Shoot for the stars

I haven't been posting lately, mainly because the bond between father and son is too beautiful to write about. Our magical family moments are like shooting stars, so dazzling and yet so brief; who am I to drag them back to earth?

Ok ok, I'm just really lazy. Happy now?

Luca's been very busy though, learning, amongst other things, to style his own hair:

He's also been working on a range of new and slightly demented facial expressions, the favourite being the 'laugh-cry', a Mona Lisa-inspired tilt for when he can't decide if he's happy or sad.

And eating. Oh the eating. Any adult who's ever sat through a crap meal must be jealous of the way he can subtly express his displeasure by spitting the offending dish into his hand and rubbing it into his own eyes.

Most of the time he loves food. When he doesn't, we nurture him through mealtimes with the sheer force of our goodness. Either that or just stick the laptop on and stuff food into his mouth before he has time to think about it.

Don't judge us. 'Pingu Goes Snowboarding' is actually very educational.

Having a quick check around my favourite baby blogs, I am amazed and a bit ashamed to note that Mum's yoga and baby buddy Emily is still posting on The Shock of the Two almost daily. Despite have twice as many babies and even more chaotic mealtimes. Some bloggers are just dedicated.

The greatest day of my life

Thursday 7 May 2009 was the the greatest day of my life and this is why:

Luca Frederick Holborn Fleming is four days old. His arrival laid to rest any lingering insecurities I had about the direction my life was taking. 'Direction' seems a silly concept now, meaningless next the simple fact of my son and girlfriend dozing together on the sofa behind me, all peace and mumbles.

Like many men I had fantasies about what I wanted to be: footballer, rock star, ninja. Like most men they remain unfulfilled, although having two left feet and all the rhythm of a steak pie made this easier to accept.

And now, with a nine-to-five and a family to look after, I may concede that the opportunity to develop the pinpoint reflexes and agility necessary to become a ninja has passed.

Having said that, when Luca unleashed a proud arc of piss into the air while I was changing his nappy yesterday, I managed to catch at least 20% of it in a small clump of cotton balls. Pinpoint reflexes? Check. Ninja-like agility? Check. The rest of the wee still ended up all over both of us, but I'm just saying.

Before I became a dad the main reasons I picked up a newspaper or switched on my computer were politics, sport or poker. All of which have an impossible amount of news and blogs to digest, and I could lose days with them. Fatherhood, which I hear is a popular pursuit, has nothing like it (although a quick search revealed some great stuff here and here, and I'll keep looking).

I understand it could never have the impact of a Champions League semi-final or MPs' expenses scandal, but being a dad happens to quite a lot of people, and I want to share this world of wonder. I also want help. Lots of it. 

For my money, the just-do-what-feels-natural school of parenting is absurd to me. Why go alone where billions have gone before? Let's share the glory and the gore. Please comment or email me with hints, tips and old wives' tales. Tell me if you agree with me; tell me if you think I'm a rubbish parent. In return, I'll post as often and honestly as possible on the triumphs and disasters my new family finds along the way.