So it's been about a year. I do hope no one was holding their breath... My condolences to their nearest and dearest if so. And congratulations, that must have been some sort of record?!
Many and much has happened since last we spoke... We've got a new car, I've brewed some beer and, oh yes! Had a baby and moved to Kilkenny.
So far, I love being a dad. When we found out we were pregnant, I was - like I'm sure a lot of new dad's - shocked, amazed, terrified, elated, nervous... You get the idea. Since then, we've run the emotional roller-coaster of pregnancy, moved out of Dublin to Kilkenny (by way of the metropolis that is Thurles), started a new job (or two) and been there to witness a tiny little man burst forth from my wife in magical and icky fashion.
I'm not the first of my friends to have a child, although this is the first grandchild on my parents side, so there's a lot of extra excitement. I have to say that I've always found new parents pretty annoying - their child is of course the best the most advanced, the cutest. Theirs is the one with the worst colic, theirs sleeps either the most or the least. Theirs is the only thing they can talk about and while it means the world to them, eventually it becomes a little annoying to everyone else. I really don't want to become one of those parents. I will fight it with all I have!
Because we were pregnant, we decided to leave Dublin - great as it is - and move down to Kilkenny... Not as easy as it first seemed as places to rent in Kilkenny are as rare as hens* teeth, but through Jo's remarkable perseverance and a fever stroke of luck, we got a flat in a cool development that looks like a cross between a Spanish holiday village and Moon Base Alpha.
Kilkenny is cool. A castle with beautiful grounds, a picturesque river, the best hurling in the world just next door**, more pubs than the average liver can handle, and a Michelin starred restaurant on our doorstep. We might not get to eat there that much because, you know, baby. He ain't cheap. And shouty little lads aren't most desirable patrons in a classy joint like that, but they've welcomed us with open arms when we've dared to go (or be taken... Thanks parents!). There's a lot to like here, and we're finding more of it all the time.
All of this has meant a massive change of pace. No more all night benders, no more A-list parties, no more spur of the moment holidays to the Maldives, no more making up lies about the sort of life I lead (I found the last one too difficult to give up, apparently).
It has also meant looking at something so small and fragile and perfect and wondering how on earth I am supposed to keep it safe and happy. Learning how to pick up and carry a squirming sack of cuteness, how to change a nappy, to set up a pram one handed, to tip toe around the place as if there's a noise sensitive claymore just 3ft away.... It is a roller-coaster of a journey, one you can ride with a third of the sleep you're used to and that you know will last for the next 18 to 30 years, depending on how things go...
But it's worth it. He's hilarious** and awesome, and I would recommend having a kid, provided they're a good as ours. Which they won't be, because he's the best in the world and no one has ever seen a baby as cool or fun or clever or cute as mine and... Oh right, yeah...
*heroin addict
***that might be the sleep deprivation, what with him not talking or anything yet
