Holding The Baby

I haven't posted much this week. I've been away, see. With the in-laws in Wales. Lovely.

You see, my girlfriends parents live an idyllic life in a little seaside resort. They have a castle at the end of their road. Like, a massive castle. One that was smashed up by Owain Glyndwr (Welsh hero and architectural vandal). And an enormous, never ending sea-view that can hold you for hours, transfixed. I have heard tales of sailors who have thrown themselves overboard because the sea was calling for them. I was ready to jump in when I realised it was just my girlfriend calling for me to make up a bottle.

She often gets a bit bossy when we go away. I think she might by trying to demonstrate how well trained I am (which is very). It does get my goat* a bit though. Eventually I get stroppy and sulk for a day or two and then demand to be driven to Beddgelert for double helpings of ice cream.**

During our stay I took the dogs out on long walks. I feel obliged to do this when we stay because one of the dogs is actually ours who was sent away when careers got too heavy for responsible dog ownership. At one point she looked from the kennels, through the window, to see me holding the baby. Her eyes were full of sadness and perhaps a glimmer of resentment. I think it would be wise to keep the baby away from her.

The walks gave me time to reflect on the last few months.

I don't want to be a bloody martyr here, because so many people face real adversity in their lives, but staying at home with a baby is hard sometimes. Bloody hard.

Its taken me six months to realise this. There has been a gradual dripping away of confidence and an increasing sense of isolation that has only recently surfaced in my consciousness. At first, not having the daily pressures of running this project, writing that report, directing this play, lighting that set etc. seemed wonderful. I was a bit burned out to be honest, sick of having to pull at the hem of inspiration's increasingly frayed dressing gown five times a day. Being at home was a welcome relief.

The thing about having to meet all those varying challenges constantly is that it is well... challenging. Being at home is also challenging but in a monotonous way. Its the same challenge: How the hell am I going to remain alert and interested and stimulating and be a wonderful parent today? Who the hell will I speak to? Will I manage to get out today? How am I going to get through another episode of bastard Ballamory?

I have been, in my usual flippant way, ignoring these feelings. Although I love to moan about petty things, I really am too good at counting my blessings. I'm an awful optimist. My outlook is usually depressingly positive.

But the genie is out of the bottle now. It feels good just to let it go free. Just saying "Fuck, I've been a bit depressed!" is incredibly liberating. I've just had the best afternoon at work for months, I feel very free, just by admitting that actually, parenthood isn't just flowers around the bloody door and group hugs. Its a slow, uphill struggle at times. One that, at moments, might not seem worth it.

We know it is. But its hard sometimes.

Bloody hard.

Pass the ice cream.



*Apparently this phrase originated because it was once common to put a goat in with a skittish thoroughbred racehorse to help calm it. Enterprising villains capitalised on this by gambling on the horse to lose and then stealing the goat. Bastards.

**Wonderful ice cream is available in Beddgelert. It is also the resting place of Gelert the faithful dog of Llewellyn (the last Welsh Prince of Wales) who, due to a misunderstanding, was murdered by his master. The bastard.