National Security … for kids.


Week 18: Choosing a colour

No, stop yourself, that doesn’t mean we are having a baby designed and delivered to the house.  I mean, we’re not celebrities!

No, I am talking about paint.

I’m pretty sure I’ve talked about this before, you know, the whole ‘what are we going to have’ discussion.  Well, I say discussion, it does have the ability to rapidly change into a heated debate, shall we say.  I understand that it is a big decision, and not one to be taken lightly; do you find out?

I started off with the frugal stance of yes, it’ll save us money.  Then, the more you think about it the more you sway towards the excitement and surprise of ‘that’ moment of childbirth.


I still don’t know.  I can’t decide.

Which it makes it even more of a difficult decision on what colour paint to use.  This doesn’t help daddy prepare.

Neautral colours are good, I get that.  Beige is a complete no.  White is too boring and black is, just, weird.

I must admit, last time we painted the bedroom a rather fetching crisp green, a mint colour if you please.  And as much as I try, I’m not allowed to use the same colour.  I mean, I have some left over already…

With only two weeks left to the ‘halfway’ mark, daddy’s jobs are getting more important and I can’t even make a decision.  How have I managed to last this long?!

Anyway, on another note, here we are at Week 18.  Baby is at about 16cm, which is a healthy size.  About the same size as an iPod Touch (plus a bit).  Yeah, that’s right, keeping it 21st century!

Excitement levels have not kicked into overdrive yet, again probably because I’ve not started to do anything, although the wife’s waddle is beginning to show!

OK, I’m sorry…

An apology.


I know, I made all that effort last week to post regularly, all original stuff with hopefully just the right amount of sarcasm and humour, then I go and spoil it all by doing something stupid like forgetting.

No, not forgetting, not making the time.  It is not done out of malice or because of Alzeimers, I just have a very unorganised streak in me.  That and writers block.  I have all this information and stories etc. all stored in my head, but sit me in front of a keyboard and it’s like I’ve transformed into Peter Griffin.  But not as funny.

Aside from the ‘what the hell do I write’ moments, there has also been a small issue of football on the TV.  Obviously, the reason I am on here today to regale you with my words, is that England were knocked out yesterday.  I’m not bitter.  But at least it wasn’t by the hands of the Germans.

I don’t know who is going to win the Euros this year, probably Spain or Germany, but knew it wasn’t go to be England.  That’s not being unpatriotic, just ‘effing realistic.

I know this has not got anything to do with the family, but I have to mention it.  I may have to readjust the emphasis of this blog, so that it is not just focused on me and the little un(s) but just generally, me. 

Is that pretentious?!  Would anybody still read it?!

Week 17: Badom Badom…

So here we are again.  Week 17.  Only 23 to go.  Nearly halfway.

I currently haven’t started doing anything.  Not just in general, but baby specific.  I don’t know why this is, maybe it’s because I already have a child to look after I suppose, I just remember being a bit more organised the first time round.

Not saying that I haven’t thought about what needs to be done and everything else that needs to be considered, I just haven’t started yet.

I have decided on where to buy the paint though.

Anyway, that aside, we have just approached and passed the second big milestone in pregnancy, the heartbeat.

All was well and consistent.  And present.  This time I think the baby positioned itself to be heard, it was found almost instantly.  The last one was a pain, had the wife jiggling about on the bed for ages trying to get a good drumbeat going.

That is a big ‘sigh’ of relief though.  I always found that both scans and finding a heartbeat are probably the most anxious times of pregnancy.  Once you’ve both seen and heard all is well, it usually opens the floodgates for prospective parents to start shopping.  Once it’s been confirmed that it is odds on to arrive on time (or thereabouts) then a ‘shopping’ urge descends and consumes all.

Then there’s the added question of whether you find out what exactly you will be having.  Not all hospitals offer this service and is all dependent on the day, but what do you do?  Say no and keep it as a surprise or say yes and (possibly) save some money?

Mind you, they don’t always get it right…