Although I was very happy to welcome my child into the world, I did feel a little hard done by.
The reason for this was that last Sunday I bought my wife an oven, (not because I’m trying desperately to reinforce 1950s gender stereotypes, but because she kept asking for it) but with labour commencing on Monday night, it only got used once. The ginger cookies my wife baked were very good, but they weren’t quite $700 worth of cookies, and Foremandaddy is all about return on investment in 2013. (When I’m not watching Justin Timberlake videos on Youtube, which takes up about half of my days.)
Continue reading “Cookies (it’s a hard life)”
When, as the child of foreigners, you get a birth certificate in Singapore, it has the words THE CHILD IS NOT A CITIZEN OF SINGAPORE AT THE TIME OF BIRTH printed on it, in a space marked For Official Use. If one of your parents is a Singaporean citizen (and as long as that doesn’t happen to be your father *and* he’s a diplomat with some kind of immunity) then you get to be a citizen, and I assume that rather unwelcoming phrase doesn’t show up. We probably aren’t going to stay here forever, but it’s still a rather blunt way to state it. I half wondered if it was to protect Singaporean toddlers from a rampage of Foreign Talent, but dismissed that out of hand. Unless there’s a global market for household chores where cheap immigrant children come in and do the dishes and tidy their rooms cheaper than the incumbents can, and let’s not even contemplate what that would mean for child labour legislation…
Continue reading “Where you from?”
Yesterday I registered our daughter, using a government form that was meant to take 12 minutes to complete, but that left me and my wife confused and baffled. But perhaps that’s the hormones kicking in.
Continue reading “Classification”
I have moments of lucidity, some time between mid-afternoon and early evening. I wake up at a decent time in the morning, but that means nothing as I’m useless until I’ve gone back to sleep for another hour or so. I knew already that I don’t function well when deprived of sleep, but this is faintly ridiculous. My wife, meanwhile, who has to provide another organism with all its energy, is remarkably spry and conscious.
Continue reading “Permanent jet lag and reading materials”
Our daughter, Felicity Foreman, arrived at 11:13pm, six months before Christmas Day, which may very well be the optimal present-distribution-distance. Childbirth is similar to war; nothing much happens for quite a while, then punctuated by moments of stress or triumph.
Continue reading “A new arrival”
About ten minutes after I lay down to sleep, my wife started shuffling around on the bed, and shortly after that we realised her waters has broken. The hypnobirthing term for that is "membranes releasing" but I think that makes it sound like she’s some sort of weird jellyfish, so I avoid calling it that.
Continue reading “Baby on the way”
This evening we had our second hypnobirthing class. Last night we experimented: my wife listened to the relaxation music while I watched a violent film with The Rock in it, and then we both slept peacefully. I didn’t get socked in the face with my wife’s fist, she didn’t wake up at 5am. Which makes me think when we get to the actual birth she will have whale songs on her head phones while I watch a loop of the Fast And Furious films. We’ll both be more relaxed.
Continue reading “More hypnobirthing”