Predictably Bad at Blogging

I thought when I started writing a blog that I would probably make it to six posts before I stopped doing it with any sort of regularity.  I made seven.  I know myself too well.

Since I last posted I have been having lots of fun on my bike(s), have not been having all that much fun on basketball courts, have been eating far too much crappy food and have had the incredible pleasure of seeing my unborn baby via the miracle of ultrasound.  It's not really a miracle, it's just really clever.

I'm unspeakably excited to be having a baby!  I am a rare example of the broody man, so knowing that my wife has our formative child inside her is aceness on a level I am at a loss to describe.  The due date is just under twenty weeks from now and we're already accumulating STUFF at an unbelievable rate.  People are very kind when you have a baby on the way, which is why up to now we've not actually had to spend any money on the aforementioned stuff.  I'm sure the crippling lack of cash will soon be upon us, but for now it is being held at bay by other people.

I don't even think I'm all that nervous about the imminent life changing arrival.  I'm sure I'll be metaphorically shitting myself just as much as the baby is actually shitting itself once it arrives though.  I've been reading all about how the last time anyone has all the answers about a baby is the moment prior to the arrival of their first born.  I can believe it.  I was next to a very new baby in the queue at the supermarket earlier today (it wasn't on its own, don't worry) and it was screaming its tiny lungs out; protesting, presumably, at the rude way in which it had been jettisoned from its nine month incubator and into the cold, wintry world.  That or it had realised early that ASDA sucks.  I was transfixed by this child, couldn't stop paying attention to it, but did find myself wondering exactly how long it would take for the novelty of that "cat in distress" type noise to wear off.

If my stamina for blogging is anything to go by, not long.  Poor prospective child of mine, you'd better develop some party tricks pretty quickly, or I might grow tired of you!  Still, I am at least easily pleased; I find pretty much everything babies do totally hilarious, though I have never yet had to deal with the apparent horror of a newborn's crap-filled nappy.  That may be where the humour ends.

It's also where this post is going to end, because my sausages and mash are ready.  Nom nom nom.