Monthly Archives: February 2013

Nesting Part 2 – the finishing touches

We have a date! The coutdown is on! 3-3-13 is The Wife’s induction date, which in blog terms is fortunate because both Americans and people who write dates properly will read it as the same date. Buddhists unfortunately would read this as me having a son aged 544 with it currently being the year 2557, can’t please everyone I suppose. Anyway I digress.

With the bestowal of a date the offensive against all things grime has intensified, a “Shock and Awe” approach to bacteria seems to have paid off. I have hoovered places in our house that I didn’t know hoovers could go.

The Boy’s room is painted, the buggy (stroller) with “whoomph folding” is built, the basinet is assembled, the clothes are washed and stacked in age order and the formerly ridiculous 4 x 4 now has a “capsule” bolted in place. I am no longer driving a Remuera Tractor, it is now a Dad Mobile. I am a little sad the “capsule” won’t live up to it’s name, it isn’t going into orbit or to the moon (yes, I know, technically also in orbit) it will be going to the Supermarket and maybe even a longer mission into town, to get a coffee. “The Eagle has landed, can I have two decaf mochas and a Latte”, “It’s one small step for man, and a Cappuchino for Dad”.

Needless to say I am very Very VERY excited …….. and nervous. Wish me luck!

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Just keep smiling, look straight ahead and say nothing – A doctor negotiating ante-natal classes.

I have been worrying about this for a while.

I have heard horror stories from colleagues of blazing rows and pointless futile arguments. Stories of brave warriors confronting unyielding walls of nonsensical pseudoscience and coming away battered and bruised with a very pissed off wife. This doctor is about to enter THE ANTE-NATAL CLASS!

I had been dreading having to listen to some earth mother homeopathist homebirther rant at us about the evils of vaccinations, how they cause plague, epilepsy and …. um… Osgood-Schlatter disease. I forget what is it that stupid people say vaccinations cause again, I would look it up …. but it’s hard to look up unpublished, non existent data (I could probably find the fraudulent data that started it all, if it hadn’t been retracted).

It was with great trepidation that I entered “The Parents Centre”. Antenatal Classes are quite important for us, we live 12,000 miles (literally) from our nearest family so we are rather alone. I was desperate not to look like a prat, psycho or know-it-all in front of potential friends that have only just met us. A surefire way of probably achieving all three impressions would be to have an argument over something like homeopathy or vaccinations with the person running the class. Being the Dad and not the doctor is my challenge.

As it happened, news of my profession slipped out and soon I was being asked “What do you think Nerd Dad” by the “birth educator”. This was embarassing.

Bear in mind I do general and respiratory medicine. The last time I saw a placenta was in medical school, I poked it and it squirted gore at me and I nearly spewed, I know next to nothing about all the medical bits. Saying “You are a doctor, tell me about the complexities of placentas” is like saying to a french teacher “you are a language teacher, how do I say “This constitution in unacceptable” in Swahili?”. I had three options, smile vacantly and make a sort of “uuuugh” noise, Bullshit my way out of trouble (Something I am very good at, given my profession) or impart my, probably flawed but well intentioned rudimentary knowledge of babymaking bits to the class. I chose option 3.

I couldn’t use my usual flippant response to gynaecological questions* which get asked of us doctors in social occasions disturbingly often. Why do people do that? Do  dentists get asked to do fillings on kitchen tables? Do IT specialists get asked to reconfigure routers? … maybe. But why would you bring up your defective bodily functions in polite company …. ever, regardless of the presence of a physician? What do they expect me to do? Excise their mole there and then with a steak knife? Do some intimate examination in the kitchen?

Anyway, I digress. So far the classes have been fine. I almost leaped with joy when the educator answered the question “What about alternative therapies like homeopathy or reiki” with a blank look and “I have no idea, I have seen no evidence for it, ask a homeopathist if you are interested” … I could have kissed her!

So, the not-so undercover foray into antenatal classes is progressing well. We have made some friends, none of which seem to think I’m a psycho.

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The Parents Centre is the organisation providing our classes. There is some good advice on their site.

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* This response is “I’m afraid my recent experience in that area is entirely recreational and as a married man rather infrequent. You had better ask someone who knows what they are talking about.”

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Getting dirty ……. and what the hell is chervil?

Today I got dirty. I have intended to do this for months and months. Today I left the dark comfort of my nerd-lair and headed out to where the manly-men live, the DIY store.

My quest was veggies for the veggie garden. I had already built, YES I BUILT IT (from a kit), some raised beds, got some mud in ’em and it was time for veggies. The idiot in me fancied growing some Northland Tomato plants, because it would be moronic and funny, but pointless as I do not partake. Probably one of those bad influence kinda-things Dads shouldn’t get up to. (See? I’m  learning, I say ****, ****, and **** a lot less now but can’t stop saying Bugger).

First port of call – books. I have slowly accumulated a few books on growing vegetables so, in true nerd style, I read up and decided what to get. Before reading I intended to get carrots, parsnips, lettuce, silver beet and spring onions. After much reading and deliberation and seeking of online advice I ignored everything I had read and set off for Carrots, Parsnips, lettuce, silverbeet and spring onions. Fortuitously not completely stupid choices for February in NZ, though they all wax lyrical about chervil, what the hell is chervil?

So, the DIY store, the bastion of the gorilla alpha male, wall building, kitchen fitting, plumbing, super-man. Not made for nerds, it doesn’t sell computer games, CDs or amusing T-shirts. It does however sell POWER TOOLS! No man can resist a look at POWER TOOLS. Thankfully The Wife usually chaperones me in the DIY store to ensure I dont emerge grinning revving some 3 foot Husqvarna fourstroke chainsaw. She won’t even let me get a piddly little hedge trimmer, on the grounds that I need all my fingers, which is wrong – I only use two to type. I had to resist and scuttled past all the lethal  sharp shiny things with my eyes averted.

I swaggered around trying to look manly amongst the veggies. I grabbed a few punnets of green things that proported to be lettuce, onions, spinach and …. stuff and some packs of seeds, none of which were the mythical chervil. I rushed home and started playing in the mud, putting my purchases in lines.

This'll feed us for months!

This’ll feed us for months!

My first thought on completion was that The Boy now has a reduced likelihood of Crohn’s disease. Yes, honestly, my first thought. You can take The Nerd out of his clinic …….

It now looks like a veggie garden. There are plants and mud in a non-random pattern – I now garden! Having admired the fruits of my immense horticultural prowess I have realised, they don’t do much do they these plants?

So, contemplating my day’s work, sitting in my garden listening to wind chimes, drinking homebrewed beer I am wondering, have I miscategorised myself? Should I be Hippie Dad? ….. No, he wouldn’t be blogging about it on his Mac at the same time!

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Another Blog

A quick link to another blog. I sort of have to mention this one, partly because I think it’s great but mainly because its The Wife’s blog.

The Wife saw how much fun I was having pottering around on my blog and decided to write her own. Instead of writing reams of garbage like me she is making crafty stuff for the lad. So far we have a cuddly robot and an alien (I told you she was nerdy!). The nesting instinct has truly kicked in!

Check out Hand Made Mummy.

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Filed under craft, Dads, Good Blog, Nerd