2 minutes

2 minutes

It takes 2 minutes to walk from my front door to the shop. 10 if it’s with Moo

2 minutes to chase Moo around the house trying to put her pants on

2 minutes to decide to go to the gym

2 minutes to turn around and go home again

2 minutes to discuss whether or not to take Moo’s scooter out

2 minutes to argue about how many books to read before bed

If I’m alone for 2 minutes, it feels like a lifetime

I’d like 2 minutes to watch the programmes I WANT to watch. Please?

I’d like 2 minutes to tell you about your baby brother


It was 2 minutes to 8 when he was born; miniature and new


For 2 minutes though, he didn’t breathe…

For 2 minutes I cried and held my breath and shook and waited

For 2 minutes your Mum, in pain and exhausted and spent, panicked


2 minutes with his cord around his neck

2 minutes I watched him, limp and lifeless

2 minutes my mind raced; “How will I help my wife through this?”

2 minutes I knew terror. I knew helplessness

2 minutes with 15 people in the room trying to help him live

2 minutes felt like too much

2 minutes. 120 seconds. Eternity


2 minutes and then…


He cried!

He screamed!

He lay naked on Mummy; colour flooding his tiny body


I breathed out


For 2 minutes I kissed every part of his tiny head. Welcome to our magnificent army son


I love you both with all that I am






Relinquishing control…

So this week I was asked to contribute a blog to the fantastic site You the Daddy

My chosen topic this week is of the struggle I am having with letting go of the day to day tasks now that my wife is on maternity leave. That, and the dawning realisation that her maternity leave is not my excuse to stay up late watching box sets and shooting zombies on my PlayStation… Arse biscuits 

Anyway, here’s the link: Relinquishing control…

Moving with the times

4:53am and I sit here in my new kitchen, writing on my new computer, my first blog post for a while now. How did I get a new kitchen? Well it’s a new house actually; in a new area, with all new playgroups and toddler things to navigate (more on that later). How did I get a new computer? Insurance payout after my wonderful 40th birthday motorbike was stolen a month after I got it… Don’t even ask. Why am I up at 4:53am? Well, because it’s a house, and I can’t work out the heating, and I’m completely paranoid that Moo is too cold, and so I can’t sleep. 

I miss my flat.

We moved from our home in Fulham to Earlsfield at the end of October principally because we desired more space and Fulham houses are now priced at a point so high that I’m starting to believe:

A). No one told anyone there that Brexit happened and the pound is now fucked  

B). A group of despotic, maniacal, Estate Agents are sitting in a dimly lit board room, around a dark mahogany room, dressed in long black leather SS style coats, sneering and making shit up as they see fit.

So Earsfield is where we be.

Things I’ve learnt in the last week:

  1. Packing companies are a marvel. Our guys – Tactical Removals – were polite, organised and brilliant. And who knew that part would be so easy! Note to self: I must stop flirting with workmen though. It just comes across as weird.
  2. Just because someone is packing for you, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go through your stuff before hand to check on the things that you might not actually want. Like, Moo’s individually wrapped sticks she collected from the park, for example…
  3. Unpacking boxes sucks balls. Old, greying, saggy balls.
  4. NEVER, and I repeat NEVER attempt this moving malarkey with a 6 month pregnant wife and a 20 month old toddler in tow… Holy cocking headache

That last point couldn’t be more true and you’ll thank me for the tip one day. Mainly because of the guilt factor; the guilt of your child being ignored and grumbled at in equal measure, and your pregnant wife being, well, ignored and grumbled at in equal measure. But it’s  also because of the pure logistical necessities of just getting shit done. A typical hour for us went like this –

  • I cut open a box and marvel at the crap inside
  • Moo asks me to play
  • I put Moo in front of the iPad to watch CBeebies and commence the guilt about her brain melting
  • I unpack the box and wonder where the hell things are going to go
  • Moo shouts at me and Mummy to play
  • I load up yet ANOTHER Sarah and Duck episode for Moo and feel even more guilty
  • I shout at Mummy
  • Mummy cries
  • I open a different box
  • Moo shouts at everyone
  • Mummy cries
  • Moo comforts Mummy – “Mummy sad. Layla give hug”
  • Mummy and Moo go off on some female pact to talk about the arsehole Father
  • I repack boxes and make a cup of tea

It truly has been a nightmare. We wait for Moo to have her nap or for her to go to sleep by which point we are so tired that we are at a stage whereby if someone offered to come along and take ALL the boxes away and dump them, then we would smile, nod, and then lie down and spread out on the nice, empty, stress free floor.

But we’re getting there… Slowly. On the plus side though, I have a shed in my garden! Not only is this manly and cool, but the shed itself is now chock full of the stuff I have no idea where to put. Including, and who doesn’t need these, 4 half empty white spirit containers. Handy. I’ve closed the door and made a note to sort it all out. In 2018.

2 days after we moved in I put a post up on a Facebook group called ‘SW18 Mums’ (and yes, the exclusivity of the word ‘Mums’ does piss me off excessively) seeking advice about activities to do with a toddler. Happily I was inundated with responses as it seems we have landed ourselves right, smack, bang in the middle of nappy valley. I made a list of everything and put it on the fridge, downloaded the handy app called ‘Hoop’ (that I still haven’t opened), and began to plan out the things we could do.

The first activity we embarked upon was called ‘Tumble Time’. No, it doesn’t have anything to do with ‘Mr Tumble’ – “Take your fingers, just like so. Make a V and say, HELL NO!”

For £2.75 Moo was able to play for 2 hours on a bouncy castle, slides, soft climbing thing, soft giant puzzle pieces, and with other crazy toddlers. It was great actually. I especially liked the bouncy castle. Not sure what Moo liked best… I met a few lovely people and, most importantly, learnt that Waitrose is just round the corner and they do coffee. Top tip: buy your ticket at 9:00am, get your coffee from Waitrose, head back to Tumble Time for 9:30am start. Owning it like a Mum.

So, all in all it’s looking good here in Earlsfield. We have the river at the bottom of our garden and the park beyond that. Moo has a massive room and the dogs seem genuinely happy to be here. Apparently there are quite a few stay at home dads in the area, which ultimately means I’m not the anomaly… I don’t know how I feel about that. I quite liked being the novelty in my part of Fulham. But that’s because I’m an ego maniac I guess.


Anyway, back to working out that heating system…