As I sat in the pub last night with a pint of London Pride and some other parents-to-be (whom Karen and I met through the local NCT ante-natal program), I realised that I’ve been terribly, terribly wasteful.
Since October, the composition of my life has been changing gradually but dramatically. I’ve been making preparations for the arrival of the baby, figuring out how it will fit into my life, looking forward to all the exciting experiences that we will share, learning how to support Karen through pregnancy and labour, making new friends at ante-natal classes, deflecting the attempts made by my boss to induce despair, deflecting surplus advice… all this and more, but would you know it by looking at this site?
Would you, boat.
I haven’t been writing in my offline diary much lately either. I guess I’ve been so busy *thinking* and *doing*, there hasn’t been much time left for *recording*.
And as I sat in the pub last night and was struck by the realisation that it’s too late now to really do anything about it, I wondered if it mattered. Will I look back on this period and think “My, my, good times, why did I not log them more carefully?” or is this just the prelude to something greater? Is this pre-fatherhood period a journey in itself, or just a means to get to a screaming little destination?
But then maybe these are just the last few moments of “freedom” before the great responsibility arrives ((a responsibility which, I have no hesitation in adding, I relish with open arms)) and by focussing on *thinking* and *doing*, rather than *recording*, I am doing **exactly the right thing**.
So, in conclusion, I guess I could have fed you anecdotes and insights and all sorts of nuggets that would allow me to look back on this period with clarity and accuracy, but you know what? I’ve been busy.
Looking into the future, babies rapidly grow into children and then into sullen teenagers and then into parents themselves. Though the ultimate destination is significant (basically the continued existence of the human race), the journey is undoubtedly of great importance. I will be watching the creature develop and pass milestones, from the small (his first smile!) to the medium (his first words!) to the huge (his first hangover!). People often say “I wish that I’d taken more photos” when they realise that once the baby hit 2 years old, they fell out of the habit and allowed its development to go undocumented for years after that.
Now, I’m not one of those people who feels that everything needs to be documented (oh, you noticed?) because more than once I’ve ruined a good day out by spending the whole time staring at the LCD of a digital camera. But there are some things that you only get one shot at. Maybe in 20 years it will all still be crystal clear in my head, but I doubt it. It’s more likely that I’ll regret the gaps in the documented history, and I’ll wish that I’d taken five minutes every few months to get out the camera, wave Yellowphant in front of the child, and capture one of those moments of a youthfulness that will be all-too-quickly demolished by the cruelties of the world.
