That’s what they tell you, isn't it. They’re right too.
In fact, there are lots of examples of those little snippets you heard through adult life that were secretly preparing you for fatherhood. You know the lines I mean: ‘ooh make the most of your lie ins, it’ll all change soon’ and ‘I hope you aren’t planning on keeping the music room, it’ll be full of toys!’* Turns out these two were absolutely spot on.
In fact, when it comes to sleep, I find myself gradually going to bed 15 minutes earlier to wake 15 minutes earlier. I’m currently at 21:45 for a 05:45 start. Noah’s wake up window is dangerously grey now he’s three. Sometimes it’s 05:30, sometimes it’s 06:20. Sometimes I have time to take the dogs out for a stroll. Sometimes the poor guys just have to wait. It’s a real lottery.
Either way I have to get it right. If I’m half way down the lane with the dogs picking up a poo or two and Noah gets up to start the day, he’ll wake Mummy and Millie up in the process. Nobody wants this. This is not positive for anyone’s day. Therefore I have responsibility here, even if it means I will never see the end of a MasterChef episode again.
To get back on track, it is so different with the second. I see this now. Poor Millie didn’t even get the obligatory Insta pic of Daddy carrying her down the hospital hallway, filtered with sepia to add that timeless touch. Mum didn’t even sit in the back with her on the journey home. Speaking of photos, we even discussed the lack of them up the house featuring her. She’s 8 months now! As I type this paragraph, I feel the guilt and it will inevitably be enough for me to spend the evening online frame shopping.
I shouldn’t feel guilty though, it isn’t because she is any less loved or not as good as Noah. She is amazing. I think it’s just that life becomes so much busier when there are two. Not tangibly, I have to add. Not yet. There are no extra nursery runs to factor in or anything like that. It’s more the basics, the little things that add up. Example: the food. Now she’s weaning, it’s another little dish to prepare. A little baby assiette plate of everything the family are having that night.
You forget the cutting rulebook after a while, the choking hazard checklist. Suddenly preparing this little dish means missing the final 15 minutes of Masterchef is not a problem and you are getting all the culinary finesse training you need every day at feeding time.
Throw into the mix a three year old that struggles to keep his bum on the seat during meal times and you have the recipe for a pretty busy little set up. Note that I’ve not even gone there on the cleaning up process. I’m not good with food mess. I tend to sneak away at that point to load the dishwasher or helpfully start running the bath…
On the subject of food, one stand out for me is the relaxed approach we have with Millie. With Noah, we had books. Research. ‘Baby Led Weaning’ was said daily in the countdown (which even featured on my phone calendar) to the day he would sample real food for the first time. I remember the build up so well. The preparation that went into that tablespoon of porridge. The cooling down period so it didn’t burn his little mouth. The perfectly sliced fruit that accompanied it in his little photo friendly bamboo bowl.
If you look closely, I reckon you can still see some of the porridge from that very day, staining the kitchen wall forever.
We kept a food diary too, you know. Noted his first 100 foods. I’m sure one day we’ll take a look back at it. As for Millie, I would estimate she’s already surpassed the 200 mark. She eats everything and absolutely loves her food. And the dog’s, it transpires. She likes that too. It’s dry food, just to confirm. I think it’s important to have that little bit of context. We’ve all tried dry dog food.
I couldn’t tell you what her first food was though. If I had to guess I’d say it would have been a Shreddie. Half firm, half soggy. One that had slipped from Noah’s spoon and fallen onto the floor quite possibly. She would have raced the dogs across the room for it, her beautiful toothless smile beaming. She would have won too. They know the score.
It’s funny how the guilt plays a part too. Picture a sweltering Summer day and Noah being treated to an ice cream. He sits there, slurping away, strawberry swirl running down from his wrist to his elbow. Millie looks up at him, her baby blues sparkling in the sun under her headband. She tries to stand, just to get a little closer to the treat, just to taste it for the first time. Of course we let her. It would be cruel not to.
Such simple sugar sacrilege would never have happened with our first, not a chance. Artisan ice cream from the local farm shop did not make it onto Noah’s list of first 100 foods, I can tell you that without having to check.
When I sat down to write this, I had no idea so many words would be used just to reflect on food. It makes me feel that this is just Part One and actually, this particular title could have a whole range of content. I shall revisit it soon for Part Two.
*This is an absolute result. It meant that although the former Music room, containing two electric guitars, one acoustic and my banjo, could no longer exist in the house, it was moved (promoted) to the garage. Our garage is not joined to our house. Winner.
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