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So far having a baby is good for my health. Although we have a lot of Ferrero Rocher to get through for some reason (I don’t know why I keep up this contract, my wife has long broken her side of the bargain by eating the chocolates she should be building a pyramid with), we are otherwise eating vegetable-heavy home-cooked food and I am up and down the stairs on at least an hourly basis. Being a dad is not as stationary a job as being a writer, even when I am writing I sometimes have to use my foot to rock Phoebe in her little bouncy chair, so things are active. And one night where I had a couple of delicious calming whiskies aside, I haven’t yet fallen into the trap that most parents tell me is coming, where once the baby is asleep you knock back a bottle or two of wine. It may be coming.
Today I had to drop my car off in Chiswick for a service first thing in the morning and I resolved to have my first post-baby run and jogged the 3 miles home. It was a crisp spring morning, the sun shining coldly through the haze and though I took it relatively easy I kept running all the way and felt mainly awake - apart from when I slightly misjudged the gap as I entered a park and managed to run nipple-first into a high bollard. Usually it’s mums who get aching nipples after birth, but I caught this exactly right to give maximum damage. My nipple was like the Titanic dragging itself against that iceberg and there was not a part of my cold nubbin that did not come into contact with the icy metal bollard. Again it made me question why anyone would willingly want to hurt their nipples during love play. What is wrong with you perverts? Though I suppose it hurt in quite a funny way. All right, I will buy some nipple clamps and try them once, but that’s it.
Given how insensitive my nipples perhaps battering them like a ship’s hull against jagged ice is the only way to make them feel alive.
Later I would also run the 3 miles back to Chiswick and I didn’t feel tired at all (until about 9.30pm when suddenly my energy levels crashed). It would be amazing if I can keep up the training throughout this draining period. Not least because I am running the Royal Parks Half Marathon in October again.
I got the baby monitor up and running quite easily and discovered it has a function where the person out of the room can push a button on the listening device and talk to whoever is near the base unit. I could have a chat with my wife as she fed the baby or listen in to her phone calls and then surprise her with a comment. It was like having walkie talkies which I’ve always wanted and never had. All in all it might have been a cheaper option just to buy a walkie talkie and not have a baby, but it’s one of the perks.
And after all my Post Office woes a company called
Collectplus offered me a free go on their service. It did not provide such entertaining room for disgruntled tweets and the shop I had to take the parcel to is a bit further away than the Post Office, but it was certainly a lot less hassle. Though it felt odd handing over a package in a convenience store and having it stored under the counter. I have entrusted them with the delivery of my Big Daddy costume, so there is a lot resting on this. In terms of creating blogs it’s not up to much though, so I might carry on using the Post Office in the hope it will give me more material.
And people of Ireland, good news, I will be coming to Sligo on the 11th April to give you a 50 minute version of Lord of the Dance Settee, and also recording a podcast with an as yet unannounced guest. More imminently I am gearing up to get back on the road and on Friday I am in Colchester, Saturday I head to Aylesbury, Sunday down to Exeter and Monday my homecoming to Cheddar.
Do come along it you can. My baby is getting through nappies like a shitting pissing demon. Though occasionally she is kind and does an extra wee while she’s being changed to save us the expense.
