Back to work blues

I woke up this morning,
With dread in my heart,
I knew come tomorrow,
We’d spend time apart.

I got to be gone though,
Make us some more money,
Keep as as we’re used to,
In marmite and honey.

It can’t be all bad, eh?,
cos whenever I go,
There’s coming back home soon,
To see both of yo.

They say it feels manly,
They say you feel tough,
Come home to your family,
Earnt a good crust.

While that gives me comfort,
And returning gives hope,
I’d still rather stay here,
And hang out with you both.

Quickly normal

Quickly you’ve become,
Understatedly mum,
Incredibly adaptable,
Clearly unstoppable,
Keeping the nights quiet,
Leaving the room silent,
You are the queen of the night.

New light, morning haze,
Only safe, peaceful days,
Really proud of you lovely,
Mother suits you so comfortably,
As if you always were,
Love you more and more.

Counting Time

3, 1, 1, 3,
5, 1, 15,
Hours or minutes we count to see,
How good a pair of parents we’ve been.

How long has he slept?
When did he last eat?
What a schedule we’ve kept,
So tidy and neat.

But then he’ll change all the rules,
Tiny minds can be fickle,
Up his output of stinky stools,
And his need for tickle.

Poo

Baby’s poo,
Oh yes they do,
It starts like goo,
From black to blue.

Then brown it goes,
Milky on the nose,
Keep it off his toes,
Watch how it flows.

Farts are tremendous,
Follow through stupendous,
I’m sure when on the bus,
All will snigger with us.

Every morning entrall,
What does it hold withall,
I’ll name this one Carl,
Looks just like Tarka Dhal.

You lucky, lucky people

Waking up every few hours overnight,
It may seem a chore, and it’s hard to be bright,
But every demand is joyously met,
And I can’t believe how lucky I get.

It’s a privilege to spend time with the boy,
Like having a go on the schools best toy,
When he studies every line on your face,
You can’t believe he rests his eyes in that place.

It’s understood he doesn’t know how to smile,
But when the corners of the mouth turn higher,
It’s a foolish pleasure to consider yourself,
The cause of amusement in his little grey cells.

Ridiculous Pride

Today I hung out washing,
Not much you might think,
However it was baby clothes,
And I’m proud as a pig in shit.

First night home is crazy,
I found my edge for sure,
When he won’t stop crying,
You want to drop through the floor.

But you just keep on trying,
You walk and bounce and growl,
And then the munch is ready,
So wipe your tears with a towel.

Finally here’s some smugness,
Or is it justified?
The wife and child are amazing,
And I’m going to burst with pride.

Baby gets born

Finally induction begins, the baby needs a hand,
A little bit of synthetic hormone to stimulate a gland,
Walking the streets, gravity helps us out,
Soon enough we’re off, she’s breathing the baby down.

Contractions getting stronger, muscles tightening hard,
A moment comes when it’s all too much, no comfort to be had,
Breath it through, let nature work, We take her away from the way it all feels,
No drugs are needed, she’s in control, her mind is walking in green fields.

Water’s break? no that’s not water,
don’t worry though it’s as it ought to,
Let’s see what’s up, how far we’ve got,
fingers feel, the news not hot.

Still that bloods a bit exciting, let’s go though,
Give it a bit longer, see what to do.
Just another half an hour, suck on that gas and air,
She’s looking knacked, I hope it’s close, I don’t know how much more to bear.

A bellow sound emits from her, “Do you want to push dear?”,
A disbelieving yes is all we hear,
Another quick look, “Aren’t you a clever girl?”,
You’re full there, it’s time to bring it to the world.

Suddenly there’s seconds of lucid, everything’s different,
The waves pull back and crash, she’s surfing the baby out,
Push when I say, hold when I don’t,
She’s so in control, she won’t let him choke.

One more time, just one more time,
3 pushes per contraction, the head’s out it’s insane!
Out falls the boy, straight onto mother,
Heartbeats strong, a towel for cover,
The world’s a cold and windy place,
I can see it all in your screaming face.

No good

Baby still not out,

Wife still feeling ill.

No Good.

(I’ll be back when there’s a baby to write about)

Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow…

You’re running out of time little friend,
And I’m running out of mileage,
Doctors want this pregnancy to end,
And I’m running out of rhymeage.

Let’s see what the man has to say this afternoon,
Maybe he’ll get things moving,
Or maybe your mother will still be coughing at the moon,
If the chest infection’s precluding.

At least when you get here, I’ll have something else to write about,
I’m going to expound on all our joy,
I’m going to be a cliche and tell the world you’re out,
We’ll love you madly all the same, be you girl or boy.

Stay a while

Funny thing happened on the way to a labour,
Lady gets a cough and cold, do us a little favour?
I’m guessing you don’t fancy it in any other case,
But if you could hang just a bit, that would be great.

She’s not quite ready, not there yet, still a little gasping,
Just another twenty four, that’s all that we are asking.
Let her have a bit of sleep, let her rest her bones,
What’s another day my friend, it’s not like we’re alone.

We’ll say tomorrow then? quite early in the morning?
You get here, we’ll have a nap, I’ll wake you with my snoring.
Keep safe in there and see you soon, it’s going to be a treat,
With you, your mother, me as well, the pictures sickly sweet.