Magazine article (Published October 2013)

Magazine article (Published October 2013)

AFTER the arrival of his nine-month-old daughter John wanted to share his news with his friends over the internet – unable to share photos he began writing about his and his wife’s experiences as new parents. Here is a sample of what’s been happening.

Monday

Well this week is much like last week...the learning just keeps on keeping on.
I suppose most of the groundwork has happened. Little Person (LP) gets up about 6.30am, enjoys some time on the toilet then takes a light breakfast of Actimil followed by porridge and then fruit of the day.

A period of frantic play ensues leading to a 'Nana Nap'. This is pretty much repeated throughout the day until its rubber duck play time in the bath.

duck time and a wee rub down with a damp chamois and then into the arms of sweet Morphious.

Despite this relatively organized and tranquil lifestyle the same small person finds the time to rain terror and chaos on the other, not so little inhabitants of the household causing every room (save for her own, I might add) to be rendered to a state of complete disarray. Child friendly toys become obstacles for adults and dogs to negotiate. Why are these weapons of mass destruction classified as safe for little people
Walking, sorry, hobbling from one end of the living room to the other is fraught with other dangers too.
Child gates (with audible click locks as recommended by a fellow survivor) are poised to castrate as the lock pin is set to scrotum height. Toys with motion sensors that wake up if you are unfortunate enough to brush past as you trip over a play mat or make contact with a singing kettle (the only toy name which actually hints at the dangers therein). It's like living in an oversized game of Operation. Bzzzzzzzz you are now sporting on less toenail. Bzzzzzzzzz you will never play the piano again. Bzzzzzzzz yup there goes the family jewels.

That said, Big people can always get their own back. We are presently capitalizing on a number of items which we lovingly call "baby prison". Ever wondered why Mothercare and Baby R Us are full of fold down travel cots? It's not because parents are happy to lug about 10.5 kg of tubular steel and ripstop nylon. It's not because parents want to exhaust their baggage allowance with Easyjet all in one go. It's not because they have a fear of precious little people finding untold bacterium to secret in untold orifices in the hotel supplied children's cot beds. Lets face it, holidays are a thing of the past anyway unless you are willing to sell a kidney, which I no longer have to spare as I lost it on the baby gate whilst bending down to attempt to retrieve a stray testicle. The REAL reason people buy travel cot is to imprison their small person. Oops, I meant to say keep the little angel safe whilst those charged with their care try to undertake regular tasks like consuming coffee, maintaining personal hygiene and scrapping embedded semi pureed foodstuffs which defy description off the carpet.

We like baby prison. We have a few. A Disney Bouncing one, the travel cot (yeah "travel" ha ha...you are not going to be going anywhere bye-bye!!) and the vibrating, reclining one favored by the lady of the house (YM). Little person likes the bouncy one. The travel cot isn't without charm either. It's a joy to watch her little face as she hunkers down in the corner with her miniature baseball mitt unsuccessfully playing catch a la Steve McQueen in The Great Escape. I want to say it's a good skill for her to master but really its one-upmanship and the only way I can kinda get back at LP for rejecting and in many respects ejecting my Haddock Mornay with Crushed New Potatoes. The lesson of the day is that you don't mess with the Chef.

 

 

 

 Tuesday

 

Much excitement in the household as LP reportedly said her first proper word that is if one chooses not to consider ‘fub’ and ‘da’ as actual words. Well as you know my money was on ‘dog’ or perhaps ‘dad’ being LP's first words.

 

Great sadness befell me as apparently, or should I say allegedly, ‘mummy’ was uttered by LP. This was further corroborated by our niece, who, with the absence of a lie detector, I shall have to believe. I do hope LP's fist sentence will be ‘Cousin Vicky’s a wee fibber’. I'm not bitter though.
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Wednesday

 

Yummy Mummy (YM) and LP attended their first Mother and Toddler Group this week. YM reported that she was chastised for referring to the group thus and not Parent and Toddler, which attempts, but does not succeed, in portraying a more inclusive environment. Anyway, YM and LP were made most welcome to the Chapter.

 

YM advised that LP had ‘been a wee rascal’ (I am sure that’s what she meant) and chucked baby porridge on YM's jeans which went unnoticed until LP was chauffeured to the group.

 

YM and LP were greeted by the Chapter Leader who was, of course, immaculate in a Mumsie kind of way. YM who was by now a tad frazzled and oat encrusted reported that the baby porridge was now semi hardened to resemble weeping pustules. Not the kind of look which ingratiates one to the other Chapter members. LP had a blast though and after a quick pit stop to fill up on Petits Filous and a change of Team GB Pampers nappy (on offer in ASDA), LP resembled a VERY young Gerri Haliwell. Despite a few initial hiccups, YM and LP will return although Boogie Babies is trying to sway YM's resolve with the offer of ‘yummy traybakes’.
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Thursday

 

There are things you should not Google and then there are things you really should not Google. Sometimes when you Google stuff, it is interesting to see how quickly Google fills in the search term for you.

Try typing in the phrase ‘baby poo’.
This week LP has produced a few ‘interesting’ efforts, so, rather than just idly talk about it, though some might say I usually do, investigation was called for. Not only is there a handy description on www.babycentre.co.uk/a551926/your-babys-poo-whats-normal-and-whats-not but, to my horror, pictures too. I have decided that all baby poo looks like Dahl. May I suggest the next time you think about placing an order at your local takeaway you give due consideration to your choice of side dish.
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Friday

 

 

We are currently capitalising on a number of items, which we lovingly call ‘baby prison’. Ever wondered why Mothercare and Babies R Us are full of fold down travel cots? It’s not because parents are happy to lug about 10.5 kg of tubular steel and ripstop nylon. It’s not because parents want to exhaust their baggage allowance with Easyjet all in one go. Let’s face it, holidays are a thing of the past anyway unless you are willing to sell a kidney, which I no longed have to spare as I lost it on the baby gate.

 

The REAL reason people buy travel cots is to imprison their small person. Oops, I meant to say keep the little angel safe whilst those charged with their care try to undertake regular tasks like consuming coffee, maintaining personal hygiene and scrapping embedded semi pureed foodstuffs, which defy description of the carpet.
We like baby prison. We have a few. A Disney bouncing one, the travel cot and the vibrating, reclining one favoured by YM. Little person likes the bouncy one. The travel cot isn't without charm either. It’s a joy to watch her little face as she hunkers down in the corner with her miniature baseball mitt unsuccessfully playing catch a la Steve McQueen in The Great Escape. I want to say it’s a good skill for her to master but really its one-upmanship and the only way I can get back at LP for rejecting and in many respects ejecting my Haddock Mornay with Crushed New Potatoes. The lesson of the day is that you don't mess with the Chef.

 

 

 

Saturday

Being older parents has presented us with a few concerns most of which were vanity based and to do with being thought of as grandparents to LP when she goes to school. Despite this wee concern, we are also content in the knowledge that LP will graduate from Medical School and become an eminent geriatrician thus being able to afford YM and I the best possible care in our twilight years...well that’s the plan anyway.
But with age comes great wisdom! Here are some of the tips we have gathered along the way I’d like to share with you.

 

1. Do not on any account make eye contact with a baby when they wake up in the middle of the night! It’s like Amphetamine to them. Just say nooo! Simply soothe them and pop the little angel horizontal, tiptoe backwards out of the room and hope you get another half hour’s kip.
2. Baby monitors allow for some weekend shenanigans. Sneak into LP's bedroom. Blow a raspberry. Await YM dashing to LP's aid with industrial strength nappies, gauntlets and coal tongs in anticipation of a code brown.
3. Be 'really bad' at changing/dressing/feeding LP for five out of seven days. This allows for two days to feel useful and slightly smug whilst avoiding most of the tasks, which involve either ‘business end’. Conversely, it also allows YM to feel really proud and able to show of her natural ability to do everything and more.

 

4. Despite my fraudulent claim of kackhandedness YM and I do divide some tasks based on ability. I remain in charge of cuisine whilst YM deals with couture. Now that LP is all but off manufactured baby food a whole new world of colour is open to her as jars of baby food seem to stain everything florescent orange. Therefore cuisine and couture share a somewhat symbiotic relationship.
5. Who would have thought that dummies come in different sizes. Its difficult not to compare and contrast, however I should warn against doing so in the baby isle of ASDA.
6. There should be a mathematical formula to measure the disproportionate relationship between ironing baby clothes, the size of baby clothes and how long they will stay clean, pressed or indeed in fashion. I know this as I spent 20 minutes ironing a dress for LP's evening engagement this weekend only to be informed by YM that the dress was too 'summery'.
7. My technique for fastening baby grow related press studs is thus: attach YM's iphone to the dog. 2. Chuck tennis ball for dog to fetch. 3. When dog, iphone and tennis ball go in one direction LP will follow. At this exact moment grab both sets of press studs, stretch baby grow over LP and fasten . Voila!
8. I am still working on ways of doing this in reverse rather than simply singing ‘hands up, baby hands up, give me your love, gimme your love babe etc..’by Ottawan. Let’s face it I'm just showing my age.
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Sunday

 

 

Important things that I have learned this week....really, really important things like....
1. If you squish a rubber duck on the bottom of a bath it will stick for a wee while and then pop up randomly.
2. Baby prison can be easily downgraded from category A to category C with the addition of a few hundred balls.
3. I have not yet acquired the skills to change nappies in the complex and indeed compact environment of a caravan.

 

4. Getting waved at for the first time by LP as I leave for work irritates my eyes.
5. Putting toys away at night is about as futile as wearing a clean t-shirt these days.
6. Nappy rash happens when little people are teething. This is something that anxious parents need to know. Of course I Googled the physiological reason for this but I remain disappointed that Wiki-How does not have a section on this very subject.
7. The analogy of 'family car' is purely a marketing ploy. Two adults, LP, the hound, buggy, Go Bag etc. makes an A Team transit van feel like a fiat 500...I should imagine.
8. Making food for LP is great. It encourages me to experiment and really consider how to season food without relying on salt and making things seem sweeter without adding sugar. Interesting stuff. The other aspect of this is presentation, which is fun for all.
9. YM can sing the female vocal for paradise by the dashboard light. A popular tune at bath time. Whilst on the subject of bath time songs. YM and I need to purchase some more animals as Old McDonald Had a Farm is getting rather limited.
10. LP cuddling into my chest is a wonderful experience...until I realise she just wants to rub her runny nose on me.

 

Despite this relatively organised and tranquil lifestyle the same small person finds the time to reign terror and chaos on the other, not so little inhabitants of the household causing every room (save for her own, I might add) to be rendered to a state of complete disarray. Child friendly toys become obstacles for adults and dogs to negotiate. Why are these weapons of mass destruction classified as safe for little people? I for one would rather take my chances with unpasteurised blue cheese.
Walking, sorry, hobbling from one end of the living room to the other is fraught with other dangers too.
Child gates (with audible click locks as recommended by a fellow survivor) are poised to castrate as the lock pin is set to scrotum height. Toys with motion sensors that wake up if you are unfortunate enough to brush past as you trip over a play mat or make contact with a singing kettle (the only toy name that actually hints at the dangers therein). It is like living in an oversized game of Operation. Bzzzzzzzz you are now sporting one less toenail. Bzzzzzzzzz you will never play the piano again. Bzzzzzzzz, yup there go the family jewels!

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