Tiny Pin Cushion

It was my turn to take the baby to the doctor’s today. In the waiting room there were many other babies, buggies and gurgles. I recognised a couple from the hospital, who had their boy on the same day that my daughter was born. He was sitting there in a white sleep suit, tiny dome-like baldy head, wee legs waggling. When I lifted my daughter out of her pram, a great long thing with a full head of hair and a snappy pair of dungarees on they must have thought ‘What the fuck?!!’

That’s right. The baby is huge. I stripped the baby off and the health visitor put her on the scales. In the nip, she weighs in at 14lbs 11oz. That is over a stone. The couple in the waiting room must have been worried that my daughter was going to eat their kid.

The baby started to cry as I fiddled her vest back on. It was as if she knew what was coming. The health visitor got me to sit the baby on my lap, and I held her hands as the health visitor injected her in one leg. She started to scream. The health visitor then injected her in the other leg. The baby, the poor little pudding that she is, could only sit there with her hands in mine as the second needle went in. There were real tears and everything.

Party's Over

The Christmas decorations came down yesterday. The holidays are over and I can no longer justify sitting about drinking. Despite our new arrival we managed to have a merry Christmas, entertaining lots of people, on one occasion even providing a pot of soup for seven, count them seven, people. (I bet you didn’t think I could make soup, did you? See, I’m a proper househusband). Having a baby does not necessarily mean the death of your social life. In fact, people seem to enjoy coming round and playing with the baby, probably because it’s easier than having one of their own, they can always give her back when they are finished. All the fun with none of the nappies or crying.

Now, as I have said, the holidays are over, and I am not looking forward to taking all the empties to the bottle bank. On the up-side, I now have a sturdy pram to transport them all in, but anyone who saw me pulling all those wine bottles out from under the pram would probably phone social services. I could make two trips, split the difference as it were, but if I was observed by the same person each time it would look even worse. It’s a real dilemma.

Today Lynne took the baby to the doctors’ for the first time. I stayed here. Lynne put a white shirt on, dressed the baby in some fancy clothes and then dropped her lunch on her. It was beans. Fortunately the beans landed in the pattern on the baby’s dress, so you couldn’t really see it. Then, with the baby in a big pink bear suit, they went to the doctors’.

My daughter got her first injections. They covered a dizzying range of illness, polio, tetanus, whooping cough, diphtheria, and so on. She had one in each leg. Poor mite. One in each leg! I bet she cried like a fire alarm.