Something in the water?

Pregnancy seems to be on the increase it would seem, or at least within the worlds I move in. I now know of four people who are expecting within three weeks either side of our due date. Two of these are people at work, of which I know very little. One is a friend of mine I've known since the age of 11, it's going to be his first, and I am totally thrilled for him. He is great around kids, even though he seems to doubt his own abilities, and I am sure he will make a great father. He got married last year and they were both keen to start a family as soon as possible (none of us are getting any younger), fantastically it has happened quickly for them, especially as they went through the agonies of a miscarriage late last year. The last one I know of is a friend of my wife's, and the circumstances are somewhat different. This pregnancy was unplanned (no judgement there, those in glass houses etc), but the situation is certainly not one I would wish to contemplate. She is 29, still lives at home with her parents and is currently off work with depression. This pregnancy now means she is off her medication and already her mood seems to be shifting downward. My concerns arise not only from her medical issues but also from the relationship she is in. She has known the man she is having a baby with for 4 months, not a big qualm there, if someone is right for you great. However they actually met on an internet dating site, e-mailed each other for 3 months before meeting for real. So within a month of actually seeing this person in the flesh she is having a baby with him. He has now moved to the area after being made redundant, and work as a temp, when he can get work. He lives in a small flat above a busy bar, not the ideal location for raising a baby. Her parents have now disowned her, a fact not helping her illness, and they are facing tough times ahead. They need to find a new home to live in, get him a permanent job and come to terms with the fact that they are going to be parents, all without the support of close family near by. I guess this is the ultimate test of a new relationship - I'm not sure I could move across the country, try and start a meaningful relationship, try and find a permanent job and deal with the fact that I am going to be a father for the first time with someone I have barely met. Perhaps this is a reflection of my lack of character, or because I am unable to place myself in that position mentally. I wish them well, they are going to need all the luck they can get.

All the fun

Last night, or rather evening was spent in the local park visiting a fun fair - a term I'm going to stick with, although in reality Trading Standards could be called in to investigate such a claim. I finally realised that I am getting seriously old. What sparked this realisation? The fact that we were having to visit before our children's bed time came round? (and fairs always look better in the dark) The fact that none of the rides looked remotely interesting? Although in fairness (no pun intended) a local park's fair is not going to compete with Alton Towers. No, it was the fact that there were groups of youths hanging around trying to look tough and intimidate people by their presence. How did that make me feel old? It was the realisation that I wasn't a target for their efforts at intimidation, just an "old" man out with his kids. The range of rides was pretty limited - a few long slides, a ghost train, a waltzer and some roundabouts. My 5 and a half year old decided he was too big for the kiddie rides, and we decided he was too small for the larger rides. The comprimise was reached - the dodgems. I was delegated to accompany eldest on the excursion, something I always dread as I have unfeasibly long legs which always end up getting battered by the impacts. Still my wife is pregnant, and whilst the thought of making her go on it crossed my mind, common sense and what little chivalry I possess prevailed. Now while my son likes driving fast round dodgems, he is not overly keen on hitting people or being hit. In that sense he is a dodgems purist. However most people take the term dodgem to mean ram all others at the highest speed possible and at the angle most likely to cause whiplash. Last night brought out the best in my driving skills, considering there were at least 10 other cars going round we only suffered one severe impact. A testament to my defensive driving abilities. After a lacklustre visit to the Fun House - a misnomer if ever there were one - tiredness had set in and apathy ruled. My son decided he wanted to go home and go to bed. However, goaded by my wife, I was convinced to have a go at winning aprize on one of the booths. Our one year old daughter had become transfixed by some Winnie the Pooh teddies. Ever the willing parent I tried my luck at hooking a duck to win one. Success - one was snared easily and a warm sense of victory engulfed me. Until it became apparent that the ducks were colour coded on the bottom to decide which prize you had won. Sadly my prey wasn't the correct colour for a Pooh teddy, you can probably guess what my endeavours had secured us - yes, a goldfish. For which we now had to procure a bowl, gravel and food, for what seemed an exorbitant price - perhaps it's really gold - must check tonight. My son suddenly perked up at this prize, he was excited at the prospect of having this fish to look after. Sensing a real opportunity to give him responsibility we readily agreed to him looking after the fish. Would he like to name it we asked? Whenever faced with a name choice he usually reverts to the name of a classmate, and he clearly had no knowledge of Jaws or other predictable names. His final choice left me wondering if he had fallen on his head badly as a small child without us noticing: we now have a pet called Woof the Fish.

It couldn't last!

There I was all proud of two days consecutive posts and then I go and spoil it. In my defence I can only blog at work and whilst I was supposed to be on holiday for half the day, it turned into a full day, a fact totally beyond my control. Friday AM was the day of the first planned scan of this pregnancy, followed by an appointment with the midwife and obstetrician. As this was our third child, I assumed the whole process would be fairly painless and certainly not time consuming. How wrong can you be? First call the Ante-natal clinic to check in - then a walk across half of the hospital to the scanning department. A wait of half an hour, then a scan, coo at the blob on the screen and wait 10 minutes for the notes of the scan to be written up. Walk back to ante-natal again. Wait half an hour to see a midwife, talk through what will happen, copious notes taken, brief discussion of suspected miscarriage, to be discussed in detail with the consultant, and there's another 40 minutes gone. Another wait of 20 minutes to see the consultant and then the nitty gritty is sorted. Because of the planned caesarian required we've got a definite date of delivery 6 January 2005. The next issue discussed was the tying of my wife's tubes - makes sense to have it done while they're in there pulling out our next creation. Surprisingly the consultant brought it up before we had chance to - we had been warned that because this would be my wife's third caesarian it would likely be her last, due to the danger of scar tissue tearing, not a pleasant mental image. Whilst it was great to get reassurance that all is well and to receive a definite date of delivery, it meant that we spent from 9.05 am to 1.30 pm in the hospital. Making my return to work slightly impractical. It wasn't even the nicest of days either. Not only have I wrecked my blogging miracle, but I have now also created a deadline crisis for myself. Back to the grindstone.

Miracle

Two posts in two days - just call me the comeback kid. Time for soemthing work related perhaps, after all this other excitement. How do you deal with staff who just can't cut it, yet you're in an organisation that frowns upon sacking people or even making them redundant? Now in some ways that sounds fairly Utopian, an understanding, considerate employer. However we are funded by people's council tax, and therefore should be thinking about how effectively we utilise that. My case in point, is a lady, let's call her Mrs X, who has worked here for 11, count them, 11 years. In that time she has never once had a promotion or endeavoured to change her component jobs in any way. I find that scary - I know everyone has the right to have no ambitions, but to do the same monotonous job for 11 years is a bit extreme in my book. Even scarier is the number of managers she has had during that time - at the last count 6 - all of whom are still employed here, but were unable to cope with her actions. Guess which lucky bloke got to be her latest manager recently? Interruption to entry Mrs X has just rung to say that she has an upset stomach and will not be coming in today, although quite why that makes your voice sound like you've been gargling acid I don't know. Could it be for effect? My efforts to get Mrs X to do more constructive work seemed to get off to a good start, she was willing to take on more challenging work, in return for more money obviously. However it has since become apparent that she is unable to do this new work. Today we were meant to be having a review meeting to see how the work is progressing (badly from my first glances at the figures), so that may be the reason for the upset stomach. Memo to self: try and stop being so cynical and come back to this topic at a later date.

Catch Up Time

Hmmm - almost a full month since I last posted. This would lead me to one of two conclusions: 1. I have no real desire to do this really or 2. My life is such a maelstrom at the moment that chances to blog are few and far between. I think I can rule out 1. as I'm now doing this - really! so that leaves 2. I am starting to believe that life is ultimately a huge stress test - how much can you handle before you crack, retreat to a corner and suck your thumb, removing it occasionally to say "Wibble"? Further to the previous posts regarding re-alignment where I work and the upcoming house move, life has dealt me a few more cards to shuffle. If I may use a poker analogy, there has certainly been a flop, the stakes have been raised and I'm not sure if the turn and river cards hold salvation or damnation. In the time since I last posted I have discovered that my Father-in-Law has been diagnosed with cancer, and we are to expect our third child around the coming New Year. Further to the pregnancy announcement we have had to deal with a suspected miscarriage, involving lots of blood, an ambulance trip and nursing staff who seemed as amaze as me that the foetus was still in-situ and fine. That was a strange sensation, I had just come to terms with the prospect of another baby, adding to our 5 year old and 1 year old current progeny. Then after the "miscarriage" on a Sunday, with no ability on that day to have scan to confirm the situation, I had mentally come to terms with losing the baby. Only for the scan on the Monday morning to tell me that I was indeed going to be a father again. A veritable roller coaster of emotions. Life at the moment seems like a bit of a treadmill, I seem to be getting nowhere fast, and it's getting harder to keep the same pace up. When I start to deal with one issue another is heaped onto the pile. having said that there is always someone worse off than you.