10 observations on being a parent

1)    You will have difficulty emptying your bowels when the toddler wanders into the lavatory uninvited and helpfully points out that you’re “having a poo poo on the big potty”.

2)    You will appreciate the value of You Tube if you are looking after a sick child and the only thing that will keep them entertained is Peppa Pig cartoons (or similar).

3)   When booking doctor’s appointments, you will learn that receptionists are much more helpful when they know you’re making an appointment for a young child.

4)   Following on from the above, you should always be ultra-polite to both the doctor’s receptionist and the doctor themselves. Innoculations and minor childhood ailments mean you’re going to see a lot of these people and probably at short notice.

5)   Travelling abroad? You’re going to need a much bigger suitcase.

6)   Travelling abroad? Make sure you’ve got your European Health Insurance Card and travel insurance. You will appreciate this if your little ones need medical treatment.

7)   In the earliest days you will find that absolutely everyone has an opinion on breastfeeding. The socially inept elements of society will force these opinions on you regardless of your own views and regardless of your family’s own experiences.

8)   You are expected to get on with everyone that has children of a similar age. Goodness knows why, you wouldn't choose to mix with most of them.

9)   You will begin to rate pubs not only on the quality of ale and wine on sale, but also on the quality of the high chairs and whether they sell Robinson’s Fruit Shoots. A bouncy castle in the beer garden gives any pub a stratospherically high “family friendly” rating.

10) Friends that aren’t married / in serious relationships and don’t have children will look at you blankly when you talk about your family and home life. It’s sad, but you will inevitably see less of these friends when you become a parent.

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.

Treasure every moment

I’m slightly melancholy at the moment. Anna and I are preparing to go abroad for a couple of days. Little Helen, meanwhile, will stay at home in the care of her grandmothers (Anna’s mum will have her for a day and my mother will have her for a day also. It’s not ideal but that’s the way it’s worked out).

Why the melancholy? Well, this will be the longest we’ve ever been away from Helen and I know I’m going to miss her massively. I’m also going to worry about her; will the grannies remember to apply Helen’s eczema cream? Will they at least feed her a little fruit? Will they remember to keep the stair gates closed?

Looking at it from another perspective, we’re actually very lucky. Helen’s got to an age where we have gained a little independence and can consider going away for a couple of days. It’s also something that isn’t going to happen often so we should make the most of it.

We actually went away to the same place exactly a year ago and on that occasion took Helen with us. She’s grown up so much in that short space of time.

When I think back a year, Helen could not speak or crawl and had only been eating solids for a couple of months. A year later she has a vocabulary of about 100 words, can run as well as walk, eats like a horse and can partially dress herself without assistance.

We’ve also been introducing Helen to the potty. Anna feels a little sad about this. She says nappies are the only remnants of Helen’s days as a baby and she’s sorry those days are all but passed.

The day Helen was born I cracked a very bad joke that she’ll soon be taking her driving test. It was a bad joke, but it was also accurate!

I clearly remember the day my younger (half) brother passed his driving test. He came home and took me and our other brother out for a spin in the Volkswagen Golf that was his first car.

I remember the occasion so vividly because of the look on my stepdad’s face when he saw his eldest son drive off for the first time. It was a very poignant moment; “Where did all those years go?” said his expression.

It’s a cliché, but Helen really is growing up so quickly. Anna and I must treasure every moment.

The world is not against me

When I wrote my first blog entry, I thought the world was going to be against me giving up full time work and becoming a stay at home father. A month down the line I can honestly say my opinion has changed.

It’s been fascinating talking to friends and strangers about my situation and hearing what they think about it. It’s perhaps not surprising that every woman I have spoken to has been very supportive of the decision Anna and I have taken.

What has genuinely surprised me, however, has been the reaction of the men. I’ve not heard a single negative comment or been made the butt of a single joke, quite the reverse in fact. All the men I’ve spoken to have totally understood and some have even expressed an interest in following in my footsteps.

That said, one of the most supportive men I spoke to also admitted he could never become the primary carer for his own children. He agreed the course of action Anna and I are taking makes absolute sense for us, especially economically, but confided that if he became his children’s full-time carer they would drive him to distraction and he would “kill them”! In a bizarre way I actually admire him for his honesty, children are without doubt very hard work.

For the record, he was joking about killing his children. Please don’t call Social Services, it would result in an unnecessary and ugly scene, but back to the matter in hand.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the world is obviously more advanced and liberal than I gave it credit for. There might not be many men in my situation, but we aren’t considered social pariahs at all.

I think the real test, however, will come in a couple of weeks when the transition actually takes place and Helen’s nursery hours are cut (oh yes, it’s all been formally agreed). Will the stay at home mothers accept me? Will I get invited to their coffee mornings and the like? I think their response will be fascinating.

Truth be told, if I get invited to some kind of mothers’ coffee morning I think I’ll run a mile in the opposite direction!