I don’t want to knock my gorgeous baby daughter but it has to be said she is pretty useless.
She is uncoordinated, sleepy, inattentive, forgetful and has no idea how to get her own food and no idea how to protect herself.
Leave her on her own for a day and shed starve and if there was a predator nearby (such as a fox or an eagle) she’d be snatched and eaten.Compared to many animals she is hopeless.
Baby rabbits are weaned off their mums when they are just three weeks old and can fend for themselves.Wildebeest calves, and many other grazing animals, are up and running from the word go, to avoid becoming dinner for nearby predators. Newborn dolphins are able to swim immediately.There is even a name for it – precocial – which describes animals that are active form birth, species that are physically mobile and able from the moment of birth or hatching.
Precocial birds, like ducks and chickens, can often feed themselves as soon as mum shows them what is edible.There are even superprecocial birds such as the bush turkey, and scrub fowl that don’t need their parents at all and emerging from the nest fully feathered and able to fly, run, and claw.
This week i am handing over writing the blog to my 6 month old baby girl.
26th Dec Spent the morning sitting in the corner of the sofa playing with my toys and chatting to myself. Sometimes its nice to have me time. Papa took me swimming in the paddling pool. I liked it when we were playing but didn’t when he tried to get me to do my swimming exercises. I cried and he stopped. He can be a real pushover.
27th Dec I love looking at the baby girl in the big mirror on the wall. Its amazing as I move my hand she moves her hand too. When I blow bubbles she does too.
28th Dec At lunch I had sweet potato. It was nice.I am learning how to eat it a bit better now, Although I still like to dribble it out.\r\n\r\nAfter lunch papa took me swimming. I liked playing but didn’t like learning to swim. Papa and mummy had an argument over it. They put me in a blow up ring but I was too small. They then balanced me on top which would have been fun but I fell off into the water and my face went under and I don’t like that. So I cried. Quite a lot. Papa took me to look at some flowers and leaves and that made me calm. Wrapped in a towel I fell asleep on papa’s chest as he lay on the sun lounger reading. It was very nice. Later mummy admitted to papa that she got a bit jealous of how I like to hang out with papa. That’s silly. I love them both very much.
29th Dec I tried to stand up against the sofa today but got a bit cocky and fell over and hit my head. I cried a lot and now have a big red mark on my forehead.\r\n\r\nLater we all lay on the sofa and watched a movie. I liked playing with mummy’s hair. Yesterday I was daddy’s girl. Today I’m mummy s girl. You have to spread your love around.
31st Dec I just love sticking my tongue out I do almost all the time at the moment.We went to a restaurant and mummy and papa made me wear a silly hat. I cried. Then a waitress called me a boy.
1st Jan There were some strange noises coming from mama and papas bedroom last night.Did a poo today and a little bit of it was solid. Papa seemed very happy about it.
2nd Jan I love my food although sometimes I find sucking my bib is more fun. I have worked out that if I fall backwards on the sofa and then thrash around like a dying beetle someone comes and gives me attention.
3rd Jan I had baby rice today. I like eating although I’m not sure I am doing it right. When papa eats (and he seems to eat all the time) he doesn’t seem to make as much mess as me.\r\n\r\nI am still finding learning to crawl hard. I like my tummy time for a while until I become frustrated I cant do it. Today I managed to go round in a circle and go backwards, the trouble was I was really trying to crawl forwards. Its really hard. I am worried I might have inherited papa’s physical awkwardness.I am not so interested in playing with the girl in the mirror. I suspect she might be me.’
All my life I have watched parents pick up crying children and put their child’s head on their shoulders . Before I became a father I always used to think that this was something you read about in a baby manual something that said this is comforting for the child. Now I realise there is another reason.
Sticking your child’s head over your shoulder makes the ear piercing screams goes behind you, over your shoulder, and not right into your ear. It’s the only way to hold them and not have your eardrums in pain.
Whether its actually comforting for the child I am not sure but its certainly more comforting for the parent.
Wifey has jetted off with baby to see her family. I will join her in a couple of weeks but for now I am free! Woo hoo!
I fancy going clubbing, but its been so long I’m not sure I know the names of the drugs anymore.
It gives you the licence to be a kid again. You can play with trains, jump on the bed, make funny noises, make up words and watch kids tv all day.
All things my wife would never let me do before we had baby.
There are so many people in M&S in Soho at lunch time that when you go to pay its like queueing up to get into a football stadium. You are corralled and herded into lines so you can pass the tills at maximum speed. I like it. Its efficient and works because us Brits love a good queue.But today it was different because before i knew it I wasn’t heading for a human I was heading towards the machines.
I am about to face the self scanners. I don’t want the machine, I want a human. I want a nice middle aged lady who takes my money with a smile. In fact I’ll take any type of human even a spotty teenager who is constantly yakking to her mate at the next till about how mashed they got last night. I don’t want to do it myself ,I want someone to do it for me. Its what I pay for. Next they’ll be getting me to make the sandwich myself.\r\n\r\nI’m not good with automated stuff. I have only just mastered chip and pin and still feel pleased with myself everytime the machine says “Pin OK”, looking round for affirmation, like my 6 month year old daughter, expecting the waitress or shopkeeper to give me a little clap for my efforts.\r\n\r\nAs we shuffle forward I can feel my heart speeding up and I start to freak out into a sweat. Its all so intimidating. All those seasoned scanners clutching their focaccias and hand baked crisps and shaking their heads at the people getting it wrong with the scanners, holding up the queue and eating into their precious lunch break. I don’t want to get it wrong.\r\n\r\nI don’t want to be sneared at by the pros. I don’t want the machine to scream at me “WARNING WARNING THERE IS A FOREIGN OBJECT IN THE BAGGING AREA”. I don’t want the flashing light and the buzzer sound “ACHTUNG ACHTUNG THIS MAN IS AN IDIOT”.\r\n\r\nAs the queue shuffles forward I can feel THE FEAR increasing. I clutch my crayfish sandwich and pasta salad tighter and tighter. I consider making a break for it. To make a burst for freedom and head for the human tills. But the queue is too tight and I don’t think I’d be able to battle through the hoards. I crane my neck to watch the people using the machine to try and pick up tips. But I am so nervous I’m not sure I can take it all in.\r\n\r\nThen suddenly I am next. After the man in front with his sesame bar and organic yoghurt, its me. I take a big breath and stride confidently up to the machine. “I am a man.” I whisper under my breath. “You are just a machine. I am your master.”\r\n\r\nI swipe my plastic container with the pasta under the green light and lo and behold there is a beep. I swell with pride. I place it to my right in the plastic bag. My sandwich gets the same confident sweep and the same reassuring beep and green light. Yes. I don’t appear to have any foreign objects in the bagging area. Get In! I press the big PAY button on the screen. I slide my ten pound note into the feeder. It swallows it first time. Woo Hoo. That feels good. There is slight panic when for a second I cant find my change. But before some smug bloke can say “Its below the scanner dummy” I find it. I have my change. I have my salad and sandwich. I still have my dignity. I walk all the way back the office with a spring in my step.
All that beautiful breast on display but not allowed to touch. Its like being permanently in a lap dancing club.
I have just discovered that a father’s parenting skills can have a huge influence on a daughter’s sexual behaviour. A new study by researchers in America has found that daughters of fathers with good parenting skills are less likely to engage in risky sexual behaviour.
“When it comes to girls and their decisions about sex, it turns out a father’s influence really does matter,” says lead author Bruce J. Ellis, of the Norton School of Family and Consumer Sciences at the University of Arizona.Ellis and colleagues looked at 59 pairs of sisters in families in which the parents had divorced and the father moved out, and 42 pairs of sisters from intact families. For girls with divorced parents, older sisters spent an average of 7 more years living with their fathers than their younger sisters did, the study authors noted. “It turned out that it didn’t matter that much how long each daughter lived with her father, but rather what he did when he was there,” Ellis said in the news release. While living for a longer amount of time with a father who provided high-quality parenting reduced the likelihood of risky sexual behavior by daughters, spending more time with a father with poor parenting skills actually increased risky sexual behavior, the investigators found.Risky sexual behaviors include having sex without a condom, having multiple sexual partners, having sex while intoxicated, and becoming pregnant before age 19.
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Baby’s 3 month injections.
I was worried she may have inherited my needle phobia. But she was brilliant. So was the nurse. She had a great bedside manner, and really looked after me when I feinted.
Baby found it very funny especially when the nurse brought me round by shaking the multicoloured baby rattle in my face. The nurse says its her secret weapon with crying babies. I can see why, I was mesmerised by it.
Tempted by the Bottle.
Late night cheese run. Found the breast milk at the back of the fridge. Tempted to have a taste. Fellow fathers of the world is that weird?