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!