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Monday, March 21, 2016

Card bard

Mindful that the second child's baby book is usually a lot emptier than the first's (though possibly not in our case, as I was pretty slack first time around too), I thought we should do something different just for the second child, so we invested in some cute-but-slightly twee milestones cards. They look like this.




There are various milestones included in the pack - smiling for the first time, sleeping through the night, first steps and so on. It got me thinking that there's definitely a gap in the market for new parents too.

So I have created some prototypes:



I think I would probably have used this card every three days at best in the early days. When you finally do get round to it, it feels like the most luxurious thing you've ever done, and a bit like spending three days in a spa does to normal people. I imagine. I have never willingly been to a spa. It looks a bit boring.



This just isn't going to happen. Babies are instinctively trained to exterminate potential siblings and will start a mammoth meltdown at the tiniest hint of an erection. That sentence sounds incredibly wrong. Long story short, I think TheBloke (TM) may have escaped a vasectomy in favour of enforced abstinence.


I found myself in the position earlier this week of needing a poo. The baby also wanted to spend time with me and was wailing on her playmat. Reader, I positioned her Bumbo facing me on the toilet so she could see me whilst I shat. This, reader, this, is parenting. (And for non-parents, this is a Bumbo.) I look forward to be able to holding up this card. My three year-old still likes to walk in to "watch". If this is her only entertainment, maybe we ought to spring for the Disney channel after all.


Oddly, ever since I answered the door to our postman with one knocker out, we now seem to get a second post as well as a third and fourth. Not really. He actually changed his route and we now have a female post person. I haven't scared her with my tits yet. I did however answer the door to the Tesco delivery man last week not only with my bra on total display, but with my jeans fly unzipped as well. I expect they have a list with people like me on it.




At 10.45 p.m. last night, I told the baby to fuck off. I am not proud of this, but it happened. She stuck around anyway though, and we've made up since.

Everyone complains about babies sleeping. I saw one woman online complain that her 12 week old baby wakes up at 5 a.m. Ours wakes up every 20 minutes. Every fucking 20 minutes. During the day, during the night. (Hence the "fuck off" at 10.45 p.m. last night.) I cannot have a night off because I'm breastfeeding. This is all fine. This too will pass. But I am looking forward to holding up this card with the smuggest well-rested face in the land.

But, in the meantime... Small victories.