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I did all the night time feeds and as a reward my family let me sleep in until about 11 today, which really helped me get back on track and feeling like a regular human being. I was determined never to eat chocolate again after yesterday, but then my sister left some broken up Easter egg on the kitchen table and my resolve broke. I don’t know why as I was feeling sick already, but maybe it was the reminder I needed. I immediately gave up again. After eating a mini egg.
We then took Phoebe up the gorge for the first time. She seemed underwhelmed by it, choosing to sleep through most of the experience and just being annoyed by the sun in her eyes when she was awake. If I fail to get the great Cheddar sitcom made (which so far I have on at least four occasions), then maybe she can carry on my work. It was pretty busy up there, but I knew a few back road short cuts that got us away from the crowd. It’s enormously satisfying doing something as simple as this as a family. We had a coffee and some older kids at the next table were making a scene. Catie and me looked at each other, knowing that this was to come, but this weekend Phoebe has been 85% delightful company (and the other 15% isn’t really her fault as she’s just obeying instinct). Again I had this contradictory wish to know what she will be like as a bigger kid and an adult and for her to never change. I have loved having so much time with her and there’s nothing like the smile I now get every time she sees me after I haven’t seen her for a while. Even if it’s at 3am. Don’t miss out on all of this new dads: the tears and the puke and the poop create a bond more solid than superglue (not literally, my baby is not stuck to me with her own excrement). I know it’s easier for me to be involved due to the self-employed nature of my work (though obviously that also means I miss some entire days or weeks of my baby’s life), but it’s time to smash down the idea that babies are a female concern. Because I feel like a lot of men are missing out. You’d think someone waking you up every three hours to feed them and clean off their effluent would make you hate them, but somehow it makes you love them more. If you’re in the fortunate position where you’re both there and both able to do your bit then it’s a brilliant thing to share. Because as much as it’s fun to be with Phoebe, it’s also fucking brilliant to be allowed to sleep in occasionally. But maybe that unusual extra bit of time in bed was giving me a false high of positivity.
But it’s weird the things that make us feel like a proper family. A long bank holiday journey home, my wife changing a nappy on the back seat of the car at the services and me putting it in the bin was the thing that got to me today. It’s weird that the things that should be unpleasant are somehow amongst the most touching and affecting. Putting a pooey nappy in a service station bin made me feel like a proper dad. And being sat in a traffic jam on a sunny day with my family in the back of the car was another tick in the box.
The brand new oldest person in the world died today, after holding the title for a (even by the standards of the curse involved) ridiculously short reign. There are now only three 19th Century people left (discounting the 5 born in 1900, which is still the 19th Century but obviously doesn’t count), so again I have to make a mild adjustment to a routine in Lord of the Dance Settee. And I wonder what will last longer, the routine or the 3 remaining 1800s people. It’s a literal race to the death. Will any of them still be breathing in September when I perform this show for (probably) the last time? Or will anyone in the audience not kissed by an 1800s person have missed the chance to be the filling in a 200 year, three century kissing sandwich?
