Baby Blues

We have moved our four month old, third son, from his crib by the side of our bed into his own full size cot in his own room. He looks a bit lost in all that space and the crib beside my bed is forlornly empty. He sleeps all the night through now, pretty much, and it is nice to sleep undisturbed again: Only I don't. I still wake up because I miss his little presence, his regular whisper of breath. I miss sitting with him in the middle of the night, just him and me. I miss having a baby because I probably never will again.

He seems in a rush to do everything. He is trying to crawl, seemingly to stand up and talk even. When he sits on my knee whilst I play games with his three and four year old brothers he jumps up and down waving his arms, trying to join in the action.

"Be patient, my son, there is plenty time to be grown up. Enjoy your childhood, if not for your own sake, for mine because I love being your father and that gift has a shelf life. Sure, I will always be your father, but you will not always smile at me in that totally absorbing way that you do now and I will not always be the first person you call out for in the middle of the night. Then, you'll be a man, my son, and I'll be proud of you but I will always miss our chats in the middle of the night."

Still, when he is playing in the back row for England I will get guaranteed tickets...

Starting school.

My eldest son has just started school, even though he has only just turned four. It seems a little premature. Indeed, it seems a little incongruous because when he wakes up he is a little boy with ruffled blond hair and a cherubic smile but once he puts his uniform on he looks like an archetypal schoolboy, complete with schoolbag, lunchbox and even homework (if you can call reading Little Red Riding Hood homework). I had to admit to the teacher that, due to a sick wife and two other children in the house, we had not done our homework; I thought she might spank me but unfortunately I was forgiven.

I have absolute respect for the teachers. "Manage the chaos to win the war" Napoleon is quoted as saying and there was a sense of that in my son's classroom this morning. The teachers, however, went about their business with a practiced routine that seemed to keep things moving in the right direction and all the children busied themselves with painting, jigsaws and books, and my son set to like an old pro.

He seems to have adapted well, having made some friends, and he comes home asking even more questions: He seems very enthused by it which I am grateful for since some other children seem to be struggling a little. One little girl this morning was devastated to be left by her Mom, another seemed to have been abandoned since her Mom left with embarrassing haste. As it was, my son showed me where to put his lunchbox, where to hang his jumper and which jigsaw was his favourite. When I left he gave me a manly hug and went to the window to wave me off. Now that he seems to have begun life's journey, I sense this will be the first of many farewells I will have to endure.

"Polenastics"

With three kids under 4 years old, my wife finds it necessary to have a visiting hairdresser. Nothing remarkable about that except that this lady is into "Polenastics", which is apparently like gymnastics but with a pole not bars or a beam; it keeps you fit, she says. Indeed, as I recall, all the pole dancers I have tipped in various dubious places around the world have been fairly "athletic". How do they hold themselves upside down with only their thighs for support?

So, my wife has decided to have a pole dancing birthday party.
"Yippee!" I cried. But it is only for the girls she has decreed. I ask you, what's the point of girls-only pole dancing? Actually, I can think of a very good reason but you'd need a camcorder and my wife won't even allow that.

I am working on ways of getting invited: I could be a waiter; cross-dresser; peeping tom, even. I have some friends who are coppers so a bit of covert surveillance might help although they are a bit reticent; some crap about "professionalism". Come on, let's prioritise here. Some of my wife's friends are fulsome so there may be a few health and safety issues but it would be worth watching them too, if only for comedy value.