Month: August 2014

Hands Up If You Know Bernard

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First and foremost, apologies for not updating the blog much recently. I’ve been a bit all over the show doing my jumping thing and it appears that doesn’t allow much time to chat on about impending fatherhood. I’m back home now though and ready and raring to continue stressing about the fact we still need to decorate the nursery.

I could really do with Bernard’s watch come to think of it. If anyone knows him and would be up for asking if he’s in a position to lend that’d be great. I’ve got a pretty cool Lego Darth Vader alarm clock I’m more than happy to offer up as a swapsie. It just needs a bit of a dust.

Speaking of doing my jumping, as some of you probably know, it went as brilliantly as I could have hoped last week. The crowd were amazingly supportive, the atmosphere in the stadium was crazy and I really enjoyed the whole competition. I’m aware me side-stepping the steward created a bit of a media buzz and while that’s great, us athletes getting round to supporters and fans is a huge part of our job and something which gives me a real boost. I feel very strongly that in the future should I take my own children along to sporting events, knowing there’s an opportunity for them to interact with those competing will always be a huge pull and I’m sure that’s the same for every other parent. Granted, the little lady who bawled her eyes out the second I gave her a cuddle was probably wishing she was anywhere in the world other than in my arms… but at least her mum now has a photo she can roll out every time a new boyfriend comes round.

All that aside, it’s really nice to finally be home. I head off to Europeans in Zurich in about a week’s time so I’ve still got plenty of training to pack in, but at least being back here means I can chat to Suz’s belly and remind baby of my existence. I especially like to do this when Suz is juuuuust on the cusp of nodding off and when baby’s finally stopped using her bladder as a Boppit. Because then the kicking starts all over again and she gets to enjoy another hour of playing ‘How Quick Can You Get To The Toilet’.

(Although I sometimes get the impression it’s not totally fun for her from this weird, withering look she gives me, but it’s probably just something in her eye).

Interestingly, Suz has informed me the one time baby did stay Madam Tussaud’s still was while I was jumping in the Commonwealths so apparently there’s just nothing I’ll be able to do to win it’s appreciation. It’ll be all “Oh you did what? Meh, great. Mum pushed me out of her BODY. Me. A HUMAN! Sooo… come back when your achievements aren’t LAME and jumpy”.

Being back at home has also timed itself very well with Suz’s first proper craving. I’ve been all excited at the prospect of dashing out at 11pm to grab ingredients for custard and frankfurter sandwiches or gherkins like the bloke off the advert, and it seems that time has finally arrived!

Only, she wants to munch bath sponges.

And gets really excited about smelling them.

And they stink.

Like chemicals.

I do like the way she casually sniffs it for a few minutes and then cunningly pops a chunk into her mouth like some sort of bathroom ninja though, she’s admirably cloak and dagger about it. And actually, it’s quite endearing when she looks at me all wide-eyed and hopeful whispering “just smell how nice it is!” when really, it honks like a toxic jellyfish.

I just hope she doesn’t start trying to connect herself up to a Cif drip because that’s the latest thing she’s been ‘needing’ to use a lot.

“Suz, the sink’s clean”

“Oh, it’s just I ran the tap so I’d probably better Cif it quickly”

In fairness, the tap water of Milton Keynes does pose a serious threat to sinks.

The fact we’ve very soon got this tiny new human arriving on our doorstep (I think that’s how it works) was reinforced by the delivery of a few bundles of treats from Stokke this week. Since we met them at The Baby Show a few months ago they’ve been ridiculously helpful in helping us find a pram we can trundle through the woods with (our house is in the back end of nowhere), along with a high chair SO modern and cool even Shoreditch House feels behind the times, and a spare bath for when baby visits the grandparents. They weren’t a brand we were familiar with (being a couple who were more Selfridges and less Mamas & Papas up until February) but now we can’t rave about them more. Plus, their brochure makes you hopeful once baby arrives you won’t be bleary-eyed and grabbing for a milk-stained t-shirt out the dirties basket, but instead resemble their cool, Scandinavian model who wears lots of nice sweaters in their brochure.

A dad-to-be can dream.

All joking aside, we’ve plumped for the Stokke Crusi and it’s currently pride of place in our kitchen until we have something we can put in it. I had a wander round the garden with it (as you can see from the photo) but Suz told me off for getting the wheels dirty. A totally valid and in no way insane reason to get narked seeing as we’ll never be using it outside again…

It appears choosing the right pram can be a minefield (you don’t realise how fussy you get ’til you’re involved. I’m just grateful I never have to pick a wedding dress) and it was so nice to finally find one we were 100% happy with. We’ve heard loads of great reviews regarding other brands, and obviously people’s choices can be hugely dependent on where they live (city, countryside etc) but we just want to express our gratitude to Stokke for being on hand with lots of advice and suggestions. Now we won’t have to carry our baby around in a Paperchase carrier bag (yay!).