Will is coming home tomorrow.
My thoughtful boss has bought me this book.
If there was a book written for Dad's who are planners, it must be this one.
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He was born last week. 48 hours after Juliette's waters broke. In those two days, I managed to get food poisoning and he managed to pick up an infection. So 8 hours after he was born, he was taken from his mother and placed in the high dependency unit. Poor lad has had a hard week, he struggled to breathe and had to be put on a glucose drip. Apart from us not being able to take him him home, his grandparents, Aunts, Uncles and cousins haven't been able to meet him yet. But he's on the mend how, right now he'll be sleeping peacefully in the arms of his mother in hospital.
We've spent most of the week there, changing him, talking to him and holding him. He should be home by the weekend and I cannot wait. There are no words to describe what it feels like to be a Dad. I love him very much.
By the way, I've bathed him and he loves the water, looks like he'll be a swimmer….
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I sincerely promise I won't be turning this quiet corner of the web into a Dad blog. No one's going to be interested in that stuff (or slightly less interested than the usual rubbish that appears here I should say).
So this is the 'last post but one' post on the imminent baby. The last one will be the one and only picture of the newly born nipper with name, date of birth, and weight. It hasn't been asked it of wants to be online, it can't answer yes or no, so it won't be.
It was due yesterday, could come anytime, I can't concentrate anyway, so I'm off for awhile. Next post I'll be a Dad.
Byee.
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I got the Eurostar to Brussels in August for something or other to do with work.
It was smooth, convenenient, no hassle, no massive check in problems. But something was missing. There isn't the sense of 'leaving' and 'arriving' you get from airports and planes. It's just one train station to another.When you arrive at another airport, there's usually that small walk to the building, or the coach that will take you there. Different light, different landscape, signs, language, theatre, magic, execitement. If you're going somewhere hot, there's that elusive smell of very warm air you don't get where I live.
I'm not convinced you can really talk about an enjoyable experience of actually flying, not for mass market anyway, but I don't know why airlines don't talk about arriving a little more.
By the way, another time I might bash on about the joys of working with the Brussels TBWA office and remembering how good true media/engagement planners are.
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The longer I live the more the things my Dad says make sense
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The wall brought something back that had been dormant for a fair while, something not quite lost, missed without missing it, like when something reminds you of a dead relative you dearly loved.
Making stuff, creating things, expressing yourself. I used to love art, I used to be really good at painting and drawing, but then I just stopped.
That's why I grew up to love cooking things. It's making something. Feeling alive,joy in doing.
So, despite this is a really bad time to start another project, I'm going to look for something els arty to do. Don't expect a Turner, but this will be just for me, quality will be irrelevant.
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Mum and Dad live in Cornwall, which will be 400 miles away from, soon to be born, Baby Northern. Naturally they're less than pleased about this.
They live in St Ives, which is probably the most special place in the world to me. My child doesn't know it yet, but he she will be spending lots of time building sandscastles, playing in the sea, learning to surf and stuff.
So I've solved the 'do we paint the room in girl or boy colour?' problem by doing neither. It's on the way to being a painting of St Ives, where Grandma and Grandad live.
Replete with harbour, Tate Gallery, Grandma and Grandad's house, seagulls and boats..and lots of artistic license.
Like Rolf Harris says, can you see what it is yet?
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On Friday I had to get one of those moody black and white work related portaits done (it's for IPA nominations stuff in case you're interested).
Frustratingly, it seems I just can't do moody, I just look grumpy. I also don't do thoughtful half smile, I just look like psycho.
So that just leaves cheerful.
NORTHERN PLANNER 