These days, just a moment to call my own
DOUBLE TROUBLE FOR A FIRST-TIME DAD OF TWINS
THE bright morning sunshine shone through my car window, while Zoe Ball breathlessly jabbered away on the radio, and I relaxed in the comfort of my own space.
I felt like the king of the world. Two years ago, this would have been the annoying drive to work, but things have changed.
I’ve learned to appreciate the simpler things in life, like sitting down and not being asked to do something. Behind me at home were two toddlers with colds, various demands and surprisingly loud voices.
Naturally, behind every winner there’s a loser and this was Victoria, but she’ll get her day in the sunshine tomorrow, when they’re in nursery.
Later in the day, I had to go to the hospital for blood tests and thought I’d look at Facebook, for a balanced and accurate portrayal of the day’s news.
I had a watery coffee and was sitting on a plastic chair in a busy corridor full of sick people when ‘this is nice’ crossed my mind.
Earlier in the year, I’d also discovered how a drink in a large commercial chain of coffee shops made me feel like George Clooney on the balcony of his Italian villa.
One day, I finished work a little early, bought a paper and somehow found myself in Costa.
Technically, I was avoiding the
traffic and most definitely not the potentially difficult tea-time.
This glimpse of cossetted luxury was nothing compared to going out for a meal without the twins.
We’ve been for meals with them and although it’s fun, you’d never say dining with toddlers is relaxing.
Obviously, we’d left them in the capable hands of a babysitter, who balanced trustworthy with reasonably priced.
I felt like Henry VIII at a celebratory banquet as the waiter brought alcohol and food.
Over the last 17 months, I’d adapted to shovelling food into my mouth while standing in the kitchen.
Thankfully, this lowering the bar of a good time is not peculiar to me.
It was my gran’s funeral three months ago. I was explaining to a friend, who has two slightly older children, we weren’t taking the twins because it was a long drive.
My friend asked if there’d be a buffet and I said ‘yes, in the local pub’.
‘Oh well, least it’ll be a good day out without the kids,’ he said.
Now, I haven’t quite reached the point in my life where the funeral of a much-loved relative is treated as a ‘good day out’ but this kind of statement implies childcare gets harder before it gets easier.