It is an oft used term, my punkling, for people to talk about the first ninety days of something. For people to use that period of time as a guage for how well something is progressing. Three months, pumpkin, is seen as long enough for something to happen.
This three months, pumpkin, is the period on which everything has to get ready for you.
Activity is beginning to build in our house, activity that will culminate in your arrival. Activity, pumpkin, that is directed solely towards ensuring that your home environment, when you get here, is as beautiful, safe, educational and well rounded as we can possibly make it.
To that end, a kid needs a bed, so it was BACK to the Giant Purveyors of BabyGoods for more pain.
Hang on, I think I need to backtrack a bit.
Your grandfather Phil, pumpkin, is one of the world's more... particular people. He likes some things and doesn't like some others. He can be relied upon, then, to give you an honest and open opinion when you ask.
Phil also has a great eye for craftsmanship, so when he called me and said that he had found you a cot, I was delighted. Obviously, he had seen the indifferent quality of much of the little person furniture being foisted on the general public, and was gratified to notice something that fell outside that realm.
Unfortunately, pumpkin, Phil lives on the Other Side Of The World.
Getting something from his house to our house is a formidable proposition, and one that can cost a considerable amount of money. Getting a PERSON from his house to our house takes enough time and money, let alone a large piece of heavy wooden furniture.
The shipping costs, therefore, were to say the least prohibitive.
Cue your grandmother on the phone to me, saying that I would have to find a cot for you.
to be continued
February 06, 2005
February 04, 2005
Is a pumpkin shared a pumpkin halved?
One of the problems with a pregnancy, pumpkin, is that its toll is primarily exacted on only one half of the two people involved.
Sure, I'm having issues with worrying about making sure that I'm going to make enough money to keep you in trainsets and overalls, but it's your mum who has to lump you around for nine months and put up with all the other assorted ickiness that is being pregnant.
It's tough for me to work out how to help.
There are, of course, these devices known as empathy bellies, but to my mind they conjure up images of men who were entirely TOO involved in the pregnancy. I mean, really, how would ME lugging a pumpkin around help your mum anyway?
So I'm left with the standbys. I rub cocoa butter on her belly. I lay my hand there to feel you jumping about like you're a mexican jumping bean (whose movement, incidentally, is caused by the larvae of a moth that hatches inside the bean). I rub her giant feet, and tell her she's beautiful.
Beyond that, pumpkin, I'm out of ideas, but I wish for just one day I could hold you myself and carry you round, to give her a day off from feeling swollen and achey and heavy and cumbersome.
Touching her belly and feeling you move through her skin, I want to reach inside and touch you, to hold you in my arms so she can get some sleep.
Love you.
Sure, I'm having issues with worrying about making sure that I'm going to make enough money to keep you in trainsets and overalls, but it's your mum who has to lump you around for nine months and put up with all the other assorted ickiness that is being pregnant.
It's tough for me to work out how to help.
There are, of course, these devices known as empathy bellies, but to my mind they conjure up images of men who were entirely TOO involved in the pregnancy. I mean, really, how would ME lugging a pumpkin around help your mum anyway?
So I'm left with the standbys. I rub cocoa butter on her belly. I lay my hand there to feel you jumping about like you're a mexican jumping bean (whose movement, incidentally, is caused by the larvae of a moth that hatches inside the bean). I rub her giant feet, and tell her she's beautiful.
Beyond that, pumpkin, I'm out of ideas, but I wish for just one day I could hold you myself and carry you round, to give her a day off from feeling swollen and achey and heavy and cumbersome.
Touching her belly and feeling you move through her skin, I want to reach inside and touch you, to hold you in my arms so she can get some sleep.
Love you.
February 01, 2005
Mr Watson, come here, I want you
Much has been written in the annals of history, my darling pumpkin, about the effects on society of the telephone.
That was mostly, in my opinion, because none of those erstwhile authors had the opportunity to witness the joy provided by the Bellyphone(tm).
The Bellyphone(tm) is accessed via a close personal relationship with your wonderful mother. To use the Bellyphone(tm),one leans close to her beautiful belly, places one's lips on her belly button, and says in a loud, clear voice "Hello pumpkin, this is your father speaking.".
When last I spoke to you in this manner, it was to tell you of the arrival of Australia Day. Obviously to reiterate what I said at that time will be semi-extraneous, but we must be loyal, pumpkin, to our ever expanding audience of Lovely Readers.
On the Bellyphone on Australia Day, my words to you were about your nationality, about patriotism. About the fact that you will be blessed with a dual nationality on birth, a trait you will share with many of your relatives. There was at one time a push by your father to become the first in the family to hold triple nationalities, but this fell by the wayside when he returned from the US in 1997.
Enough about me, though, let's talk about you.
You, pumpkin, will be both British and Australian, as is your grandfather and your uncle David. LindaNana is both American and Australian, as is one of your other grandfathers. By the time you are born, the plan is that your mother and I will also be both British and Australian, although it is entirely likely, given the timeframe involved (business end of the pregnancy, remember?) that this will not occur.
Whilst I'm not sure how this duality will affect you in the short term, let me lay down a few laws of the land before we get started.
1. Football refers to the sport played on the hallowed turf of the MCG by the Mighty Blues. Other, inferior sports such as soccer and American football should be referred to by these names and no other.
2. Australia is the greatest pound for pound sporting nation on Earth. You are required to barrack loudly for Australia at all times, particularly when in the company of people from other countries (except in the case of the odious Lllleyton Hewitt. He Had It Coming).
3. Australian beer is pound for pound the best beer in the world. There are exceptions to this rule, which I will explain to you at great length once you're old enough to pay for your shout.
Love you.
That was mostly, in my opinion, because none of those erstwhile authors had the opportunity to witness the joy provided by the Bellyphone(tm).
The Bellyphone(tm) is accessed via a close personal relationship with your wonderful mother. To use the Bellyphone(tm),one leans close to her beautiful belly, places one's lips on her belly button, and says in a loud, clear voice "Hello pumpkin, this is your father speaking.".
When last I spoke to you in this manner, it was to tell you of the arrival of Australia Day. Obviously to reiterate what I said at that time will be semi-extraneous, but we must be loyal, pumpkin, to our ever expanding audience of Lovely Readers.
On the Bellyphone on Australia Day, my words to you were about your nationality, about patriotism. About the fact that you will be blessed with a dual nationality on birth, a trait you will share with many of your relatives. There was at one time a push by your father to become the first in the family to hold triple nationalities, but this fell by the wayside when he returned from the US in 1997.
Enough about me, though, let's talk about you.
You, pumpkin, will be both British and Australian, as is your grandfather and your uncle David. LindaNana is both American and Australian, as is one of your other grandfathers. By the time you are born, the plan is that your mother and I will also be both British and Australian, although it is entirely likely, given the timeframe involved (business end of the pregnancy, remember?) that this will not occur.
Whilst I'm not sure how this duality will affect you in the short term, let me lay down a few laws of the land before we get started.
1. Football refers to the sport played on the hallowed turf of the MCG by the Mighty Blues. Other, inferior sports such as soccer and American football should be referred to by these names and no other.
2. Australia is the greatest pound for pound sporting nation on Earth. You are required to barrack loudly for Australia at all times, particularly when in the company of people from other countries (except in the case of the odious Lllleyton Hewitt. He Had It Coming).
3. Australian beer is pound for pound the best beer in the world. There are exceptions to this rule, which I will explain to you at great length once you're old enough to pay for your shout.
Love you.
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