Return of the Dad
Hello peeps. This was a weblog about my partner's pregnancy that ran from March 2004 until the birth of my daughter in September 2004. It limped on for a few more entries, but new-born babies and writing are incompatible. I recently read through the whole blog, which ran to almost 130,000 words, and I decided to take it down, because although the prose in parts of it was just sublime, roughly 53% was so badly written that rereading it made me want to commit suicide. I've therefore re-edited most of it, cut out the overwrought metaphors that made me want to take my own life, and will probably republish it sometime in the next few months.
Thanks to everyone who has sent me messages and those of you who still - according to my site stats - check the site for updates every day.
I've been too busy to write anything new here, until now, what with holding down a job and coping with fatherhood. We're all fine, although we had virtually every baby-related problem you can think of - my daughter is a beautiful yet feisty little cow who deprived us of sleep for nine months; we had big problems with feeding; and my partner had post-natal depression, mostly brought on by the evil breastfeeding tit-Nazi brigade and feelings of inadequacy caused by her failure to follow that bullshit Gina Ford book to the letter ('The Contented Little Baby' is a great book, providing you can persuade your baby to read it). Basically, everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Of course, we got through it all. I've now given up my job and am looking after my daughter full-time as a house-husband; my partner has gone back to work and made a complete recovery from her PND (for which the only cure is to get away from your baby!!!). I must say, looking after my child is not as easy as I thought it would be - I kind of imagined myself as being 'the only Dad at the playgroup' flirting with all the yummy Mummy's and having plenty of time to work on my novel. I've actually spent most of this morning dealing with diarrhoea and nappy rash. My daughter's life at the moment is one long round of joyous defecation, and I am, quite literally, a shit-shoveller by profession. I feel so bitter about it that I might even post a picture of my daughter's arse, just so that you can all see what I'm going through. Maybe I should rename this blog 'Desperate Househusband'.
I do get the odd moment to myself, so i'll probably update again soon.