Shit happens

So.... I'm a dad now. Have been for 6 weeks. It's flying by. Turns out it isn't full time work that makes time go quickly; it's just life.

I don't remember too much about how I've been feeling over the days since Myla arrived in the world, which was why I was wanting to reinvigorate the blog so I can capture it. I'm off work on Shared Parental Leave, which in my pre-delivery mind meant I'd have long days filled with bonding with my daughter, hanging by the sea and honing my typing skills. Reality is that we seem to spend most of our time either getting ready for bed or getting dressed in the morning - the bit in between just pings past in a blur of feeding and winding.

We are, at least, managing to make it out of the house most days for a walk by the sea - each time reinforcing our decision to relocate from London late last year in advance of parenthood. I can't see us making as much effort to peel ourselves of the sofa for a walk round Crystal Palace park. My instagram posts have improved immeasurably as well.

As I type, mother and daughter are passed out on the sofa together, Myla having reached yet another milestone today as her farts when from "noisy but inoffensive" to "silent but deadly". We may as well have an aging labrador rather than a small baby. Utterly noxious. This comes a few days  after she emitted a poo fountain when I was mid nappy change - instinctive reflexes saw me jump out of the way as it arced from her bum through the air towards me which merely ensured it landed on our oatmeal coloured carpet. It now looks like we've spilled curry sauce everywhere, and the internet suggests it's virtually impossible to get out. I feel it's important to note these events for future reference should I ever need to make a speech at her wedding. Don't get me started on the time in the early days when she pissed in her own eye, I'll be here all night.