Yummy Dad, Slummy Dad

One of the hardest thing about having a new daughter is that the time for the things I used to take for granted has disappeared. Whether it's sitting in front of TV, reading a book or looking something up on the internet, there's now always a certain someone else wanting attention. More importantly, she's someone I want to give all my attention to.

I used to have a real need to get out of the flat, with all the parks around here it doesn't take long to throw on the running shoes and get some fresh air. But now it's winter and it's dark and cold out there while my warm daughter is inside and she is definitely the more attractive option.

So I'm now more likely to throw on an old polar fleece than my running shoes when I walk in the door. Like wearing out the shoes used to be a runner's badge of honour, now it's my shirt that's covered in baby sick (yes it's also washed every couple of days!) that is my uniform.

So the intellectual, athletic, serious non-Dad is slowly changing into a fun time, slummy Dad. Maybe it's just a phase, but I can see the cardigan, pipe and slippers cliche drawing ever closer. I'm not sure what's more scary - that I can see it happening, or that it doesn't worry me.