Tired.
I am tired. I am desperately tired.
I am tired as only a newish parent can be; tired as a man whose nights have been interrupted and interrupted again for six months or more; tired as a lengthy comedy routine on BBC Radio poking fun at the fact that John Prescott might be overweight because he eats too much.
I stagger round the kitchen in my tiredness. The Baby has been awake even more over the past few days; he is up several times a night, boasts rosy cheeks and dribbles a lot. He smiles at me, just to be unkind.
Longing for a simple solution, I poke my finger in his mouth and scrabble around, desperately searching for teeth. But he is still as toothless as an elderly hen sitting on the Press Complaints Commission.
I am sure that he is doing it on purpose.
“I’ll see you later then,” says the LTLP. The door slams behind her, its echo causing a layer of doom to drift gently down into the kitchen.
I look at the Baby. The Baby looks at me.
As I gaze at him, I am once more overwhelmed with the situation. The LTLP has gone back to work, leaving me in sole charge. Not just of a house and of Child #1. Of a Baby. It is the most important role and responsibility that I have ever had in my life, ever ever.
The Baby inclines his head slightly at me. He has already contacted BT to place Social Services on our ‘Friends and Family’ and is no doubt now weighing up the most humorous time that he could do a poo. I sit down on the bottom step of the staircase and start biting my nails.
Updates might be a little sporadic for a while.
First! Can’t Short Tony babysit?
The most amusing time for a poo is bathtime. Especially if the toddler is in there with him. Handy hint: when fishing out a floater, use a wet wipe, as those don’t fall apart like paper towels do. Also, don’t feed babies curry, or no amount of wipes will help you.
So what are we supposed to call him then? Shall it be “Blake” to the toddler’s “Servalan”? But then we’d have to think of an appropriate character name for you, and frankly I’ve always seen you as more of a Ferengi myself…
Tired? You haven’t had PMS yet, then you’ll know tired!
The baby needs a hammock. Hang it over a big bed, place baby inside, rock gently. That li’l scamp will sleep so soundly, he’ll forget about his ploy to keep you from blogging.
It does get better. The happiest day of my life was when I realised that #2 child really was toilet-trained. You’d think that one’s happiest memories would be of sex or drugs or rock and roll (not bowls, sorry) but no, toilet-training rules.
PS
My wife loved the book too.
Thank you!
GG: throughout my life I have suffered from male PMS, which is a lot worse, I can tell you.
Sporadic? Don’t be blaming the baby for sporadic blog posts, you’re too busy tweeting!! You’re almost as active as Cheggers.
That’s spooky, Ivan, I was just wondering about the naming ceremony myself. I think Jonny sees himself more in the Blake role, somehow, although I’m with you there!
Stephen is wise – it does get better. Mine are frighteningly enormous (tall – not wide. I am raising no John Prescotts), fully toilet trained, AND they can all get their own glasses of water (another major milestone) and I sense that in a year, maybe two, it will all be quite easy again and I will be able to sleep.
I think it would be an Avon, from the calculating behaviour. Unless it has very curly hair.
I definitely regard myself as a Blake figure, especially given the parallels between his actions in episodes 1 & 2 (‘The Way Back’ and ‘Space Fall’) and my life here in Norfolk.
I would say Short Tony has more of the Avon about him. The Avon lady!!! haha I am funny.
Male PMS!
Yes, you sure are funny.
And I don’t mean ‘funny ha-ha’.
ajb1605 – I’d suspected it – blaming the baby.
Don’t panic, we’ll plan a breakfast meeting up the road. Remember, we’re all in it together.
Since he is a latecomer, how about Tarrant?
You all seem rather fragile.
Back in the good old days you would have made sure there was another baby in the making before of to work at ‘t pit’.
your other five children would already be hard at work in ‘t fields’ and chimneys.
I’ve never juggled two, one offspring at a time was all I could cope with, but I have an idea of what you are going through. If you need a break, real or virtual, you know how to get hold of us.
Can’t the chickens help out around the house???
Actually, if the Baby is as scheming as you say, Travis.
Which Travis? There were two…
The first one. The second one lisped.
Man up Jonny! – before you know it you will be blogging about their problems as teenagers.
Your regular “10 x 500ml Skin So Soft” order has been put on hold, pending payment of outstanding invoices.Once paid, I would advise “Sleeptherapy Goodnight Pillow Mist”. A bargain at £4.50.
If you must stick your finger in your babies mouth please make sure it is freshly washed and dried with a clean towel. Oh just don’t do it!
You could be anaemic. Have a blood test.