Day 21 – Shakespears Sister – Hello (Turn Your Radio On)
June 5th 1993 was the day I became a dad for the first time.
I had always wanted children. I LOVE children; mainly because I am, and always have been, a child myself.
My mind has always been able to descend to the right level of immaturity to match the wavelength of a young person.
It is easy for me.
I have a deep sense of fun and can watch and play with kids for hours.
The next step in W’s plan was children and, because the thought of being a dad excited me, I was a willing participant. I have posted before about the actual birth of Stephen so I won’t bore you with all that again.
However, the aftermath of that experience was something that brought W and I closer together. We both had no idea what we were doing and we were terrified. A new human being lived with us and was totally and utterly dependent upon us.
And we were clueless.
We found ourselves struggling to stay awake, and coping with a screaming, puking, shitting, pissing lump of flesh that kept us awake. We were so tired that we stumbled around like two zombies, doing chores on autopilot and in a constant daze and state of stupor.
But I loved it.
Work was particularly tough and I found myself working long hours and then coming home to have a wailing ball of humanity dumped into my arms, as W had a well–deserved respite from the trauma of the day.
But we had it easy. Compared with other friends who had children at the same time, Stephen was a completely laid back child. He was sleeping through the night from a very early age but on those nights when he decided to scream, I found myself walking around our house, gently rocking him at 3 o’clock in the morning.
Somebody told me that taking a baby out for a drive always worked – it didn’t. Sometimes it did but most times it failed.
In desperation I opted for some soothing music and found a song that worked; Hello (Turn Your Radio On).
W had bought the album some time earlier but Stephen responded to me as I sang along to the words of the song. Sometimes I just sat in the chair gently rocking him and singing the chorus over and over again; others I put on the CD at a low volume and gently rocked him in the chair.
There were a number of times when I fell asleep and W would get up in the morning to find us both snoring away in the chair.
It got easier, dear reader.
In fact, as far as kids are concerned, I believe that it simply gets better. As your child grows, life becomes infinitely more interesting and lovely.
I love all kids and it is a shame in some ways that they are both grown up now. There is something missing and while that’s a good thing it is also sad.
The best part of my life was seeing the birth of Stephen and then three years later, Michael – and then watching them grow up and become the two young men they are now.
I have W to thank for that.
And I truly and sincerely mean that.
