Anthony Malloy

You can read about my first week as a stay at home dad over on Contemplating Albert.

Well, we’re all still alive and happy so I guess my first day as a stay at home dad can’t have been that disastrous. Pah, who am I kidding – we all did well. Highlights included my paper delivery starting, Bert deciding that morning and afternoon naps were entirely optional and a spectacular poo in place of said afternoon nap. I got some clothes washing done, a bit of housework, some web site development and between kindly relatives checking I (or maybe the kids) were okay and a client wanting to go over her entire new site I spent an hour on the phone. It’s now 8:10 and I’m completely buggered. It’s a bit of a shock to the system when for the past however many years you’ve sat a keyboard for eight hours a day – and that sure is a lot easier on the back.

Exhaustion and ache aside I couldn’t be happier. I know there are sure to be bad days ahead but getting that huge smile when he just wakes up, I wouldn’t swap it for anything.

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here but as of next Monday I’m a stay at home dad for a while. I’m taking 5 months long service leave to look after Bert while Rae goes back to work. It’s going to be very odd waking up each morning and not having to put on a tie or hop in the car to start work. Only tree days more of peak hour traffic, meetings, urgent emails, lunch at the desk, walks up the street to get some fresh air and having to choose that damn tie each morning. It’s going to be different, and I have to say I’m really looking forward to it.

One thing I’m not looking forward to though is the money. I’m taking twice as long at half the pay so money is going to be incredibly tight. Still, I have done our budget and my personal ‘spending’ budget separately. I’m going to have to stick to it – there’s no alternative, but I have allowed myself one little luxury. I’m getting The Age home delivered. It’s been years since I’ve had the satisfaction of wandering out each morning to collect the paper and fighting with the plastic wrap for an hour before reading it. Hopefully I will get a few minutes each day to have a quick scan, if not I wonder if I can train Bert to start reading at this early age so he can sit with me. Wish me luck either way.

The trip up to Shepp was not just to meet our new nephew, we also took care of one piece of outstanding wedding business – we bought the rings. We have close family friends who run a jewellery shop in Shepparton and everybody in our family has purchased their wedding rings from them going back almost 40 years. You simply can’t mess with a tradition like that.

I was slightly alarmed though as when I tried mine on I suddenly found it hard to breath, my heart started thumping and my legs felt compelled to run. I have no idea what it was but the jeweller, my Aunty Pam, assured me it was a surprisingly common reaction in men and given fifty or so years the feeling should pass.

We go back to pick them up in a few weeks, does anyone know if there are any traditions about how to keep rings until the wedding day?

Somewhere in Shepparton there’s a woman who thinks I’m an a) failed terrorist or b) oversexed deviant.

It all started because my sister had a baby on Thursday. Being that Rae is still on maternity leave she headed up on that day and being that I am still at work I said I’d catch the train up on Friday night to join them.

We bordered the train and Crazy Lady demanded her seat be turned around. The very patient conductor acquiesced but as soon as the train started moving she realised she was now facing in the wrong direction and swapped seats. It was then she started staring at me.

I had my laptop with me and was catching up on some television (first season Battlestar Galactica) but noticed she wouldn’t stop staring. I tried to ignore her but once you notice someone is staring at you it’s hard not to be distracted. She kept it up all the way to Shepp – two hours of me watching television and her trying not to look obvious. Finally we got to Shepp and I made my escape.

Fast forward to this morning and I went to brush my teeth. I pressed the on button, nothing happened. Shake shake shake, press. Hmmm. Still nothing. Then it dawned on me; the toothbrush that had been sitting in the front pocket of my backpack must have turned itself on when i dropped it to the floor. I had my headphones on all of the way so I wouldn’t have heard it but Crazy Lady was looking at an unkempt man playing with a laptop who had a buzzing backpack at his feet.

As I said, she probably spent most of the trip trying figure out if I was a rural terrorist or a man with an embarrassing secret. Even I don’t know the answer to that one.

Finally they decided.

Introducing my latest nephew, Xavier Dale Janke.

a quickr pickr post

Apologies for the burst of Cliff Richard there.

Last night I was a bachelor once again. Rae, Stink and Bertie Boy had headed up to Shepp to meet the new arrival but as I am still at work it fell upon my shoulders to stay home and feed the cats.

So, a night of ‘freedom’. No family, just me. What to do? The world was my oyster for one night only.

Yeah, right.

I grabbed takeaway from The Noodlebox, called Rae twice and SMSd her twice more, watched the 1st downloaded episode of Life On Mars and then lay on the couch missing the kids and watching television before heading off to bed at 10.00pm. What an excitement machine I am.