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It was Phoebe’s first birthday. In some ways it’s hard to believe that a year has gone so fast, but also difficult to believe that she hasn’t been here forever. But sheer bloody minded persistence she has ground me down and made me believe that having this tiny, shitting, idiotic parasite in my house is a good thing and not an enormous pain in the arse. Well played Phoebe, well played.
It was another slightly disturbed night but she eventually got to sleep. Alas I woke up at 4.45 because I am a middle-aged man and had eaten some curry and had one beer last night. More annoyingly, after a brief 5am wake-up, she slept until 8.15am. Which is something that most parents would dream of (you know if they could ever get to sleep). But I was awake the whole time. So I couldn’t even dream of the thing that was happening. I had to be awake to see it. Which is not the deal.
But it was apt to spend the day in a bit of a blur, because that is how the whole year has been. Phoebe got to open her ludicrous amount of presents on our bed this morning and was of course more fascinated by the paper and ribbons than any of the gifts. And we went for lunch at her maternal grandparents where she was spoiled, though thankfully not spoilt, as the welcome mat had promised. She is standing up unaided for a few seconds now and I hoped that she might take her first few steps before the exact anniversary of her birth. But as much as I cajoled and shouted at her she did nothing better than a falling stagger into her mother’s arms. You had your chance Phoebe and you blew it. You could have walked before you were one.
Phoebe celebrated the exact second of her birth by eating some big baby Wotsits as we sang Happy Birthday to her and she looked a bit confused as to what had prompted us all to make noise in unison. Maybe next year she will understand better what a birthday is. I remember getting a birthday cake in the shape of Brian the Snail from the Magic Roundabout and that was the first time I think I understood what the day was about. Can you guess what age I was at that time? I think you are thinking maybe three or four. But I was actually 28 years old. That was quite a surprise. And presumably I was suffering some kind of mental problem, so it was a sad story really. I hope you didn’t laugh. Oh you didn’t? Fine then.
I am amazed that we’ve kept this little bundle of gristle and hair alive and mainly unharmed for a whole year. She is robust and brave (although weirdly fearful of a teddy-bear jack in the box that she got for her birthday - she moans a bit when the bear goes into the box, but isn’t scared by it reappearing) and I am less terrified that something awful will happen at any second (though still terrified that something awful will happen at any second). I think we have done a good job so far. We are terrible human beings, but good parents. We watched “Back in Time for the Weekend” this evening, where a family with older kids experiences what social life was like in different decades. The teenage daughter was desperate to get away from her family and assert her independence and I couldn’t bear to think of Phoebe leaving us behind and made a wish that she stayed being a baby forever. This will soon be made into a major Hollywood motion picture.
Of course I want her to grow up and go away and leave us in peace really, but it’s heartbreaking to think about, even though it’s years away. But it’s not that many years away. And year one didn’t last long.
What have I learned being a dad? Um…. I haven’t learned a thing. Just like everything in life you have to just try and get on with it and not let the shitty bits get you down. Unlike most of the rest of life the good bits feel like a shining diamond infused with plutonium gently heating the whole world from your heart. I can’t wait to see what she does next, the triumphs and disasters, how many new arguments that my wife and I can conjure up from nothing but pure exhaustion and continue to watch this tiny human develop into the person that she will be and find out how old she will be before she sees through me and realises how flawed and useless I am. At the moment she thinks I am a genius who knows everything and can come up with amazing jokes and songs off the top of my head. But Phoebe, all the good jokes and songs were created by someone else (but I am still brilliant at doing them).
It’s been great so far. And it’s only going to get easier, right?
The 99th RHLSTP with the wonderful Cariad Lloyd is now out on video
And audio