Perhaps it's nature's way of preparing one for impending parenthood but it's difficult to fathom a reason why, of late, neither of us can get more than a few hours of sleep a night. What's more is that our dreams (or nightmares as they would be more accurately described) are in sync which doesn't lend itself to a great nights sleep. Most vivid bizarre dreams too. Last night I woke up in a stress because I had missed my flight to Ireland, and couldn't find the key to someone else's front door. It was the 4th flight of the week because, for some reason, I'd been flying out there every day. How utterly random!
So many people have said to me, "enjoy your full nights of sleep while they last, because you won't get any soon." What full nights of sleep? The only good nights of sleep I've had are the ones where Suz and I have been in separate rooms. It's odd that the synching doesn't seem to pass through walls. It's like Suzy's bluetooth doesn't quite have the range to span to the next room.
Don't get me wrong, it's still joyous to behold this wonderful thing blessing my life. I just wish the run up to parent intentional was not paved with such a lack of sleep.
On a lighter note, baby based procurement is well and truly in full swing now and it's quite surreal to have a pram sat in the kitchen, with 3 and a bit months to go before the baby is transported to the other side. We even have a wardrobe, shelves, and a chest of drawers dedicated to Baby Reed. Thankfully 50% of the relationship is unlike me as, had it been left to me to plan, we would be 'popping in' to Tesco's on the way to labour to get some nappies. Seriously, we would.
Sunday 4 April 2010
Saturday 3 April 2010
Trimester? I thought that was a term in an American School?
Benjamin Franklin said, "A ship under sail and a big-bellied woman, are the handsomest two things that can be seen common." Of course, he was referring to pregnancy. From afar, perhaps a large waddling pregnant woman isn't the most attractive of sights, but to see that growth and to contemplate on the reasons behind the waddle make it one of the most beautiful things imaginable. Perhaps this is not the case for the person carrying, but I doubt there are a great deal of people in this world who actually consider themselves beautiful and take a daily look in the mirror and think 'yes, I am deeply attractive.' Seeing Suzanne fills me with joy because the visual impact spells out the future to come, and what's more, a future that I had a hand in creating, and one that I am 50% responsible for carving out. A more magical feeling there is not.
23 weeks have passed since that phone call in York, and pregnancy is now the topic of everywhere we go together. Be it the baby kicking and those around us fascination with said kicking or Suzanne's incessant need for the toilet, it's at the forefront of everything we do. As weeks go by, parts of our lives are changing. From a new car to a re-arrangement of furniture to suit a newborn baby, everything around us centers around only one thing.
And that's where we catch up to the now, and this actually becomes a blog! Who knows if I will keep updating. Who knows if anyone will actually read this. But I hope I do, and I hope you do.
23 weeks have passed since that phone call in York, and pregnancy is now the topic of everywhere we go together. Be it the baby kicking and those around us fascination with said kicking or Suzanne's incessant need for the toilet, it's at the forefront of everything we do. As weeks go by, parts of our lives are changing. From a new car to a re-arrangement of furniture to suit a newborn baby, everything around us centers around only one thing.
And that's where we catch up to the now, and this actually becomes a blog! Who knows if I will keep updating. Who knows if anyone will actually read this. But I hope I do, and I hope you do.
Parenthood Intentional
He loved three things alone:
White peacocks, evensong,
Old maps of America.
He hated children crying,
And raspberry jam with his tea,
And womanish hysteria.
… And he married me
Words penned by Anna Akhmatova, a Russian Poet. Words that I simply adore, not particularly because I like Russian Poets, no, because those words convey a sense of understanding between her and the person whom she loved and they are reflective of my life with Suzanne, and I have no doubt, every other person that is married. You see, when you get married you begin to realise that your love for your partner is not just based on commonality but on things you actually don't agree on. It's what makes for enthused debate and it's oft' what brings colour to the relationship. Agreeance (I know, it's not a word, but remember, my blog. So ner.) on everything creates a sort of muted dull pasture for your relationship to graze on and is unlikely to contribute to a fruitful and happy relationship.
But there are exceptions. In my case it was the want for more children. That's children intentional, as oppose to children inherited. I married at 24, which I always felt was the right age, but I had never given much thought as to what age I thought was best to have children. I never felt grown up enough at 24, nor 25, nor 26 for that matter. It began to dawn on me however that it was not a numerical restriction I was facing, it was my own attitude to parenthood and that I felt I was either not ready or perhaps unwilling to take on further commitment. I was holding on to what every boy desperately clings on to; childhood. If I had a child of my own, it meant I will have left something behind. I would become the parent. The prospect of this terrified me. I had lost so much of my childhood owing to domestic carnage in my family and the resulting necessity to completely grow up in my early teens. I was under the notion that I could re-do what I missed. Live out the life I lost. But as time passed I realised that what's behind you is just that; water under the bridge if you will. Time does not stand still for any man, woman, or child, but there is a saving grace. That grace is that becoming a parent doesn't mean you have to properly grow up. It was the visit of my sister in law and her children (and probably more apt, her husband, who is yet to grow up) that convinced me of this. It was then that I made the decision to enter into the realm of parenthood intentional.
A few months passed, then a year, then a year and a few months and it happened. Suzanne fell pregnant. The glee I felt the day she told me couldn't ever be put into words. It's simply something you have to experience for yourself to understand. I was in York, away with work, and I can remember every sight, smell and movement of that moment when she called me. Truly blissful.
White peacocks, evensong,
Old maps of America.
He hated children crying,
And raspberry jam with his tea,
And womanish hysteria.
… And he married me
Words penned by Anna Akhmatova, a Russian Poet. Words that I simply adore, not particularly because I like Russian Poets, no, because those words convey a sense of understanding between her and the person whom she loved and they are reflective of my life with Suzanne, and I have no doubt, every other person that is married. You see, when you get married you begin to realise that your love for your partner is not just based on commonality but on things you actually don't agree on. It's what makes for enthused debate and it's oft' what brings colour to the relationship. Agreeance (I know, it's not a word, but remember, my blog. So ner.) on everything creates a sort of muted dull pasture for your relationship to graze on and is unlikely to contribute to a fruitful and happy relationship.
But there are exceptions. In my case it was the want for more children. That's children intentional, as oppose to children inherited. I married at 24, which I always felt was the right age, but I had never given much thought as to what age I thought was best to have children. I never felt grown up enough at 24, nor 25, nor 26 for that matter. It began to dawn on me however that it was not a numerical restriction I was facing, it was my own attitude to parenthood and that I felt I was either not ready or perhaps unwilling to take on further commitment. I was holding on to what every boy desperately clings on to; childhood. If I had a child of my own, it meant I will have left something behind. I would become the parent. The prospect of this terrified me. I had lost so much of my childhood owing to domestic carnage in my family and the resulting necessity to completely grow up in my early teens. I was under the notion that I could re-do what I missed. Live out the life I lost. But as time passed I realised that what's behind you is just that; water under the bridge if you will. Time does not stand still for any man, woman, or child, but there is a saving grace. That grace is that becoming a parent doesn't mean you have to properly grow up. It was the visit of my sister in law and her children (and probably more apt, her husband, who is yet to grow up) that convinced me of this. It was then that I made the decision to enter into the realm of parenthood intentional.
A few months passed, then a year, then a year and a few months and it happened. Suzanne fell pregnant. The glee I felt the day she told me couldn't ever be put into words. It's simply something you have to experience for yourself to understand. I was in York, away with work, and I can remember every sight, smell and movement of that moment when she called me. Truly blissful.
Friday 2 April 2010
Parenthood Inherited.
Suz and I married, and moved in together. That's kind of what happens, normally.
What doesn't normally happen is that you become a parent, instantly. You see Suzanne had a child from her past marriage, Devin, who was 5. I had an idea what marriage would be like, I had an idea what living with someone would be like, I had no idea what parenthood was like. I didn't even have younger brothers or sisters to use as a metric. My three sisters were at least 9 years older than me. I was thrust into a world at the end where the olympic diving boards were placed. I wasn't afforded the option of a gentle ease in, nor was I given the opportunity to see how it went. This was it. For good.
I am pleased to say that as months progressed, as years went by (3 and a half as I write this) things went remarkably well. Yes, we suffered trials and tribulations; being a step dad is not easy. You are oft' between a rock and hard place, being unsure of your true place in the scheme of things and often at the peril of the diposition of 'the other side' family, but, that aside, it's something that can enrich and enhance your life in a way I could never have imagined.
So with parenthood inherited under my belt I was left with only one logical forward step. Become a real dad. And this is where this blog shall begin.
What doesn't normally happen is that you become a parent, instantly. You see Suzanne had a child from her past marriage, Devin, who was 5. I had an idea what marriage would be like, I had an idea what living with someone would be like, I had no idea what parenthood was like. I didn't even have younger brothers or sisters to use as a metric. My three sisters were at least 9 years older than me. I was thrust into a world at the end where the olympic diving boards were placed. I wasn't afforded the option of a gentle ease in, nor was I given the opportunity to see how it went. This was it. For good.
I am pleased to say that as months progressed, as years went by (3 and a half as I write this) things went remarkably well. Yes, we suffered trials and tribulations; being a step dad is not easy. You are oft' between a rock and hard place, being unsure of your true place in the scheme of things and often at the peril of the diposition of 'the other side' family, but, that aside, it's something that can enrich and enhance your life in a way I could never have imagined.
So with parenthood inherited under my belt I was left with only one logical forward step. Become a real dad. And this is where this blog shall begin.
Where it all began
Before I got married I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children, and no theories. John Wilmot, poet and second earl of Rochester uttered those very words some 300 years ago. Words which stand completely upright and true today. I know this, because I became an 'inherited parent' some 4 years ago. You see, I met this girl called Suzanne, and the rest, as they say, is history.
This blog is a story, portrayal, whatever you'd like to call it of those 4 years and eventually I'll catch up to today and actually write a blog, rather than a precursor (I know, precursor is the wrong word to use, but it's my blog, so ner.)
Where DID it begin, oh Paulie? I hear you ask. Well I'll tell you.
"You need a woman. No offense, but you're not the kind of person who can live a single life." Words uttered by Chris, who would become my best man less than a year later. He was right, I did need a woman in my life. I had however spent nearly a year with nobody and had resigned myself to the boyfriend dustbin. You see, I'm an odd character, idiosyncratic, goofy looking, portly; I'm hardly Mr Pitt, and I settled for this, not wishing to change the way I was or looked in a vain effort to attract a mate. No, I thought to myself, she will come, and she will like me for who I am. Except she didn't come, despite my best efforts to seek her out, she was not there. I gave up. Single life can't be that bad, I thought. No, correction, I tried to convince myself despite not believing it for a second. I met a few girls, they liked me, I liked them, and then it flopped, spectacularly. I was no good at this.
Several months passed and I became friends with Steve, someone my own age, someone equally as lonely and resigned. Steve and I spent a fair bit of time together and eventually I ended up being introduced to his friend, who was about to move to Ireland. Suzanne was a divorcee, had a little boy aged 4 and was about to move to Ireland. Three things that, in theory, put her out of the availability circle. Something about her intrigued me though, something about how she interacted with people, how she seemed so comfortable in herself. Not only did this intrigue me, it also attracted me in a way I'd never been attracted to someone before. Weeks passed, and we saw more and more of each other and the reality that she was moving to Ireland struck me hard enough for me to think very carefully about how I actually felt about her. I was smitten, in love if you will, and I felt that if I didn't make a move now, I would lose her to the bouncing Leprechaun's and Guinness. So I told her how I felt. I'll spare you the fodder in between (not that it was fodder of course, should Suzanne be reading this; it was actually a most enjoyable part of my life, but I'm sure nobody is interested in reading it) but the conclusion was that we were married a few months later. Suzy never did move to Ireland, by the way. Their loss my gain!
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