It’s raining like hell so I don’t think we will be going on our big mission to the outside today. That was the plan, Lynne and the baby haven’t left the house since they came back from the hospital and we wanted to try out the sling thing, see whether Lynne could manage the stairs yet (we live on the top floor of an old red sandstone tenement), and just generally show the neighbourhood that even though we have a baby we won’t be pricking about the shops in matching waterproofs. We are not sponsored by Northface.
Lynne is asleep, as per the morning routine. The baby is in her bouncy chair, hiccupping. She does this a lot, because her diaphragm is not strong enough yet, but she doesn’t seem bothered. I couldn’t hiccup for as long as she can without getting really angry about it, but she can eat or fall asleep in the middle of a bout. That’s a life skill, remaining calm during prolonged hiccupping. Another life skill she has picked up is less positive. She still doesn’t cry much but she has discovered that if she gurgles as if she’s choking in the middle of the night it gets us out of bed and all the lights on far more effectively than anything else she could do.
As I changed the baby this morning I noticed that the umbilical cord, a scabby bit of black pudding with a white plastic clip on it that hangs from the baby’s navel, well that has started to come away. Its all gummy underneath, and I still can’t make out how the belly button is going to turn out. As I write this, I am looking out, through savage gusts of rain blowing against the window, into an iron sky and wondering if I can bring myself to love a child with an outie belly button.
That’s a joke. What isn’t a joke is that Lynne’s sister came to visit and I’m pretty sure she saw my balls. Yesterday morning I was up in my dressing gown and boxers changing the baby. Lynne’s sister was at the head end, cooing and shaking the baby’s little hands, that sort of thing, while I did the business. It was a prolonged operation that required an entire change of wardrobe, and towards the end of the procedure I glanced down to see my knob and balls hanging out of the leg of my shorts, all red and crinkly. They had been there for God knows how long. I put myself away as surreptitiously as possible, and Lynne’s sister didn’t seem to have noticed, but that’s the kind of thing where if you don’t say something straight away it never gets mentioned again. I eyed her suspiciously for the rest of the day, but she never gave anything away. She was playing it cool. She left last night, before the rain started.
Lynne is asleep, as per the morning routine. The baby is in her bouncy chair, hiccupping. She does this a lot, because her diaphragm is not strong enough yet, but she doesn’t seem bothered. I couldn’t hiccup for as long as she can without getting really angry about it, but she can eat or fall asleep in the middle of a bout. That’s a life skill, remaining calm during prolonged hiccupping. Another life skill she has picked up is less positive. She still doesn’t cry much but she has discovered that if she gurgles as if she’s choking in the middle of the night it gets us out of bed and all the lights on far more effectively than anything else she could do.
As I changed the baby this morning I noticed that the umbilical cord, a scabby bit of black pudding with a white plastic clip on it that hangs from the baby’s navel, well that has started to come away. Its all gummy underneath, and I still can’t make out how the belly button is going to turn out. As I write this, I am looking out, through savage gusts of rain blowing against the window, into an iron sky and wondering if I can bring myself to love a child with an outie belly button.
That’s a joke. What isn’t a joke is that Lynne’s sister came to visit and I’m pretty sure she saw my balls. Yesterday morning I was up in my dressing gown and boxers changing the baby. Lynne’s sister was at the head end, cooing and shaking the baby’s little hands, that sort of thing, while I did the business. It was a prolonged operation that required an entire change of wardrobe, and towards the end of the procedure I glanced down to see my knob and balls hanging out of the leg of my shorts, all red and crinkly. They had been there for God knows how long. I put myself away as surreptitiously as possible, and Lynne’s sister didn’t seem to have noticed, but that’s the kind of thing where if you don’t say something straight away it never gets mentioned again. I eyed her suspiciously for the rest of the day, but she never gave anything away. She was playing it cool. She left last night, before the rain started.
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