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I am now the father to Joseph John Renton, born 1.35am Monday 27th August 2007, weighing 7 lb 5 oz.
The feeling is completely indescribable.
I didn’t realise this before today, but apparently Eric needs to weigh 10 stone, and Social Services come to take away the babies of pagan parents. Also, knowing one’s limits and asking for help are frowned upon. And the mortgage advisor is “really sad that I’m not more pro-active”.
Oh, and “Ian is bone-idle. I might be able to change him, but it seems doubtful”.
Better yet, drinking any milk that isn’t skimmed and long-life is apparently an act of rebellion! Full-fat milk for all! Long live the revolution!
I need to shout at this woman sometime soon, before I explode.
If anyone wants 5% off stuff from www.homeofpoi.com, they just sent us many money-off-code sticker things. Comment if you want one!
By nine o’clock the sun has already set so deeply that it is time to draw the curtains against the night. The sky is full of clouds, obscuring whatever moon and stars there might have been; ready to dampen this town again tonight and tomorrow.
There have been a few summery days of late, but it was in April and May that we had an unexpectedly early summer. Now it’s mid-August, normally the time when the sun burns down most strongly on beaches full of smiling faces, and it feels like whatever Summer we had is now gone. The beaches are sparse and cold, the tourists finding indoor activities to pass their time, and we stay inside and look out across the damp and windy town, waiting for twilight to draw in. Another day ends, and with it thoughts of a Summer like those we used to know.
They say this winter will be colder than last, and next summer hotter than this. But, really, who knows? Even further on into the future, will there be snowy Januaries and sunny Julys? I hope so, but… there’s a lot of new things this year.
It’s ten days now until the baby’s due, though it might well be sooner. I think I’m more prepared than I was, but it’s still somewhat unfathomable - just how much will our lives change, and in what ways? Will we be good parents or bad? Will our friends stick around or fade away? Will we stay young, or grow old?
Will we still think the same things, as we watch a Spring sunrise or the premature Autumn twilight?
There are clouds inland, but not here. This close to the coast, in the summer, they just seem to pass us by. And so, day after day the sun bakes the ground, and the wind is warm enough to be barely an interlude. Work isn’t too hard at the moment, despite having taken on responsibility for half the project’s software. (Now everything’s version controlled and such, it’s not too difficult!) Thus, I have the time to spend my lunch sitting on the wall of the harbour, listening to the screeching gulls, the screeching tourists, and the water lapping against the rocks below.
The concept of fatherhood has got a lot less scary recently. I don’t think, really, I’m scared at all anymore. It’s a big life-changing thing, of course, but more than that it’s an adventure. And unless life kept on changing, I guess I’d get bored. So that’s all okay, the theory is fine. It’s the practicality that’s worrying me at the moment. The time is very close; less than a week now. But knowing when, that’s difficult. There doesn’t seem to be any advice on which symptoms imply whic
h degrees of imminence. There’s a lot of weird biology going on, I keep being told all the symptoms she has, but all it does is make me fret about it more.
Eric’s sister and her boyfriend are coming to Bournemouth and staying with us, apparently for the next week. Thus it looks like I’ll have another source of stress! Hurrah!
Now, tea and trying to relax. They’ll be here in about half an hour, and I’ve only just got home…
Also, Bella Italia do Crispy Duck pizza, with Hoi Sin sauce and spring onions and… cheese. It’s absolutely bloody heretical! I want some now.
In my dream I was myself, mostly, although there was undeniably the nature of Oisin mac Cumhaill about me. I was so besotted with the ladies of one family that every generation I would return for a night, from fairyland to the human world, in order to spend a night with the youngest lady of the family.
One such night, I rode up to the house where the youngest still lived with her mother. Upon seeing her I immediately fell in love, but after having been invited into the house and spending some time with her, I somehow upset her enough that she went crying to her mother.
I stood in the corridor, not knowing what to do, until the yonug lady’s grandparents - who also lived there - appeared. They gave me a knowing look, and that was enough to convince me to push open the door to the mother’s room.
Inside I found the young lady whom I had upset, who was Eric, and her mother, who was also Eric but about fifty years of age, sitting together on the bed.
I was stunned to see the older Eric, with whom I had fallen in love on my previous return to the world, and I think she was equally so to see me. Seeing the two women with whom I was in love together, I knew I could not comfort one at the expense of the other - they were both equally dear to me. So I held them both tightly to me until their tears and mine both dried.
So long did I hold them that the sun rose high over the hills. The women had both fallen asleep, leaving me standing over them. I cried again, then, knowing I would not see them again.
Then the sun caught on the windows of the room, flooding the room with light, and I was no more.
That time’s approaching ever faster now. I’ve started thinking about it in terms of days rather than weeks or months, which just adds an extra bit of scariness to it.
It’s odd, now that summer’s finally here for a while and the sun shines brightly, the days seem to pass much more quickly. Yesterday I got to work late, came home early, and played frisbee at lunctime. It’s summer, at last, and I hope it stays that way…
Fear my INFPishness!
Thank you to everyone who turned up and made the Bournemouth Meet shiny and awesome, even though we didn’t manage to get much sunshine or barbecueing done! It was awesome to see you all again. Hopefully there’ll be another one again next year, and maybe it might actually feel like July then too!
It feels really odd, suddenly being in an empty house though. And work tomorrow will be weird…
Question for the Soton kiddies: What’s next? August has birthdays for Claire and Rhiannon; is there anything big planned for us lot?
That… was a lot of cleaning! The flat is almost spotless now, ready for a dozen people to descend upon it this weekend! Whole rooms have been reorganised, it’s quite scary. There’s now even some sense of order in the kitchen! And my recipe books are accessible!
On which note, I have a day off today. (Kind of figured.) By my reckoning I deserve it:
Did I mention in a previous post a vast horrible mess of code, under no version control and with an entirely paper-based bug tracker? Well, guess who’s in charge of that now? Yep. The other developer has other things he needs to work on, so I inherited it. On Wednesday lunchtime. By yesterday afternoon, the number of open bugs had reduced from 8 to a shiny zero, it was all in SVN and I’d tidied the whole repository. Victory!
Oh yes, but all the new bugs aren’t properly in the bug tracker yet. Because somebody stole the hole-punch.