Susie was the key note speaker at a women’s conference and on the Saturday she fed Tyson and off she went. I obviously needed to feed him, clothe him, do the nappy thing (which all men love), and drive for 45 minutes to a place I have never been before.
At the same time I was trying to remotely manage a LightFM event that was on that evening so there were text messages, phone calls, emails, and the writing of website stories required. I also had to dry my jeans, iron my shirt, trim my beard, shave, and lay out the suit coat that I will wear later that evening.
Susie left at about 7:30am and I had to be at her conference at 2pm. Therefore I had six and a half hours to do all this and that sounded reasonable to me.
The testosterone was rife in the house as Tyson and I enjoyed each other’s company with lots of smiles and fun. We were chilling out and between the laughs I popped onto the computer and did work.
Then when I needed to get his clothes ready and iron my shirt I realised he was less than keen on me going into another room without him. Every time I left the room he would cry and I was getting a little stressed. I couldn’t hold him in my arms while I was working with a hot iron although as a typical male
I did consider getting him to iron it for me.
I went to get his clothes and he cried. I went to prepare my shower and he cried, I tried to trim my beard and he cried. So being the creative type I am I used the Daddy Daycare skills and utilised my ¾ filled dirty washing basket. In he went with his rattle and it functioned as a baby seat that was dragged around the house.
As I ironed the shirt, trimmed my beard, picked out his clothes, had a shower – there he was in the dirty washing, happy as he could be and the testosterone smell in the air had never been stronger.
He was happy and so was I. However I was fast running out of time. He had to be fed some solids and I hadn’t packed his baby bag and I needed to pack the clothes. He started to get tired by now and was crying a little more than usual and I was started to get stressed and was sweating more than usual.
By 1pm I was wound so tight that if the doorbell rang I would have spontaneously combusted. I was on Daddy Daycare edge.
Susie rang at 1:30 (half an hour before I was supposed to be at the conference which is 45 minutes away) and asked if I was going ok.
OK? OK? NO I WASN’T OK! I was in a Daddy Daycare nightmare and I wanted his mummy.
Everyday Susie balanced what she needed to do and what Tyson needed from her and seemed all together when I got home from work. She did this juggling act every day and I don’t think I had fully appreciated it. Now I do.
In the end I appreciated my wife more than I had before; Susie had a powerful time speaking at the women’s conference; Tyson was surprisingly in a happy mood; and I was able to teach Susie new uses for the dirty washing.
Oh and I managed to get to the conference an hour late but with both Tyson and I in one piece and a reasonably together frame of mind.
