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I wish I had some military training

It’s week two of my little man being here, and I think two things regularly: Firstly, I think he is getting more handsome as each day passes—the little lady killer, and secondly, I love him more than yesterday although yesterday I didn’t think I could love him more than I did. I’m guessing there will...

downloadIt’s week two of my little man being here, and I think two things regularly: Firstly, I think he is getting more handsome as each day passes—the little lady killer, and secondly, I love him more than yesterday although yesterday I didn’t think I could love him more than I did. I’m guessing there will be a trend developing there. But that’s pretty much the only two things I can think. Everything else is lost in a sea of nappy changes, ungodly wake up times in the night, learning how to sterilize bottles, dressing my baby boy (who hates it) and convincing myself that everything is fine and he is breathing when all is quiet during the night.
Usually I’m of pretty sound mind and am able to process things.
Yesterday I put a tea bag on a piece of toast and tried to spread it!
Because of my partner recovering from the saga of Ben’s arrival, it has been a week in which we have stayed at home receiving friends and family, so they can coo over Ben and see how my partner is doing. However, we did venture out on day nine for a newborn photo shoot.
It has left me wishing I had some military training.
Before life in which I was preparing to be a dad, I was a pretty easy going kind of guy. I didn’t worry about timings or stress about having the right equipment. I once flew to Italy for an overnight trip because I fancied a pizza and spent two weeks hiking though Europe on my own with only a tent on my back to cover my sleeping arrangements. I didn’t even have a map, just headed to what I guessed was west to guide me home.
Those days are now long gone!
Our photo shoot, which was called “Operation first outing” was booked for zero nine hundred hours (using my army talk taken straight out of the movies), and we couldn’t be late. Our alarm (Ben) woke us two and a half hours before for a feed, change and cuddle, and all systems were go. Never before have I considered synchronizing watches, but with both of us needing to shower and dress, as well as bath and dress our little man, not to mention eat, have a cup of tea, fill the car up with fuel, load the car up with the stroller and bits and be out of the house before 8:45, I could understand why people do it. Everything had to be planned to the final detail of who was doing what and when for this near impossible task to happen. Things started to go well, we both managed to shower with our little man dozing firstly on my chest then in her arms, but then disaster struck.
When I say disaster I really mean something quite lovely happened.
Ben woke up and wanted play time, stopping both of us in our tracks. We love play time. He engages with us, keeps eye contact and although not smiling I can see in his eyes he is happy. It’s the best, but it was not accounted for in “Operation first outing.”
It cost us 20 minutes in our mastermind plan.
Then he needed another nappy change.
Then he wanted a feed.
Needless to say, we were late, but only by a matter of minutes. Somehow we pulled it off, and we have some beautiful pictures of our little man. But it does worry me that in a world of deadlines and meeting times, are we ever going to be on time again or do we have to concede that from now on lateness is the new early?
Ironically, I guess only time will tell.

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