You want anything on those???

Time to get that homing pigeon I was planning to buy..

Shows we are in a worrying state of affairs when a vital staple goes up 33% in price...

Come the end of April in the UK, the cost of stamps rises from 45p to 60p (first class) and 36p to 50p (second class). That's about one third for each. As we all post a letter from time to time, and will continue for years to come, it might be wise to pick some up.

Do massive price rises like this occur in other countries? I doubt it. Just an indicator of the measures The Man will take to even get to even the pennies in your pocket. People will have to get more creative when time for sending the Xmas cards comes around, I reckon.

A.

Some of the things I've learnt about babies are...

1. They are warm little bundles who keep your hands toasty: Statement of the bleedin' obvious I guess. For me, it's a fundamental reminder of the little life we've created. She might snuffle like pig, fart like a backfiring motorcycle and produce warm, heavy nappies for me to dispose of. However, she's the newest member of the family and as important to me as all the rest of them.. apart from the cat.. marginally...

2. Some babies are cuter than others: Maybe my proud Dad hat sits a little too securely atop my head right now, it's just I notice some really unappealing children. Ours is but a fragrant princess in comparison.

3. When they start paying attention to things, it can be hilarious: What a fascinating world it must be for Isadora as I carry her through it. Even our front room which I pace up and down in to calm her, seems to be full of wonders that hold her in rapt fascination. My daughters' eyes have this look of drugged fascination when something gets her interest. The latest something being Baby Mozart -  a soothing mix of colourful children's toys, baroque style Muzak and nursery rhyme voice overs. Its all too soothing and hypnotic to be honest - a touch of Stoner Mozart I'm sure you'll agree.

And that's what comes to mind for the moment. I will be summoned back to my duties very shortly I'm sure. You find days becomes very short when there's a tiny little person who runs the place. It's like a parent who allocates duties out to children who have nothing to do:
"Just sat down? I need you to clean my bottom."
"Enjoying dinner? I want you to pace up and down outside in the cold to calm me down" - Shanklin IOW, April 2012. I swear Isadora must've taken offence at the decor of our restaurant or something.
"Nice shirt. Let me sick up down the front of it".


Anyway, I've probably spent too much time in the Man Cave now, I can hear my little one's indignant howls in the distance.

A.

Weekend away and playing the tour guide.

So Granny is off back home soon; it's been a hard week...

I've decided parenthood is like being logistics manager and PA all rolled into one. You're there to ensure everything runs smoothly for the party, all their needs are catered for and the nappies are disposed of in a timely manner.  

This isn't a bad thing. Hell, it's what I signed up for as payment for the wonderful little creature I get to see every day. However, relaxation has been pitched to the curb in the last week due to the steady schedule of infant placation and herding the bigger people around. Before setting off to the Isle of Wight I worked tirelessly to ensure everything ran smoothly, ticking off the boxes to make our outward journey as stress-less as possible:

Sandwiches? Check!

X dressed in good time? Check!

Diet coke for the driver? Check!

Baby chaperone whilst the driver takes her shower? Check!

Baby placator when she's kicking off? Check! As I sat in my uncle's flat staring up at a portrait of my grandparents I wondered how they would deal with inconsolable great-grandchildren. Sometimes you can do with a hand during the night shift, pacing up and down the carpet. Or a pair of earplugs...

Tour guide for the overseas guest when you just want to stare off into the distance? Check!

As I say, you do what you gotta do. However, I hadn't realised the state of elevated readiness I was in till the evening when we ordered dinner. When the first sip of beer passed my lips the adrenaline just seeped away and I melted into my chair. Another thing the single guy should know is: women absolutely love babies. Seriously. Love. Them. When previously I could make my way around unmolested, now I gotta make conversation with the ladies who physically go weak at the knees when they see my brand new baby! "Aaahhh!" They say. 

"Isn't she cute?" They coo.

"What's her name?" They ask.

And on it goes. I've mused creating a card to be handed out to passers-by who show interest. It consists of the following statements:

1. Yes.

2. Isadora.

3. 8 pounds 14 ounces.

4. 5 and half weeks now.

The entrepreneur in me wonders, is there money in this? Could I hire my baby out to friends in need? I would hide close-by whilst they chat the girls up with Isadora as wingman? Or is that wingbaby? 

Business plan being formulated now - all offers considered! ;)

A.