Just 18.5 little hours. (paraphrased from the song a little)
At about midnight last night I wrote a draft of the blog when I wasn't in particularly good place. ( I wasn't going to kill myself or anything what I was feeling quite down about being stuck in the house with very little support from a very busy wife) and, in my eyes, failing as a house-husband.
Today, Emilia and I went out for a coffee with a fellow dad, Rupert, and his son, Jaden. As well as a non-parent, Karl who helped keep the conversation a little away from babies for short periods.
A coffee became 2 and before I knew it the whole afternoon had disappeared, Emilia had eaten all her food and we had to beat a hasty retreat before Armageddon ensued.
My advice to all fathers out there (mothers too, it's an equal opportunities world, after all) is to find a friend. Male/female, single/married, black/white/ginger - just ideally make sure they're local enough to meet up with regularly - and take an afternoon a week to meet up, drink something that's not going to make you incapable of looking after the little one, kick back and enjoy being a parent.
There's no job like it.
There's no job like it.
In other news, Emma's hit her deadline at work so is reclaiming a couple of hours worked so managed to tidy the house for me this afternoon, I may even see her for an hour or so this evening and a certain sense of calm has returned to The House of Emoey.
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