The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

Have you ever had one of those weeks that just doesn't quite go to plan and by the end of it you wonder where the time has gone?

This has been one of those weeks. 

As I said in my last post, the plan for this week was to book a health test with the doctor. I'm not putting it off, I promise, but this week's gone by in a blur. 

The beginning of the week started at the hospital for a last minute consultant appointment for Han. Apparently they'd got it booked but we knew nothing about it until the night before. It was a new consultant too who was really nice, but hadn't quite figured out how the hospital system worked yet. As a result we ended up sitting in random departments for ages that we didn't need to be in because he'd intended us to have follow up appointments booked and notification sent through the post, but gave us the paperwork to actually send us straight to the various departments. They of course had no idea why we were there. He did manage to actually get something started about her depression though which is something the others seemed to brush over. 

After we left the hospital it was time for a shopping trip to prepare Finn for Wednesday. He had a school trip all about careers and had to go dressed as if for a job interview. I've never seen him look so smart and grown up, it was quite scary to be honest, especially since I still see him as that cute little blond boy with his Thomas the Tank Engine train set. 

See what I mean?

He did brilliantly on the trip though, only one mark off 100% and was told he'd done the best interview they'd had for years. He said; "Do you know how I scored so well Dad? I was just myself." That's something I may have to remember for myself. Job interviews absolutely terrify me.

Thursday was Han's photo shoot. Honestly, the best advice I can give anyone living with a pregnant woman who is feeling down because her body is no longer her own and is feeling frumpy & unattractive, treat them to a day of being pampered and treated like a model. (I found a deal for it on Wowcher that only cost £9 and included £100 worth of vouchers off wall sized prints.) It was a boudoir shoot so there was lots of posing on beds, chaise lounges and that sort of thing in her best underwear. They treated her brilliantly and did her hair and makeup very retro 1940s complete with victory rolls which is a style she absolutely adores. We've been to see the proofs today and chose the one we get for our free print. I have to say she looked incredible in it, very 'pin up' and a little like the singer Paloma Faith. The entire point of the exercise was to make her feel attractive and womanly again, the photo is just a keepsake to remind her, but it was the pampering and the way they treated her that was the reason I booked it. She was supposed to be there 2 hours but eventually came out after 3 1/2! I dropped her off and went for a wander around the city while she was there. (Being from a small town we don't get in very often.)

It worked brilliantly, when she came out she was so relaxed and was smiling more than I've seen her do in a while. It was exactly what her confidence needed. She took a photo when she got home to prove it. 

Besides all this and work, we had my cousin's surprise 50th birthday party last night which included her best friend visiting from Germany. They haven't seen each other in nearly 10 years. 

The lessons from this week seem to be:

1, Always be flexible with plans, life often happens and get in the way. 

2, Being the father of a 15 year old is just as scary as actually being 15 yourself. Growing up is a shock. 

3, My cousin turned 50! When did we stop being the kids?

And most importantly,

4, Never forget to pamper the woman you love when she needs it. Just a small token can mean so much and remind her just how beautiful you think she is.

As for booking in to the doctors, I'll get that done this week. I'm honestly not delaying even though my New Years resolution was to take up procrastination. That's something I might leave until tomorrow though. ;)

"You're not 23 anymore ..."

Good morning folks. 

First off I'd like to say thanks to Tony for the kind words, I'll definitely be checking your blog out too, it's nice to know that what I'm doing here is appreciated. 

Right, back to business. Why would this phrase have such an impact? You'd have thought that it'd be pretty obvious really that I'm not 23 now. The truth is, I'd just been thinking about how great it was when Finn was a baby and was looking forward to being able to do it all over again. It hasn't actually occurred to me that my body has aged by nearly 40 and it might not be quite as easy as it was in my early 20s. 

I've never been particularly sporty. At school I was always more academic than physical, I was one of the last to get picked for teams and, even though I never came last in running races, the only two who finished behind me were the kid who was affectionately known as "Tank" and the boy who ran as if he had rickets. I've never known anyone else whose feet look like side-on windmills as he heads down a track. 

I was a bit more active during my band days, as a bassist it became obvious that I was often the member of the band overlooked. (After one gig I walked off stage and was almost immediately asked by someone, "So do you have anything to do with the band?") So I started to bounce. I haven't played in a band in 12 years now though. 

As I've already pointed out, now I'm 38. I've smoked 20 a day since I was 19, while I may not be hugely overweight I've always eaten what I enjoy and never taken much notice of diet. I have a ridiculous sweet tooth. I've often joked that at my age I get out of breath running a bath, I sometimes struggle to get up and down on my knees (I have been wondering if that might be arthritis) and ever since an unfortunate incident at work 8 years ago when I almost broke my back, I've struggled with back pain. 

Ok, I bet you're wondering how now aren't you? 8 years ago I worked in Europe's largest garden centre. I was in the warehouse just before Christmas when 3 (very large) boxes of stuffed penguins fell off a ladder and hit me squarely on the head. The hospital initially thought I'd crushed my T3 vertebrae but it turned out just to be severely bruised discs. Work however found the whole situation hilarious and, when it came to the post Christmas stock take, guess who they made count the stuffed penguins?

So this simple little sentence made me realise, maybe it's time to start doing something about it. I don't want to be a dad who can't run around and play with my kids. Maybe it's time to get help with kicking the pariah's habit of nicotine addiction, start looking at what I eat and start trying to get fit. 

Having been raised in a family where we ate good old fashioned hearty food, (my granddad was a big fan of dripping on bread and often made us sugar butties) and not considering myself overweight I have no idea where to start when it comes to fitness. My mum used to go through stages of dieting which involved weekly meetings and studying a book before eating anything, that seemed like a huge hassle and never really lasted long. Mum's general diet tips are; if you put on a fitness DVD, sit down with a bar of chocolate to watch it and if you get on the scales and don't like what they say then they're obviously broken so throw them out. 

I'm not saying I've been lazy, I've always been active at work, never sitting down and potentially walking miles during a 6-8 hour shift. That coupled with housework and running a home has been my main fitness regime and until now it seemed enough. 

I guess the first thing to do is look at where I am now, where I'm starting from. That in mind, I think today may well involve a trip to the doctor to book myself in for a full health check and find out about their quit smoking service. Don't get me wrong, when I say 'may well' I don't mean I'm trying to think of ways to get out of it, Han has a consultant's appointment at the hospital so it's all going to depend on time. If I don't make it today I'll go down first thing in the morning. I promise. 

I will admit I'm a little nervous, this kind of feels like some sort of threshold, like after this appointment then everything will change. I'll never be able to claim blissful ignorance again will I? 

Wish me luck. 

An introduction to Han

I thought today I'd take a little break from talking about the revelation that spurred me on to start this new journey to tell you a bit about the woman who has to put up with me and my boy projects on a daily basis. 

As you can probably guess, if you ask me I'll tell you Han's lovely. She caring, sensitive, has a heart of gold and is as mad as a box of frogs. I guess that's what gives her the ability to put up with me and Finn in the first place. Even though I'm 10 years older than her she tends to mother us both and keep us in line. She's allergic to gluten and lactose, loves dogs (we have one) but hates cats (even though we have two)

Her family is great as well. Her dad plays in a band who were pretty big in the 70s and still tours all over the world, her brother is a phenomenal drummer and her sister is just about to release her 4th album. The music room in their house is huge and very impressive. Every family party you end up finding yourself sat next to some member of a band you've definitely heard of and only realising as the impromptu jam session kicks in before progressing to an acoustic chill out around the bonfire. As you can imagine, growing up surrounded by musicians, artists, hippies and alternative therapists is something that was considered a bit out of the ordinary in a small town. 

Of course Han has her down sides, everybody does, and if I only told you the good bits then she'd come across as pretty flat and quite a boring person. She does have a tendency to fret about things. She had a tough time at school, she suffers from dyslexia and dyspraxia which sometimes makes her come across as a bit awkward, and this coupled with her slightly bohemian home life made her a target for bullies. Kids can be so cruel. 

Being the sensitive soul she is, she's battled through depression, but the whole experience has left her with constant anxiety and a struggle, at times, with self esteem. 

I think one of the reasons we work so well together is that, while she supports me unconditionally with whatever crazy project idea I come up with, I help her see the absurdity in many of the things that she frets about and give her the ability to laugh at it. 

Why did I decide to tell you all about her today? Well, it's because of something that happened at the hospital the other day and her fretting. 

The midwife had sent her to the hospital for a scan so they could take another set of measurements of Bump. Apparently they're a little concerned Han might be suffering from gestational diabetes. There are two hospitals about equal distance from home; one in a town that has a grammar school, girls high school, a university and a real sense of beauty about the place, the other is in a town of "questionable reputation". The consultant baby unit where she's booked in happens to be in the second. 

Han and I were sitting in the waiting room waiting to be called through, there was only us there and one other lady across the room wearing a hijab. The midwife walked in, turned to Han and asked, "Are you Fatima?"

Now we're not racist in the slightest, please don't think that for one minute, but I would guess when the only people you have booked in at the time are called Hanna and Fatima, one with some of the palest skin you've ever seen and the other wearing a hijab, it doesn't take Sherlock's powers of deduction to guess who is probably who. Besides the fact that Han initially misheard the midwife and was quite put out at the insensitivity of being asked, "Are you a fatty, ma?" She's now concerned that if they can make that sort of misidentification with fully dressed grown adults, how can she be sure they'll manage with naked newborn babies? 

I think she's hoping the local midwives will let her swap hospitals, either that or I can see her demanding we go and practically camp down the road from the nicer one in a few weeks time so that she can walk in and say, "Well I'm already here and it's too late to travel in the other direction now." Let's hope the weather's not too bad for Easter eh?

It hit like a bolt of lightening

Well maybe not quite that dramatic, probably more like one of those dreams where you're falling or when you miss a step. Let's admit it though, I had to get your attention somehow and if I'd started with; "It felt like I'd missed a stair." you probably wouldn't have read this far would you? 

Ok, I should probably explain a bit more. I'm Joe and I'm 38. 

Hello, nice to meet you. Thank you for joining me on this journey, even though you don't know where we're going yet and to be honest, I'm not sure I do either. 

You see, the thing is, I'm going to be a dad again. 

Congratulations? Why thank you, that really means a lot. I have a 15 year old son, Finn, from my first marriage who has lived with me since he was 8. My marriage broke down when he was 8 months old and his mum took him to live a couple of hundred miles away. I had him come to stay 1 week out of every 4 right up until he started school, then for school holidays until he decided he wanted to come and live with me permanently. All in all I think I got a pretty good deal for a single dad wouldn't you say? 

But how do I get from there to lightning bolts, missed stairs and being a dad again? I met Hanna 8 years ago thanks to a blind date set up by my first ever girlfriend. When I say girlfriend I mean we used to sit and do jigsaws together at play school and then stayed really close all through primary, only to become friends again properly years later. But she decided to set me up with her husband's cousin Hanna (Han for short), thinking we'd be a good match. Things weren't always plain sailing, we had a rocky time to start with and even went through a period where she didn't speak to me at all for 4 years. Eventually though we met up again and made friends, then fell for each other all over again (which was a bit of a surprise to both of us) and before we knew it here we are married, sitting in the waiting room at the hospital, 31 weeks into her first pregnancy with me writing this while she looks over my shoulder and occasionally giggles at my geekiness.  I can honestly say I've never been happier. 

Here she is, reading a pregnancy book called, "You Pee When You Sneeze" and trying to look all serious while ignoring me snapping pictures of her in a crowded waiting room. She says hi by the way. 

But back to our lightning bolt moment. Are you ready for some drama?

It was a dark, cold night. Outside,  the frost covered everything with a blanket of feathers as the arctic wind threatened to cut through any living creature unfortunate enough to be caught away from the shelter of home. Beside me Han lay sleeping softly, her breath a gentle purr as I lay dreaming. Suddenly a menacing voice slithered into my dream and whispered words that struck terror into my heart. As I sat bolt upright in bed, trembling with the sweat pouring from every inch of me those words that would change my life continued to echo through my brain ...

Ok, it wasn't quite that dramatic, but real life rarely is as exciting as in a book is it? You have to admit it sounded impressive though. 

In reality I was sitting on the sofa when the thought popped into my head and I had one of those moments of realisation that does give you a bit of a jolt. One short, simple sentence that is threatening to change my whole outlook and the way I live in the face of impending fatherhood. I suppose after all this build up you'd like to know what simple little thought could have such a drastic effect on a regular family man aren't you? It's simple really, sitting there contentedly heading towards 40 and looking forward to a new baby in the house, something really obvious snuck into my head to change it all. Five words (or four if you count numbers as one);

"You're not 23 anymore ..."