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.

The other kind of birthday..

You think he likes it?

With all the focus on the smallest member of the family, today is X's chance to be spoilt and doted upon. He turns seven today and has been the happy recipient of a large box of goodies acquired over the last few months. I myself have been scouring the stores since before xmas. It's really satisfying to see my efforts appreciated. 

As you can probably see, Lego is still the thing. Generic city or medieval sets have been replaced by something with a little more pep - in this case 'Ninjago': a sort of ninja meets Skeletor meets PG rated Mortal Kombat. Here X has just received Garmadon's Fortress and he's beside himself with joy. It's the reason I enjoy buying stuff for him, he's still young enough to be genuinely enthusiastic about stuff, not cool and aloof. When he stops getting all excited about his birthday and Xmas, I'll stop buying him stuff...

..just kidding...

Latest Baby News: little I continues to be the most rewarding creature I have ever seen. It's difficult to put into words to explain to the childless, but I just cannot get enough of every little expression, every little noise, every little gesture she makes. I guess the novelty will wear off one day, but in the meantime I'm drinking in how soft she is, her striking blue eyes, her chubby cheeks that make her look like a cross between Alfred Hitchcock and a bulldog and countless other features which just feel so right when I'm staring down at her. Of course she can only cry to get her point across, and nappy time will sometimes elicit the most heart wrenching shriek that strikes both E and myself to the core. 

Its still early days, I marvel at the number of nappies she gets through, and how warm and heavy they are when I chuck 'em in the bin. One day she will be so much more than the snuffling, pudgy little bundle she is right now. In the meantime I'm enjoying my first steps of parenthood.

A.

She's ready for her closeup now..

My camera has not been far from my side in the last weeks. Every eye-roll, every smile, every fart, has to be captured for posterity. It was ever thus for the parents of brand new children though, I guess.

Seated in her vibrating chair (22 days old?). Debating whether to fall asleep or scream in outrage for being put down!

You can't help but think your kid is the most beautiful child in the world. Are people just being polite when they are cooing over your little one? Or are they really as taken with her as you? It brings out a competitive streak which can was deeply hidden for years previous.   

Burping time: lean her forward, prop chin up on hand and rub back vigorously. A rattling belch is still unexpected but very gratifying to hear.

Having a bowling ball for a skull must be a drag. I watch with amusement as Isadora tries to raise her head, or it slumps to the side after a massive feed. She has strong little fingers, tries to slip out of your grip like a salmon would, but hasn't mastered holding up that big old skull of hers yet. 

A.

Bringing up baby

Firstly, thanks so much for the cards and well wishes. Seems to be fatigue and multiple errand running which keep me from getting in touch, it will happen, I promise.

Ok, we're two and a half weeks in now. The little bundle of confused looking poop and piddle has now become a larger, more aware bundle of poop and piddle. Isadora has passed her birth weight today and a young life of weight gain seems assured.

She pulls some wondrous expressions during her day. My particular favourite is the strained bulldog like face just before she's about to fart. And boy can she crank them out - its like Terrence and Phillip out of South Park. Of course the farting often precedes something more. She fills her nappies with a regularity which is impressive, but it's not the lake of liquid sewage I was dreading. Too be honest, with the milk diet it just looks like french mustard... and with that thought I shan't be eating french mustard again!   

Our baby continues to be a very mellow child. Normally the skittish sort, Maeve the cat sits nearby watching her scream at nappy changing time with mild interest. Isadora took the barium swallow at hospital with only the minimum of protest - would've been within her rights to scream the house down. As a sidenote a baby with a gobfull of barium reminded me of Ian Holm spitting up white stuff in Aliens.. these things come up at the funniest of times, don't they?

When she's awake, you can't help but watch her little eyes taking in the world. Mum gets an expression of total fascination (and rightfully so) whilst the rest of the world is regarded with dumb fascination. Her "Why the **** are you carrying me around? Where's mother?" expression makes my day everytime I see it. 

Anyway, that's my first meditations on living with a newborn baby. Will add more when they come to me.  

Cheers,

Alex