'There is no more sombre enemy of art than the pram in the hall.' (Cyril Connolly, English art critic, author and journalist) I was going to write a blog about losing a father, then becoming one. A meditation on life and death: the big bookends in the story of existence. But then I thought about the idea, and the solemnity of it depressed me. Instead I'm going to write in response to the above quotation to see if I can still create something interesting within the time constraints of parenthood. Each week I'll write a piece (I'll try to do this in a different form or technique: poem, sketch, letter, diary, personification, surrealism etc.). I'll include a fact linked to the writing, where the piece was written and a picture of my boy so we can track how he changes. This is the first one: Fact Babies sleep around 16-18 hours a day. (Not all of these are at night.) Type of writing: Poem Where was the idea conceived? Children's Centre Car Park (o...
Day 1 We didn’t mind our last baby was two weeks late. My dad, Harriet’s father-in-law, had just passed and we needed time to process sadness before we could register joy. However, we really didn’t want this baby to be late. If our little boy was born early in the summer, it would give us the opportunity to be a family whilst the school holidays were still in full swing. Also, last time round was a complex situation; in any other context, you don’t want to be waiting weeks and weeks for a child to be born. Harriet’s baby shower had friends guess the name, due date and weight. Unsurprisingly, the latest someone put down was August 17 th , the due date. ( Note: If you are at a baby shower, always put down a date before the due date or- if you’re particularly close to the mum-to-be - the due date itself. Never put down a time that exceeds the expected time of arrival, the mum-to-be will kill you and the police won’t charge, accepting there were mitigating circumstances.) I wa...
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