Today I am pleased to say I completed the second of the two jobs that are compulsory for every dad to do… I registered the birth of my son with the local council. I am particularly proud to have resisted the urge to give him a totally different name (perhaps the entire Liverpool football team, or something awesome like “Zaltor the Magnificent” or “Odin the Destroyer”) and so returned home the proud owner of an official and correctly spelled birth certificate.
The first of the two jobs I had to do was done just over nine months ago (and was not really a chore either!) and so I guess now my work as a dad is done… Right?
I am joking of course… But this did bring into focus just how much my wife (and every other mum) has been through, and continues to go through in growing, making, giving birth to, feeding and looking after our son. It’s actually quite hard as a dad to really be able to do much at all of any value to help as, especially up to this point, he has been and continues to be so attached to his mum (quite literally) that I am just trying to rally round and give as much help where and when I can.
This includes being named “the poo master general” (I.e. taking as much responsibility as I can for nappy duties – a job I bizarrely enjoy a lot more than I ever thought I would!!!) and of course making sure we have a steady flow of snacks and food (though I think I am eating most of it – see my earlier post re Dad Diets!!)
I do wish I could do more though… Though I am sure over the coming years there will be plenty of early morning football practices and late night taxi services I can offer…