I'm going to be a Dad in a few days, maybe a week or so. It is a strange feeling, cuspal, marking a firm transition from being someone's son to having a son. I'm scared, excited and dreaming about it.
There is the daunting sense of being entirely responsible for a creature that can't really look after itself as well as a new born foal, until it is 21 months old. Then supporting and encouraging him until he is at least 21 years old and the rest. Then there is the life change, a simple weekend away is not just the two of us and a hotel or tent wherever we fancy. There is much more preparation and thought required. So far only one room is over run with baby things, though a lullaby Miffy has made it into our bedroom already. I'm sure the rest of the house will be given over happily to him, much to the cats' chagrin.
Yet in return for these small relinquished freedoms we get to watch our child grow up and take his first step, say his first words, run, climb and become a person. I know that this happens by the million every day across the world, but it happens to someone else and their child.
I've thought about growing up and the decisions I made, forced and unforced and the irresponsibility that childhood offers, it will be a challenge I think. 2006 is not the 1970s and the world is faster, harder and more accessible. Whether we stay in London til he is a teenager is unlikely, so the question becomes when to leave, but not yet.
Walthamstow seems like a nice place to bring up a baby and on towards being a toddler, we've made one step towards that in booking a nursery place for him. Before that we have a first summer to play with him. I'm so looking forward to meeting him and losing sleep in exchange.
