk of creating an ASBO-magnet troublemaker
8. It might choose to support Arsenal
Actually I better stop there, until I started this post I was beginning to come round to the idea of parenthood....
1. Taking the sprog in its pushchair for a stroll on Hampstead Heath
2. Finally getting the relatives off my back... no more sideways looks and plaintive demands because we've got no kids
3. Er....can't think of any more at the moment...
And the bad points:
1. Puke and shit
2. Sleepless nights
3. Ear-splitting crying for no reason whatsoever
4. Post-natal depression
5. Poverty
6. Severely curtailed social life
7. The risk of creating an ASBO-magnet troublemaker
8. It might choose to support Arsenal
Actually I better stop there, until I started this post I was beginning to come round to the idea of parenthood....
Friday, January 20, 2006
Shock and disbelief...
I've had one or two excitements in my otherwise average life.
Man Utd's last-gasp victory in the European Cup in 1999 was pretty special. I can also remember winning a £100 fruit machine jackpot as a young lad, especially that little heart skip as the last treble-bar came in.
But nothing prepares you for discovering that you're going to be a dad, especially when you're not, to use that terminally annoying phrase, "trying for a baby" in the first place.
Bloody hell. My life is never going to be the same.
I'm still at the point where I'm struggling to believe it's true, even though I know it is.
And you know what? I really don't mind. I thought I might hurl myself off the nearest high building if such news was ever presented before me. The missus clearly felt the same becaue it took her several days to pluck up the courage to take the test, fearing my reaction might not be entirely positive...
But what can you do? I believe strongly in fate, and that you must play the hand that life deals you. There's absolutely no question of getting rid of it - I'm no bible-bashing, pro-life hickster but I have a moral code that says: "you made the bed, you gotta lie in it".
That said, my head's a whirl. In a day or two I'll rationalise it, I guess....
Man Utd's last-gasp victory in the European Cup in 1999 was pretty special. I can also remember winning a £100 fruit machine jackpot as a young lad, especially that little heart skip as the last treble-bar came in.
But nothing prepares you for discovering that you're going to be a dad, especially when you're not, to use that terminally annoying phrase, "trying for a baby" in the first place.
Bloody hell. My life is never going to be the same.
I'm still at the point where I'm struggling to believe it's true, even though I know it is.
And you know what? I really don't mind. I thought I might hurl myself off the nearest high building if such news was ever presented before me. The missus clearly felt the same becaue it took her several days to pluck up the courage to take the test, fearing my reaction might not be entirely positive...
But what can you do? I believe strongly in fate, and that you must play the hand that life deals you. There's absolutely no question of getting rid of it - I'm no bible-bashing, pro-life hickster but I have a moral code that says: "you made the bed, you gotta lie in it".
That said, my head's a whirl. In a day or two I'll rationalise it, I guess....
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Like finding out you've won the pools....
...when you hadn't realised you'd filled the coupon in.
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when the missus brought back the pregnancy tester with the telltale pink lines there for all to see. Must be a mistake, I thought, how accurate are those things?
A quick look at the instructions revealed "can sometimes say you aren't when you are, but NEVER that you are when you aren't". Oh well, I guess that clears that one up then...
I should explain. I've never wanted to have kids, not ever, not for a second in all my years. The missus knew that when we married and she felt the same. As the years rolled by she came round to the idea, but I didn't. It was indeed a source of much strife before an accommodation (well, actually me getting my way entirely) was reached.
We didn't exactly take care between the sheets, but we weren't that careless either. We basically weren't "trying for a baby" - a phrase that still makes me want to look skywards and furrow my brow.
Friends our age who really wanted kids had either been forced to basically give up after repeated failures or resorted to crazy measures to conceive. And I'm talking about temeprature testing to find the optimal moment of ovulation and all that shit. Jesus, imagine as a bloke having to perform under those "one hit" conditions - like Edward Fox in bloody Day of the Jackal.
But not us, oh no! No messing about, bop bop bop! Even when we didn't want to....
So there you go. The next entry will be about dealing with the shock and consternation. I intend this blog to be an honest, warts and all record of what promises to be an extraordinary year. Happy reading!
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when the missus brought back the pregnancy tester with the telltale pink lines there for all to see. Must be a mistake, I thought, how accurate are those things?
A quick look at the instructions revealed "can sometimes say you aren't when you are, but NEVER that you are when you aren't". Oh well, I guess that clears that one up then...
I should explain. I've never wanted to have kids, not ever, not for a second in all my years. The missus knew that when we married and she felt the same. As the years rolled by she came round to the idea, but I didn't. It was indeed a source of much strife before an accommodation (well, actually me getting my way entirely) was reached.
We didn't exactly take care between the sheets, but we weren't that careless either. We basically weren't "trying for a baby" - a phrase that still makes me want to look skywards and furrow my brow.
Friends our age who really wanted kids had either been forced to basically give up after repeated failures or resorted to crazy measures to conceive. And I'm talking about temeprature testing to find the optimal moment of ovulation and all that shit. Jesus, imagine as a bloke having to perform under those "one hit" conditions - like Edward Fox in bloody Day of the Jackal.
But not us, oh no! No messing about, bop bop bop! Even when we didn't want to....
So there you go. The next entry will be about dealing with the shock and consternation. I intend this blog to be an honest, warts and all record of what promises to be an extraordinary year. Happy reading!
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