How To Be A Dad

It can't be that be that difficult, surely? What's the worst that can happen?

It has always been my easy-going view that parenting can't be that hard. After all, my parents seemed to thrive on the whole thing - my sister does now. My wife and I look after our 3 nephews regularly and we never have any real problems - the advantage being that we always get to give them back. I've even read a fine book on it from a bloke's viewpoint - all very technical but no curve balls. Pah, there's nothing to it.

Then we had the details arrive of joining for an NCT course in January. Suddenly, it struck me - I'm going to be a dad. Yes, I had gone through the middle-age crisis bit of it - first time dad at 50, but this was reality striking home. The NCT, a superb parenting charitable organisation, offers a 4 session course, one of which I don't have to attend as it is solely on breast feeding - one of the many pieces in the jigsaw of parenting that I cannot contribute to. The other 3 sessions are full day ones.

It's fair to say that I am scared. The little mite boots away at its mum's internals nightly causing her discomfort and interrupted sleep. She is the one who has had to deal with fibroids degenerating and the excruciating pain it caused, the phantom contractions that left in her in hospital for two nights, the tragedy of no clothes fitting anymore and the awesome responsibility of working out which colour the walls need to be painted. I joke little - I'm a spare part for most of this.

As the birth date looms, I now have to train myself to be a decent, responsible parent. I have to confess, I have only once attempted to change a nappy - if it had been filmed it would have made compulsory viewing for anyone handling radioactive materials. The result was that the baby had to be bathed as effluent got everywhere and the gaps between the seal and skin meant that pressurised effluvia was jetting to all parts of the room. As first attempts go, I am sure it was not bad but it had a lasting effect on me.

One of the biggest things I fear is having to work with a dummy baby. I have seen couples wheeling prams with model babies inside and secretly scoffed - they clearly were the dunces of the ante-natal classes in my ignorant view. Now the reality is that I actually need to get my hands on one of them and work out how to properly wind the brutes and attach nappies secure enough to stop escape of seepage while not cutting off the circulation to the legs. What about the routines, the night time crying, bathing, feeding, etc. I am going to have to swallow all my stupid preconceived ideas and knuckle down to training to be a decent father at the very basics.

That's just when the poor thing arrives - just imagine a dolt like me trying to teach it to work, speak or read. First things first, though.

They say you can't teach and old dog tricks - well this old bowser is going to learn a few.