The serenity of chickenpox

The little one fell asleep on me a few minutes ago. It was one of those serene parental moments that I love and I’m sure I’ll never forget.

You see poor little Helen has chickenpox. It’s been going round her nursery for weeks so it was only a matter of time before she got infected herself.

With Anna having left for work, I got Helen up this morning. I’d given her a bath, got her dressed, given her breakfast and so on. Not surprisingly she wasn’t on the best form so there were some tears and demands for cuddles.

After a while I found myself sat on the sofa with the little one on my lap. I wasn’t playing any music and the television was turned off so all I could hear was the sound of Helen breathing. It was deep and quick and her head was against my chest.

 After a few minutes I remembered there was a BBC2 documentary I wanted to watch. If the little one was quiet and happy sitting on my knee, why not watch it?

Something persuaded me not to turn the television on. Life is busy enough, I thought. I’m always rushing round and busy so why not just enjoy the peace, sit with Helen for a little while and do absolutely nothing. That’s exactly what I did.

After a few more minutes I looked down and saw, to my amazement, that she’d actually fallen asleep. This happened all the time when she was a new-born but I honestly can’t remember the last time she fell asleep on my chest. It must have been more than a year ago.

I knew that I’d have to take her upstairs and tuck her in to bed, but for a few minutes I just kept her there and enjoyed the calm, peaceful atmosphere. To Helen it probably doesn’t mean a great deal and has probably been forgotten already. To me it was a beautiful and special moment and I doubt very much that I’ll forget it.

It's tense, and C3PO stole the baby monitor

There’s a certain tension in the air at home at the moment and there are a few different reasons for this. Firstly, we’ve removed the bars from the side of Helen’s cot so she’s now sleeping in her own bed.

Whereas Helen’s been very excited about getting a grown-up bed, Anna’s been in a state of high alert over the past few evenings in case Helen rolls out and on to the floor. I’m more relaxed about the situation. I think the bed is so low to the ground that Helen would have to do something spectacular to injure herself.

That said, the inevitable actually happened this morning and I had to scoop Helen up off the floor. There were a few tears but the most serious injury was to Helen’s pride and a quick cuddle seemed to put that right.

It is perhaps just as well that we’ve got both a bed guard and baby monitor on order from Mothercare. While I question whether it will do much for Helen, Anna and I will have peace of mind knowing that:

1)      It’ll be difficult for her to tumble out the bed and

2)      We’ll hear it if she does.

You might think it odd that we don’t already have a baby monitor. Well, we did have one but we lost the receiver end some time ago. It suspiciously went missing at our wedding reception shortly after my brother, who’d had a little bit to drink, was seen using it to do impressions of the Star Wars character C3PO.

Oh, yes, that was quite a night.

Another reason for the tension is that Helen had the MMR jab nine days ago. We’re on tenterhooks because we’ve been led to believe that many kids fall ill and get a temperature at day 10. Helen’s been clingy over the past few days so I’ve been wondering if something is brewing.

There are a couple of other reasons for the tense atmosphere at home but I’m not going to say anything just yet. All I’ll say is they’re positive reasons and I hope to be in a position to reveal something shortly.

Oh, just one further point. More conservative readers may have picked up on the fact that our baby monitor was in use at our wedding reception. In an act of full disclosure I confess that little Helen was born before we got married. Nobody’s perfect…

Until next time…

I'm shitting it, but welcome to my blog

I am the married father of an eighteen month old girl. In a few weeks time life for my family, and particularly for me, will change massively.

You see I’m about to give up full time employment to become the main carer for our little girl. To protect her privacy I shall refer to her as Helen. My wife Anna, not her real name, will remain in full-time employment and will be the bread-winner for the family.

I am desperate to spend more time with the little one and look forward to it. It would be dishonest of me, however, not to admit I’m shitting it. It’s not the being at home with Helen that frightens me, it’s the uncertainty of leaving full time employment behind. The longest I've ever been out of work is six weeks, and that was only because I was recovering from surgery.

I’m worried about the loss of income and also the prejudice I might face as a man taking on a role that many would consider women’s work. It is, after all, rare to find a man that is the main carer for his kids. Some of my friends and family know of these plans. A remarkable number have been very supportive but I’ve had to tolerate a few disapproving comments.  

At some point in the future I know I am going to attend a party where I don’t know anyone. I can imagine the conversation:

“And what do you do for a living?”

“Well I used to work in PR and communications but now work part-time and look after our daughter.”

“Oh, you’re a househusband, fascinating…”

At this point I imagine the conversation coming to a swift end as other guests start nudging each other, pointing at me and whispering about this atypical situation. Okay, okay, maybe I am a bit paranoid and focusing on the negatives a bit more than is necessary but as Richard Nixon said; “just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get me”.

That said, I’m not sure who they would be; disapproving mothers at the school gate perhaps or maybe disapproving male friends and relatives? Unlike Nixon, I think I can safely say that in my case it won’t be the CIA.

I sense I'm getting a bit carried away! So how have I ended up in this position? Well, it was bit like the stars coming into alignment – a number of things happened that just made this the obvious course of action.

Crucially, however, Anna and I don’t want little Helen to be in full-time nursery care any longer. She has been at nursery five days a week since the age of eight months and we both want her to spend more time with us. Both Anna and I thought it would be straightforward to have our daughter in nursery while the two of us worked. This hasn’t proved to be the case.

We find that we’re always playing catch-up with the housework and weekends are filled with domestic chores that we haven’t done during the week. Added to this, Helen's first words were said at nursery. A few months later her first steps were also taken at nursery. It made us feel uncomfortable that we weren’t present for these significant moments in her life. This, I should add, is no criticism of Helen’s nursery care. She’s always had excellent carers and that's an important point to stress.

It also came as something of a surprise when we recently discovered that little Helen was one of only two children of her age at nursery five days a week. While it always made me feel a little uncomfortable having her in full-time childcare, I refuse to feel guilty about it. As first time parents I think we were a bit naive about how difficult it would be to put Helen in nursery five days a week. We’ve learnt our lesson, and we’re now taking action to put it right.

A major influence on our decision has also been the economic realities of life in the 21^st century, i.e. modern woman's ability to earn more than modern man. Although I have what many would deem a professional job, my wife can command a higher salary because she has a specialised occupation.

In addition to this, I had for some time been thinking about leaving my job and seeking new opportunities elsewhere. There had been a restructure at my employer and the culture changed massively. My role became considerably more demanding and equally less enjoyable. Having childcare commitments didn't make life any easier and becoming a father changed my priorities. It is, after all, difficult to bring work home at the weekends when granny and grandad are visiting. 

I lived for the weekend when I could spend time with the family but dreaded Sundays. I spent much of the day watching the clock, counting down the hours until I had to return to the office. It was desperately depressing and I became very moody. Anna made it clear she found this upsetting and this made me feel awful.

One fateful day a couple of months ago things came to a head. I'd had a dreadful day at work and returned home miserable. I discussed all the options with Anna and we felt the best course of action was to throw caution to the wind and for me to resign. Either something would come up during my notice period or I would do office temp work for a while.

A little time has now passed and a clearer plan has formed. I plan to work part-time, possibly freelance, and have Helen with me two days a week. In addition to this, I’ll take care of more of the domestic drudgery that needs to be done, and this, we hope, will reduce the amount of time spent on household chores in the evenings and weekends and enable us to spend more time together as a family. As a side-effect, this will enable Anna to concentrate on her career.

I’m presently working through my notice period and applying for jobs. I’m pleased to say I am getting interviews but I suspect I may end up working for temp agencies until something turns up. In the short term, I don’t care.

So that’s an introduction to my story. In the weeks and months to come I shall update this blog as plans take shape and I become a stay-at-home father. In the meantime I look forward to reading your comments!