Its now been three weeks, and the "firsts" just keep getting ticked off. First trip to a sailboard shop (SHQ) being a highlight (just edging out his first stiffy...). First mozzie bite being the lowlight. In between theres been first trip in a supermarket kiddie-trolley thing, first projectile poo (mum had to strip naked and have a full body wash) and first shower (with dad).
Little Mike also had his first maternal health care check up. He's put on nearly 400 grams (in 10 days), and grown another 2.3 cm , making him 54.3cm long. Apparently, this growth rate is all good and infact somewhat above median, so he may well have climbed the height/weight percentile ladder a little more.
And mum and dad are learning a helluva lot too.
For instance, did you know dads are superfluous to the baby raising experience??
No, neither did we, until we visted our first parents(i.e., mothers) group...
The group consisted of a whopping great 16 mums (and 17 bubs: 1 set of twins) with the little'uns ranging in age from the youngest - just under 2 weeks - to the oldest - 9 weeks. Fortunately for AB, there was also 3 other dads at this first group meeting, including the dad of the twins.
The woman taking the class admittedly she hadnt done this very much, but she was a nurse of many years and a midwife for only slightly less. Still, when she announced that fathers pretty much just got in the way during this baby rearing thingy, and hence had to sit back and let mum rule and basically keep in the background cos mother knows best, all the blokes, and a fair proportion of the chicks, were, well, a bit stunned.
What is this? The fifties???
Mistress P was actually more upset about this comment than AB was - but thats prolly because AB has heard it all now, and realises that this is the old school baby nursing philosophy colliding with the new school one.
Old School - blokes dont change nappies and if (and I paraphrase from one parenting book) "mum feels like relaxing during the hectic day of looking after baby, a good thing to do is to cook a nice dinner for your husband, as he has probably been complaining that he hasnt been fed that well during the early weeks of parenthood". Oh sweet fanny adams. Did Bill Heffernan write this stuff???
New School - it took two to tango, so now you both gotta pay the band. A poo'ey nappy doesnt discriminate who changes it, so neither should you. (As Donald Duck Dunne said in the Blue Brothers; if the shit fits, wear it. Or something like that.)
Anyway, thats the rant.
The best thing about the "parents" club meeting was 1) realising how buggered everyone else was, and that, in fact, we were doing quite well thank you very much, and 2) that there were a number of other parents living remarkably close by. The closest - Megan - is in fact less than a sand wedge away, diagonally opposite our place and next door to "mad taxi driver family". (As soon as we said "do you live next door to 'mad taxi driver family'?" there was an immediate "YES!" of mutual recognition (of the madness we suspsct), plus a laugh.)
Quite apart from the growing realisation that life will never be the same again, is the growing fear that it has changed the way we'll look at boobies for ever more. At "parents" club they were just being thrown out and about like nobodies business, and indeed at home the sight of a naked breast has become a daily (as opposed to birthdays and wedding anniversary) occurance.
The newfound pneumaticy and the need for the occasional 'air dry' has AB worried that Mistress P will wander off down the shops one day with "the headlights on"...
Not that its any worry for Mr Mike. He's still reveling in the joys of breastfeeding. He can go about 3-4 hours without a drink, but any longer (or sometimes even shorter) and the little head starts bobbing back and forward and the cries go up. Put him infront of a booby and its like docking the space shuttle - complete with inpenetrable airlock.
How life has changed... Print this post
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