10-a-day

You've got to get a bargain when you see one haven't you?

W: I bought some nappies on the way home.
Me: What? We've still got two months!
W: They were on offer.
Me: OK...
W: Besides, we need to take some with us when we go into hospital.
Me: I suppose it's good to have one or two with us.
W: They come in packs of 35.
Me: They don't!
W: They do – look! (she shows me the pack)
Me: 35!
W: Yeah (smiles)
Me: 35! I thought they might in packs of six or something.
W: We could go through up to 10-a-day.
Me: Wow.

Wow...

A Trimester-by-Trimester Guide to Diplomacy

The world of compliments is fraught with danger.

1st Trimester - the usual rules of compliments don't apply
W: (lifting up t-shirt) Am I showing?
Me: No, you look fine.
W: There should be something there surely?
Me: I suppose you look a little bigger.
W: Are you saying I've put on weight?
Me: Er... no? (pause) Yes?

(my internal monologue) Help!

2nd Trimester - getting it right
W: My jeans don't fit anymore
Me: Oh no!
W: See? I look sooo big.
Me: You don't look big you look pregnant darling.

Smiles all round.

3rd Trimester - back to square one
W: I don't feel as vast as I usually do.
M: Really?

Wrong answer.

Dadscape

I went out to a restaurant the other night with the other 'pregnant Dads' (MiL's phrase) from the NCT group. We're a pleasant mix of the enthusiastic, unprepared and downright bewildered. Or so it seems... we seem to be keeping the actual level of readiness hidden behind a veil of manly indifference.

Me: So, have you got all 'the equipment' yet?
Dad 1: No, not really. You?
Me: One or two things – a pushchair and a cot.
Dad 1: That's pretty organised...
Me: (feeling smug) Yeah well...
Dad 1: Cos we've only got a Moses basket, a rocker and... er, we decorated the room with a proper border and lots of pictures for the little one.
Me: That's actually quite a lot.
Dad 1: Have you not done that yet?
Me: Well, we've made a start on the decorating... and er, booked him into a nursery for a year's time (turning to someone else) How about you? All ready to meet the challenge of fatherhood?
Dad 2: I feel like I don't know very much.
Me: I've actually been reading a book about soothing crying babies.
Dad 2: Like when they get colic, get tired or overstimulated? You can try shushing them – make them feel like they're back in the womb. White noise works too.
Me: Er, yes, that's it. Spot on.

And so on...

The Good, The Blood and The Fluffy [towels]

Our NCT class has encouraged us to think about ways the baby might be born, especially after we watched a DVD of a water birth.

Me: I'm coming to realise that the whole process of giving birth is not as clean as they show it in the movies.
W: In films, the woman's nearly always on her back for a start...
Me: There's doesn't seem to be much blood...
W: It's all over in minutes...
Me: And there's really no need for so many towels surely? Why do they always need to get more towels?
W: You've been watching too many westerns. Hot water to sterilise things and towels to... well... to mop up blood?
Me: The blood that they don't show.
W: Yeah! It could also be to wrap up the baby.
Me: Sounds sensible to me.
W: Or just to give the Dad something to do.
Me: You think I don't know where the towels are stored?
W: At home, yes. But where are they in the hospital?
Me: I haven't a clue. I'd have to go and find them..... aha!
W: You know where they're kept?
Me: Nope, but it's just a ploy isn't it? In the westerns, I mean.
W: You've got it.
Me: Well I'm staying with you. Seeing you through it. Doing all the breathing and everything.
W: Lovely.

Bump

I like posing questions to W...

Me: So what does it feel like to have a football up your sweater?
W: It's not a football! It just feels heavy.
Me: Must be strange.
W: Sometimes I don't realise it's there and then I look down...
Me: Heh!
W: ...and think 'oh yes, I remember now!'
Me: And the bump seems to be getting harder too.
W: He's doing his best to break through. This morning he had one limb wedged under my rib and was bouncing against my pelvis with abandon.
Me: Oh sweetheart... and walking about gets harder?
W: Well I haven't started waddling yet if that's what you mean
Me: Waddle? I didn't say waddle. Who said waddle? You. Do not. Waddle.
W: I like to be aware of my posture.
Me: You look lovely.

And that is the truth.

A Walk in the Park

Our 'push-chair' arrived the other day. That's what I've been calling it anyway. W prefers 'stroller', which I quite like too because it somehow makes the prospect of parenthood 'a walk in the park'. 'Pram' doesn't quite describe it and I bet no one has said 'perambulator' since the 19th century. Of course, the manufacturer has its own way of describing their product:

 

A future conversation might go something like this... 

Me: I'm just taking junior out in the infant travel solution. We're going to the park.
W: Don't you mean the 'local recreation amenity'?
Me: Yes, that's the one, and I'm going to be very careful crossing the 'vehicle access routes' as I go. In fact, I'll keep to the 'pedestrian delivery mechanisms'.
W: Enjoy your perambulations!

Inside

 As a man, I feel I should try to find out as much as I can... 

Me: So what's it feel like? All that kicking?
W: It's kinda weird.
Me: My mum said that I moved about a lot when she was having me.
W: Oh, so that's where he gets it from.
Me: Is it anything like this?

W: Yes, that's it.