Like many people in the same situation, I found myself utterly unprepared. A life-changing upgrade of responsibility from what had been a company of two became a crowd of three. Six months ago, a tiny meteorite exploded out from inner space with the kind of impact that would have had Bruce Willis opting to stay at home and have a cup of tea instead.
The Small Human appeared. With constantly twiddling feet (seriously, these feet never stop spinning on their ankles), this tiny simulacrum has changed, and continues to change, a previous existence that was busy but still my own. Spare days and evenings spent generally gadding about have swiftly reduced into the very occasional minor gad in which we have to make sure we are home by ten. I even occasionally check the stitching of my pockets as I am convinced that the Small Human has managed to get a pair of scissors to them… they certainly seem emptier than before.
But it seems I was the only one to be unprepared for this collision. I continue to marvel at the assuredness that my wife continues to exude, while I am still stumbling through this adjustment. The differences between a Mamas & Papas Urbo and an iCandy Cherry still mystify me. I mean, they’re just prams, right? How different can they be? Apparently quite a bit and if I couldn’t see this then clearly I was an idiot.
And then there was that first day at home. I was still reeling, punch-drunk from the otherworldliness of this new reality as I brought the pair of them through the door, psyching myself up to become the ultimate daddy and… I hit a blank. What do I do next? What’s the next action required?
I’m pretty sure there must be a book to help. There was, but I had totally failed to get around to reading it thinking that there was plenty of time to do that before the small human arrived. Apparently, making sure there’s a bottle of bubbly in the fridge and having a cigar in my pocket doesn’t constitute a prepared modern man. The fact I don’t even smoke made it all the more pointless.
But it wasn’t too long before changing nappies, feeding and going out solo with the small human became easier though, upon reflection, taking a four month old to the Imperial War Museum garnered me some odd looks. While our little three’s crowd certainly requires more careful consideration than I was initially ready for, I wouldn’t have it any other way.