Pink Is The Colour
I have a small announcement to make. Don’t fear, unfortunately for you I’m not retiring the blog, or moving to some sun-kissed shores to while away my days – if only.
This announcement is much more exciting, much more life changing and even more tiring than ever before.
You see ladies and gentlemen, our very own dynamic duo are about to be transformed into a tumultuous trio – we’ve another little arrival on its way – and she doesn’t know what’s about to hit her.
There’s going to be two big brothers to look out for a little sister and the clocks are about to be wound back to those heady days of nappies, teething, bottle sterilisation and sleep deprivation. Oh the pure unbridled joy.
‘Utter lunacy’, I hear you cry. And you might well have a point. With a 10-year-old and seven-year-old to constantly humour, how on earth is a newborn baby a sensible plan?
Well here’s the thing, and I’m happy to put it out there (again!). She wasn’t planned. In fact we have no idea how it happened. Not literally obvs – but you know what I mean!
This was an entirely ‘happy’ accident, but one that was extremely enjoyable to make – I’m almost certain.
It took rather a while to sink in to be honest, to get our heads around and to fathom. Could three really be the magic number, I guess we’re about to find out?
Of course a third baby is something we’d previously discussed, and discussed at length. But the upshot was always the same, we were happy with our blessed lot - two boys who keep us on our toes more than enough than not.
New adventures and experiences were beckoning and although those long lost ‘nappy days’ were often mourned, we’d kind of set our sights on the horizon.
So imagine my surprise when Mrs Dad started to get those all too familiar feelings, the hormones coursing and the blood pressure rising.
And imagine my greater surprise when that infamous little tick appeared blue and the bun was confirmed as fully in the oven.
Now imagine my even greater surprise when the 20-week scan and extra nailed-on blood test confirmed without doubt that we were expecting a female dynamo to boot. Cue heads and hearts exploding.
A girl. Yes correct. A girl. After two boys too - thrust into the great unknown once more without so much as a by your leave – whatever was I going to do?
But as the fairy dust settled and the excitement calmed down, came a real sense of renewed energy, of purpose, of hope and optimism.
Let’s not beat around the bush, I’m absolutely prepared for my little madam to run me ragged, and if I’m completely honest, haven’t got a clue what to really expect.
Neither have the ‘bruise brothers’ or the manic menagerie of four-legged friends we foster I’ll wager.
Girls just seem like a completely different species to me – all light, fluffy, unicorn-obsessed and with 101 ways to tie hair that I’m sure I’m never going to master.
It’s footie shirts and joggy bottoms most days here. Tights and tiaras scare the bejesus out of me.
There’s also that nagging fear that this world is not what it once was, however we like to dress it up or skirt around.
Thirty years ago life was very different. My boys’ experience of childhood is in complete contrast to mine, so in 20 years’ time, what on earth will the world be like for my little madam?
I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see, and try not to drive ourselves mad thinking about the endless scenarios that we might or might not end up with.
All we can do is welcome her into this wondrous world with open arms and give her all the love and support we can muster. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to be much of problem.
We’ve still got quite a while to wait, baby girl’s not due until mid-Feb, but one thing’s certain. Girl or boy, crier or sleeper (please sleeper!), footballer or ballerina, unicorn or racing car lover – it doesn’t really matter in the end.
To my darling ‘Ruby Ana Teixeira Wood’ we can’t wait to meet you and let you enchant our lives with the beauty and wonder we’re certain you’ll bless us all with.
Barry Wood is an ex journalist now working for the NHS in Lincolnshire. A father of two boys and husband to one Portuguese wife, he blogs regularly as Desperate Dad. Read more adventures: www.barrylwood.wordpress.com
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