Are you ready for pain...?

Not much longer now..

Stretchmarks? I don't think she's that fussed!

Just as I think Ellen can get no larger, her abdomen grows outwards a further inch the following morning!

We're at 34ish weeks now. Her enormous bump seems gravity defying when view it every morning, one of those Mother Nature carvings made flesh. I haven't had one of those 'f**k I'm gonna be a Dad' moments yet. When we're driving our freshly minted little one home one day late Feb/ early March I'm sure reality will kick in soon enough.

The NCT classes have been eye opening. Seeing blokes as bemused as I was a reassurance. The girls wanted to learn, support each other and network, whereas us guys wanted to be down the boozer instead. Helpful stuff though, the big mystery of before and after birth has been cleared slightly, and watching a middle age woman demonstrate newborn breast feeding was something I won't forget. 3 hours learning about the ways of the bob was way too much for me, when our tutor started passing around A3 laminated pics of grimacing babies being sprayed by breast milk I could only think of one thing..

As did most of the other guys present..

Anyway, if you haven't felt the sensation of an unborn baby kicking or wriggling, it's something words cannot describe. Sometimes a gentle squeeze reveals a back, or a bottom, or a head. There's something in there, biding its time before coming out into the world to make you life as different as it can be.

I'm sure this'll be a wondrous thing. The fatherhood tales of former work colleagues used to make me cringe with horror, but right now I'm really excited as to where the journey will take us in the next few years...Nappies and baby sick excluded of course...

A.

A dead dog in a suitcase..

An anecdote told my boss about a friend of a friend.. truth, urban legend - you decide.

My friend had a friend. This was a girl who lives out of London who house-sat one evening for a family who had a cherished family dog. That evening the dog, who was old and poorly, passed away. The girl was horrified! In a flap she phoned up a vet who lived in London. He recommended she brought the dog down to his surgery so he could keep an eye on it. "How do I get down there?", she thought, "I don't have a car!". So, she dug up an old suitcase which she could fit the (thankfully medium sized) canine inside and opted to catch the train down to London to see her friend.

Trouble is, a dead dog, even a smallish one, weighs a far amount. As the journey progressed a smell started to build in the carriage, and people started to eye her in a most disturbing manner. She was mortified! The girl managed to get her load onto the train but struggled to disembark at her destination. A considerate looking young man took pity on her struggles and volunteered to help. "What you got in here?", he asked, "This bag weighs a ton!" Obviously not able to tell the truth she blurted out the first thing which came to mind: "Speakers! I'm giving them to a friend."

Thoroughly flustered by her day thus far, she was even more shocked when the would be Samaritan ran off with her suitcase!

Kim Jung Il and other things..

So we've been attending the NCT classes: a chance for expectant mothers to mingle and their partners to look awkward and confused.

To be honest, I feel I have acquitted myself pretty well. I'm finding the subject matter pretty interesting and I can answer some of the questions our tutor asks! In short, the other guys look like they'd rather be elsewhere - I'm actually enjoying it.

It helps that our tutor has some quite fascinating toys and props with which to learn us. My favourite so far is a laminated series of A4 cutaway drawings showing the final stages of delivery. Y'know the sort of thing, waters break, baby crowns, turns 90 degrees before fully emerging, followed by the placenta ejection to finish. We were charged in putting the pics in order on the carpet and stood over them after, admiring our work. The pic of the newly delivered baby was particularly oriental and wizened. As most babies are, I guess. However the babe who was staring up at me happened to be the doppleganger of ex Korean dictator Kim Jung Il! Just needed the sunglasses to complete the look, it was uncanny....

In other news, I've just turned 35. Bleh. No new age related observations for you right now. I've got other things to focus on in truth. My favourite present by a mile was from Xander, he gave me two packs of bacon. Yes, bacon! The salty gift which the whole family can enjoy! I thought I'd run out of things to marvel and be amused about, but such a distinctive gift has restored my faith in life.

A.

In the War On Stuff..

..We're actually winning!..

The North Face of the Mountain was challenging to even the most experienced climbers..

Before: the mountain of stuff which in just one short week has nearly become a nursery space for our little one. Isadora is about 8 weeks from arriving (early threats of arrival aside) and Ellen is kitting out her baby bedroom with panache and a deft touch. To be honest I can only get excited by Hello Kitty decor to a certain extent - but it seems E cannot get enough of the stuff. Nonetheless, I watch the acquisition of baby toys and paraphernalia with buoyant good humour. Hefting the bits of the Ikea wardrobe into place well and truly did my back in.. but it's all for a good cause.

'After' picture to come in due course.

A.

Xmas came early to our house this year..

A valuable few minutes to blog between present wrapping and bedtime for X...

...he doesnt want to go, funnily enough!

So.. Ellen has been stocking up on baby stuff. The last few months we've been on the receiving end of well wishers, regular deliveries courtesy of ebay and the

like. Personally I didn't realise so much stuff was required beyond the pram and kiddy clothes - how naive was I?

Anyway, E has been dealing with the bounty. It currently forms a mountain range on top of our wardrobe: Maternity Mountain. Soft Toy Cirque... [the alliteration runs dry after that..]

Some stuff did work its' way over to me.

Yes, its the stretch-mark cream (E is allergic to it)! It is a remarkable treatment for the soles of my horny, hobbit-like feet. The damage from hundreds of miles of walking is now been reversed by the coco butter which new mums put over their bellies. And it works too! No longer is the skin on my heels splintered and dangerous, it's soft and pleasing to the touch.

Kinda funny really. I laughed at the repulsion and horror in the expression of a gay guy I used to work with when we were discussing men's feet. Well, mine in particular (long story). At the time I was bemused by his use of foot moisturiser as an integral part of his grooming regime, it sounded like some effete metrosexual fad to me..

..Plus ca change...

A.

What? What? What?

Today, it seems, youtube is the my main source of what The Kids are down with. During my idle moments I browse the video titles: Bieber, Skyrim, X-Factor, ...blah-de-blah-de-blah. Its all the same stodgy, insipid nonsense which has all the interest to as a cool bowl of porridge.

Recently I was checking out some South Park movie clips. I'll admit it, that film really appealed to the smutty 15 year old in me who I was trying so hard to repress at the time. The songs mix the basest toilet humour with melodies that Cole Porter would be proud of - catchy stuff.

Anyway, one of the tunes is sung by 'Butters': a blond haired kid who served as a Kenny replacement (or something like that?). He becomes a big star and releases his own single. Once again, catchy but slightly inflammatory in suggesting sex with young children. "That's South Park," I thought, "always ready to push the boundaries of decency for better or worse".

Little did I know "What, what, what in the Butt" was actually a cover of a guy called Samwell. His video raises a number of questions in my mind which I struggle to answer. Watch it yourself and see what you think.