Monday, 8 February 2016
Not waiting anymore. Isabella Lucia arrived just before midnight on February 4th, at a touch under 6lb. She's utterly gorgeous. I'm in awe of my wife, who dealt with the birth so well and has managed since on a teacup of sleep a night, because Izzy won't rest unless she's being held by Mummy.
Daddy's a bit tired too, but I feel a tad reticent about saying so. A punch on the nose often offends y'know.
Since the birth, Caz and I have realised a number of things. One is that we should have practised putting the stroller/car seat combo together more often. We've learned that Daddy sleeping on the edge of the bed does not work, because it ends up with Daddy shouting "Yikes!" just before he hits the floor. And we've also learned that a single child can have more wriggly bits than you'd expect to find in a box of worms. Getting a sleep suit on that little Houdini is hard.
But she's healthy, and all her bits are where they should be. She's strong too. A fetch round the nose from an irate Izzy has quite an impact.
Of course, the rest of my life has fallen away a bit. I'm off work for a fortnight, and have written a total of 450 words in four days - and those on the night Caz and Izzy were kept in hospital and I was too wired to sleep. I'm just glad I played the Vice Captain's Cup in the pool league the day before Izzy came. Well, the day she came, in fact - I won the title, and the final ran until 12.30am on the day she was born. Quite a day, eh?
So that's all for this blog. I'd like to think of witty or clever things to say, but I'm too tired, and anyway all the things I feel are trite. Like knowing my daughter is the beautifullest little girl in the world.
Trite. But a bit true.