No Rock In His Roll

I wouldn’t say I’m fussy or particular (though my wife may have words to the contrary on that), but is it too much to expect to find things…where you left them?

I mean, if I’m using or playing around with something and then I put it down for just a second, expecting to return to it in a jiffy, am I setting the expectation bar, too high, to think it would be in the exact same place I left it?

It’s the kind of thing you’d expect from your surgeon: When I wake up, can you please make sure all my organs are where I left them? It’s what you expect from your mechanic: When I pick up my car, can you please make sure all it’s engine parts are where I left them? It’s even what you’d expect from volunteering to be strapped to a spinning wheel while a blindfolded knife-thrower hurls razor sharp blades at you: When I open my eyes and stop spinning, can you please make sure all my appendages are exactly where I left them? But, is it too much to expect…

From your baby?

I mean, come on! I like being secure in the knowledge that when I lay my boy down to play on his activity mat, or lay him down to bed in his cot, that if I have to get up to turn the kettle on, use the little boys room, or perform open brain surgery…that I expect to quickly return to find him exactly where I left him. But now, it seems as if he’s suddenly obsessed with old TV Westerns like, RAWHIDE. Every time we put him down, he goes straight into the theme song…

ROLLIN’…ROLLIN’…ROLLIN’

Which is fine, except for the fact he’s like Jerry Seinfeld…he can’t go left!

There’s no ROCK in his ROLL.

He can only roll in one direction and can’t rock back to roll the other way, (which coincidentally, is exactly the same as boy band, One Direction). So, we often find him mushed up against his prison bars doing a Braveheart impression, but with a magenta stripe down his William Wallace face. Until he cries out in anguish, “You’ll never take my FREEDO–ouch!”

Scratch that, you did take my freedom. A little help, someone…anyone?

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Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Week 37 which means our schnitzel is officially classified as FULL TERM. So, if he were to pop out into the world right now, he’d be fully formed and functioning. Two words that are ever rarely associated with my brain, especially at the ripe old middle-age of 2191.3 weeks!

And even though our son is due in 3 weeks time, the reality is…like a train without a timetable or a teenage boy losing his virginity…he could “arrive” at any moment!!

And it will change our lives FOREVER!

And as a new dad-to-be, you gotta get used to that word…

“CHANGE”

Because they’re coming thick’n’fast, whether you’re ready for them or not.  As these music artists so readily point out:

Change The World by Eric Clapton. Chill Out, Things Gonna Change by John Lee Hooker. Change My Way Of Living by The Allman Brothers Band. Changes by David Bowie. Winds Of Change by Jefferson Starship. I Know I’ve Been Changed by John Hammond Jr. There’s Gotta Be A Change by Jonny Lang. Victim Of Changes by Judas Priest. Change It by Stevie Ray Vaughan. Perpetual Change by Yes.

When my love first announced she was pregnant, I was fully expecting some changes, however, I wasn’t fully prepared for just how BIG those changes would get. Especially when it comes to the size of her belly…Wow!

It’s like, if my wife was a supermarket, her belly would be Costco.

My wife’s pregnant belly is so big, Buzz Aldrin walked on it.

She’s like a rolling boulder. When I get caught between her and the bathroom, I’m like Indiana Jones running for my life!

When her belly moves, it’s like the shifting of a continental plate. But instead of the San Andreas Fault, it’s apparently…all my fault.

She’s huge, I’m not kidding. She’s currently bigger than One Direction.

And we still have three weeks to go! At this point, I’m worried she’ll have a bigger opening than The Avengers.

And being pregnant also changes things in the bedroom, too. And if you’ve ever had sex with a pregnant woman, then you’ll know…

Having sex during pregnancy is a lot like phone sex. There’s lots of heavy breathing, you have to do most of the work yourself and you can’t always see the person you’re having sex with.

It’s like a field mouse climbing a bowling ball.

Talk about a stretch. It’s like finding a knot-hole in a giant Redwood.

But it can be quite scenic, too. Like driving over the crest of a hill…with mountains off in the distance.

And single lads should know, intimacy during pregnancy is like sex with a prostitute. You can’t kiss and have penetrationat the same time!

But change is inevitable. Change is expected…and change is good. And in a few weeks time, change will no doubt be necessary, washable and disposable. Day after day after day after day….