2012: A Year in Rear-View

2012…the year we had to have.

Well, we didn’t have to. I mean, some people didn’t want us to have it at all. (At least, not all of it…bloody Mayans). What do they know? Certainly nothing about making calendars, that’s for sure.

Imagine if things had ended on December 21…it would be like watching The Sixth Sense and turning it off with two minutes left to go and thinking…

“Yeah, it was okay but…I didn’t really get it?”

But for us, it was a phenomenal year. Not to mention, it was the best year of Indy’s life(and he only came in at the half way mark, around when Haley Joel Osment tells Bruce Willis, he sees dead people).

Adjusting my rear-view mirror as 2012 disappears over the horizon, I see we had the birth of our beautiful boy, the Swans won the Grand Final, I got Indy got…some gnarly signatures on my his Swans cap, I paid off my car and remain unofficially debt-free, the end of the world didn’t happen (always good to know it’s exactly where you left it, under your pillow, when you wake up in the morning), aliens didn’t invade us (and frankly, how could they? Haven’t you seen Border Security? You can’t even bring rice into the country, let alone some extra-terrestrial beings. Apparently it’s only one terrestrial being per passenger, “extras” will have to be declared, I’m afraid).

We had our first Christmas as a family, Indy had his photo in the Herald Sun…(and not in the Crime Stoppers section), and today…had his first “official gig” in the upcoming Winter Target Catalogue, (assuming they choose his picture above all of the “nowhere-near-as-cute-as-ours” kids photos. But we’re not judgey…we’ll leave that to the Judy’s and Reinholds of the world).

So, next year sees a brand new chapter with me and the lad going Mano-a-Mano, as I officially take up reigns as Stay-at-Home Dad. Which I foresee some potential pitfalls such as…

“Why didn’t you get any groceries?” or “Didn’t you take him in for his checkups?”

To which my reply…

“I couldn’t go out…I’m a Stay-At-Home Dad. I’m only doing what I’m told.”

May not hold up in a court of kick-your-ass-for-being-an-ass.

So, here’s to a spectacular year next year. Welcome 2013let the adventures continue!!

(Incidentally, 13 is my lucky number…and next year, has 20 of them…2013…don’t work it out)

Happy New Year!!!

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Road Trip

Packing the car for Indy’s very first road trip to visit my family in the country, I’m struck by an astonishing realization.

How is it that someone so small requires so many things? We used to have only one suitcase in the back of the boot, but now, there’s a pram, two bassinets, nappy bags, blankets, car seats, clothes, spare clothes and did I mention…more clothes?

You quickly learn that babies require a bigger wardrobe change than Lady Gaga. Not because of artistic choices due to their imagination, but by necessity, due to the amount of baby-chuck that tends to spontaneously adorn their freshly changed clean clothes, like a random Pro Hart painting or a hapless Spiderman victim.

And if you remember the scene in Ridley Scott’s Aliens, when Lance Henriksen’s android character Bishop, gets ripped in half by the Queen Alien and sprays milky white residue all over the loading dock, then you’re somewhere in the ballpark.

But loading all these things into the car, it’s very quickly apparent that things will never be the same again. No more can we get out of the house in five minutes. Never again can we slip away for a weekend without loading the car like we’re storing nuts for Armageddon.

As I stare disbelievingly into the depths of our open boot, things are painfully obvious…

We’re gonna need a bigger boat…

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Ripley’s Believe It Or Not

Week 39 and only 7 days to go!!

Although, statistically speaking, only 5% of babies arrive on time. 75% usually arrive late and the remaining 20% early. So, it’s hard to know just how he’s keeping time exactly. Whether he’s going by Daylight Savings, Greenwich Meantime or my wife’s biological clock. It would make everything so much easier if he could just schedule something in, so we can adjust ourselves accordingly. It’s like receiving a package from TOLL DIRECT, when they ring you before hand and say, “your package will be delivered sometime between June 16 and July 4th…between the hours of 9am and 11pm.” Oh, great…perfect!

On top of that, my lovely wife has battled a dreadful cold, all week. Prepping us both for sleep deprivation. Up all night coughing, standing over the laundry basket in case she coughs a little too hard…and shoots the little tacker out!

(Okay, that may not exactly be true) BUT…she did dream last night that she was actually having the baby and she could see the head sticking out! We had to drive to the hospital while it called out directions from the GPS! (Okay, once again, I made up the part about the GPS)…BUT…she did dream it was coming and had to try and hold it back in.

He’s getting very active now, and because he’s getting bigger every day, whenever he moves around inside my wife’s belly, it’s like it moves her whole body.

Which makes me wonder about how cool it would be if babies could actually control your entire body when they’re in the womb. Kind of like Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) inside her hydraulic exoskeleton in the movie, Aliens.

Imagine your baby sitting in the driver’s seat in your belly, with his arms and legs controlling your arms and legs. Making you move around the room…or drive the car “hey look ma, I’m driving!” Opening and closing cupboards, throttling your husband’s throat for writing things about you in his blog…

“Hon–ey…you’re…cho…king…me!”

Ripley: “Get away from her, you bi#@h!” – translation: “It’s not me honey, it’s the baby!”

But maybe that’s just my overactive imagination running overtime. But this close to the end, it’s hard not to think about anything else.

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