...and she's not kidding either. Pregnancy can apparently cause restless sleep patterns for a woman, which last night were manifested as indeterminate grunts, a whole lot of rolling around and a brief spell of assault against my person (direct slap in the face, direct and forceful knee in the testicles), all of which interrupted a marvellously surreal and totally non-sexual dream in which myself and Bridget Marquardt were chasing Helen's hamster around a clothing store. God knows why - I personally hate "Girls Of The Playboy Mansion" and it's normally the hamster that chases us.
Other than my bleary-eyed state of mild sedation caused by sleep deprivation, all is good with the world. We went to a BBQ at our friends Tara and Massimo's place in Catford on Sunday, a gathering that included 3 kids of various ages (4 weeks, 16 months and 4 1/2 years) which proved a useful education in terms of how big children are at the age of X. Previously I always used the standard blokey method of, "erm, it's about this old (use hands to demonstrate length/height of child) give or take..."
The 16-month-old (or approx. 2'2" if you prefer) toddler was Sam Alger, first child of my university friend Jo and her husband Lee, unknowingly conceived whilst they were travelling which makes him the first child I've ever met who has experienced far eastern beach parties and sky-diving whilst in the womb. They're both superb parents and I was covertly attempting to pick up as many tips as possible, being as I'm still naively praying that nappy changes can be achieved by using a hose from a distance. Watching Lee with his son was a brilliant experience for me in particular - he's just the sort of father I hope I can be come January - and it's helped diminish my ever-decreasing nervousness about parenthood further still.
Still a tad stressed about the whole financing a family scenario as well (will be cracking on with work the second I've posted this) but my parents are being brilliant, offering to store our classic car for a year or two and lending us the money to sort out my current flat on terms that Lloyds TSB can't hope to match. Helen also sensibly points out that if chavs manage to finance parenthood, chain smoking, alcoholism and a fine collection of X-box games on state benefits, we should easily keep our heads afloat on a lowly guitar editors income.
So as I said earlier, all is good with the world! Find myself looking forward to our trip to see the midwife tomorrow morning, ideally after a good nights sleep tonight...
Alex aka Babydaddy
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