...and a big fella too!

Given that his father is one of the few people who can look Peter Crouch squarely in the eye, it's no surprise that Junior is a bit on the big side at this early stage of his life.

Well, no surprise to us, but plenty it seems to the NHS, who've dragged the missus in for diabetes tests as a result of seeing the rather large figure thrashing about inside her.

Needless to say, nothing's come up, so we can tick that particular problem off the list (and add another few quid to the NHS deficit - not our fault, guv).

The missus is ma-hooosive now though, even with another two-and-a-bit months to go. It's looking increasingly like an induced early arrival or Caesarian is going to be the order of the day - otherwise he'll be too big for the crib, let alone any of the (few) items of clothing we've already bought! Still, I've got a few spare t-shirts in the cupboard - some of the now shrunk-in-the-wash gig shirts may well be a perfect fit, although I guess the Foetus Interruptus one may have to stay where it is...

The missus' cousin has just had a baby boy, which is a good thing in terms of sharing experiences and also provides an occasional playmate on our visits there, which may well become more regular in future, and no bad thing too.

Is it really so long....

...since my last post? Time really does seem to zip by, especially with the World Cup as a big distraction.

We went to visit the maternity ward and labour rooms of our local hospital at the weekend, along with just about all of north London's expectant parents it seemed. As we packed, sweating, into one of the labour rooms I started to doubt the wisdom of this venture - it didn't tell me anything I din't know already ("there's the bed, there are the scales, that's a window, etc etc...") but the blood-curdling screams issuing from the other rooms certainly unsettled all the first-time mums and dads, ourselves included.

What it did confim is that this part of the process really isn't going to be a lot of fun. While I'm quite happy to sit around keeping the missus company in the interminably dull early stages, I don't want to be there when it all goes off anyway - the only piece of advice my dad has been moved to give me so far is to stay away from the business end of labour, so has a friend who has recently been through the experience. All the bullshit and "new man" machismo you read in the papers is just that, in my opinion.

Even the missus is doubtful that she wants me there when it really gets messy and unpleasant, and fair enough. I guess it'll all be decided on the day, but it's been a source of tension so far, so thanks for that to all the fucking blokes who can't wait to discuss the issue in the media - just leave us alone will you!