Went to a crap concert on the South Bank last night....well not crap so much as just not my thing- we expected experimental jazz and we got something akin to incidental music from a BBC Sunday evening drama of the 1980s.
Anyway, that's not the point. The point, such as it is, was that my gig-going friend and myself were chatting in the bar having refused to go back in for the second half of the show and we started making tentative plans for the missus and I to see my friend and his wife in their new house in the country.
I finished the conversation with "Well we'd better get this sorted while we can, becasue it'll be a right pain in the arse to venture down to you come September..." This is especially apposite to my friend and his wife who are child-free and, it's fair to say, have been something of a role model couple to us in living a lifestyle full of art, culture, music and campaigning politics.
And at that point I had a moment of realisation... my life in its present form really is going to end soon. It's not hit me that much so far because the idea of being a dad is still so hypothetical. We're no longer going to be able to live our lives to our own heart's desire, going anywhere will require intricate planning and pin-sharp project management... and time to ourselves? Fuhgeddaboudit!
Regular gig-going? You can forget that too, buster. Disappearing off for evenings of fun and frolics while the missus grapples with dirty nappies to the soundtrack of ear-splitting crying is likely to make me about as popular as a pork pie at a Bar Mitzvah.
Oh well, I've had a spectacularly good innings. For Christ's sake I'm almost 40! What I haven't managed to do by now I'll probably never be able to afford anyway, sprog or no sprog....
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
All quiet...
Been a bit quiet on the old nipper front lately. I guess these periods of nothing much happening are all part of the process. Missus isn't even getting much fatter, at least not noticeably.
Going slightly off-topic, I'm feeling quite pleased with myself at completing a half marathon in an OK time. Given that in my school days I once failed to finish a 400m race due to fatigue, I reckon that represents good progress.
My utter lack of sporting skill is bested only by the missus, who lacks neither the basic hand/eye co-ordination to be a hacker at tennis nor the concentration to play golf. Not a good omen for our offspring if it happens to be a boy - it's all but certain to be a ginger and to be crap at sports as well just about guarnatees exclusion from any "cool clubs" within the playground jungle.
Oh well, there's always the Dungeons and Dragons society I suppose....
Going slightly off-topic, I'm feeling quite pleased with myself at completing a half marathon in an OK time. Given that in my school days I once failed to finish a 400m race due to fatigue, I reckon that represents good progress.
My utter lack of sporting skill is bested only by the missus, who lacks neither the basic hand/eye co-ordination to be a hacker at tennis nor the concentration to play golf. Not a good omen for our offspring if it happens to be a boy - it's all but certain to be a ginger and to be crap at sports as well just about guarnatees exclusion from any "cool clubs" within the playground jungle.
Oh well, there's always the Dungeons and Dragons society I suppose....
Monday, March 06, 2006
No God only religion
It's not (just) a rather contrived way to get a Spiritualized song title into the headline bar, there is a real purpose behind this post as well, because we've been discussing the issue of Christening, etc.
I must admit that I was keen from the outset to do this, although I expected a degree of resistance from the missus, who is an atheist, and I would have let her hold sway should that have been the case.
But no, she seems happy to go along with it, reasoning quite fairly that it can make its own mind up about these matters in due course, but that baptism as an adult is a bit embarrassing to all concerned, so why not at least get that part done early doors.
There are several spin-offs to this:
1) It gets the in-laws together for the first time since the wedding, always good for a giggle
2) It's an excuse to get the boys together to "wet the baby's head"
3) We get to nominate God-parentage, which, although it's a ceremonial role is nonetheless a nice thing to bestow on someone.
I've no idea how to go about sorting any of this out, but I'm sure that, just like with every other minutiae of child rearing, there will be no shortage of help and avice from the world of publishing....
I must admit that I was keen from the outset to do this, although I expected a degree of resistance from the missus, who is an atheist, and I would have let her hold sway should that have been the case.
But no, she seems happy to go along with it, reasoning quite fairly that it can make its own mind up about these matters in due course, but that baptism as an adult is a bit embarrassing to all concerned, so why not at least get that part done early doors.
There are several spin-offs to this:
1) It gets the in-laws together for the first time since the wedding, always good for a giggle
2) It's an excuse to get the boys together to "wet the baby's head"
3) We get to nominate God-parentage, which, although it's a ceremonial role is nonetheless a nice thing to bestow on someone.
I've no idea how to go about sorting any of this out, but I'm sure that, just like with every other minutiae of child rearing, there will be no shortage of help and avice from the world of publishing....
Thursday, March 02, 2006
And now, the tears subside....
...but thank God they're tears of joy and relief!
Never, ever in my whole life have I undergone anything as butt-clenchingly stressful as the last week. But finally we've got the 'all clear'...or at least as all clear as these things can be.
In fact the doc used the very words "as good as it could be" about our test result, with the risk of Down's or similar nasties dropping to a much more comfortable 2,400 to 1. At last the benefits of the missus' healthy lifestyle bear fruit!!
I've only just stopped shaking enough to be able type properly (I still wouldn't fancy my chances of holding a cup of coffee without it ending up in my lap) and there'll be more tears yet before bedtime, to be sure.
God knows what the poor buggers who were going into the clinic thought as they passed us leaving both in floods of tears - if I'd have been them I'd have turned tail and fled...if only I could have actually spoken words at that point I've have told them it was tears of joy not pain, but my mouth was refusing to issue anything more than a pathetic whimper by then.
I think I'm going to start a campaign to ban hospitals from revealing these ridiculous generalised odds of problems occurring until they've actually done the proper bloody tests! Keep it to yourselves, you fuckers, you've no idea of the heartache you've caused!
So now we call tell everyone the good news, which will be a complete relief. Some will be very surprised indeed, especially anyone who has listened to me talking on this subject before.
And we can start to think properly about the challenges ahead, which to be honest fill me with dread right now. However, all being well there's no turning back, we're at the top of the rollercoaster and just about to pass that point where you pick up speed and your stomach starts to move skywards.
Hold tight!
Never, ever in my whole life have I undergone anything as butt-clenchingly stressful as the last week. But finally we've got the 'all clear'...or at least as all clear as these things can be.
In fact the doc used the very words "as good as it could be" about our test result, with the risk of Down's or similar nasties dropping to a much more comfortable 2,400 to 1. At last the benefits of the missus' healthy lifestyle bear fruit!!
I've only just stopped shaking enough to be able type properly (I still wouldn't fancy my chances of holding a cup of coffee without it ending up in my lap) and there'll be more tears yet before bedtime, to be sure.
God knows what the poor buggers who were going into the clinic thought as they passed us leaving both in floods of tears - if I'd have been them I'd have turned tail and fled...if only I could have actually spoken words at that point I've have told them it was tears of joy not pain, but my mouth was refusing to issue anything more than a pathetic whimper by then.
I think I'm going to start a campaign to ban hospitals from revealing these ridiculous generalised odds of problems occurring until they've actually done the proper bloody tests! Keep it to yourselves, you fuckers, you've no idea of the heartache you've caused!
So now we call tell everyone the good news, which will be a complete relief. Some will be very surprised indeed, especially anyone who has listened to me talking on this subject before.
And we can start to think properly about the challenges ahead, which to be honest fill me with dread right now. However, all being well there's no turning back, we're at the top of the rollercoaster and just about to pass that point where you pick up speed and your stomach starts to move skywards.
Hold tight!
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Tomorrow never knows....
Well, just one day to go before the big test.
The shock of our last visit to the hospital has given way to a degree of resignation (after all, there's nothing I can do) coupled with some optimism after hearing a number of stories from people who've been through this and found their chances of dodging the bullet significantly improved after the tests.
By the way, if I ever I wanted to demonstrate my lack of knowledge in these matters I managed it quite easily in my last post. I've discovered that the syndrome in question is not "Downs", as in the former Norwich City defensive stalwart Greg Downs, but is in fact "Down's". Apologies to any pedants out there.
I haven't been able to get my mind away from this situation all week. I can't bear to look at the scan photograph of the foetus they gave us at the hospital, in case it tempts fate. I've even been ill, and I am never, ever ill.
For someone who has previously viewed children as a royal pain in the arse to be avoided at all costs these are strange times indeed...
Fingers crossed.
The shock of our last visit to the hospital has given way to a degree of resignation (after all, there's nothing I can do) coupled with some optimism after hearing a number of stories from people who've been through this and found their chances of dodging the bullet significantly improved after the tests.
By the way, if I ever I wanted to demonstrate my lack of knowledge in these matters I managed it quite easily in my last post. I've discovered that the syndrome in question is not "Downs", as in the former Norwich City defensive stalwart Greg Downs, but is in fact "Down's". Apologies to any pedants out there.
I haven't been able to get my mind away from this situation all week. I can't bear to look at the scan photograph of the foetus they gave us at the hospital, in case it tempts fate. I've even been ill, and I am never, ever ill.
For someone who has previously viewed children as a royal pain in the arse to be avoided at all costs these are strange times indeed...
Fingers crossed.
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