A good word

Reesy recent email to me was a good word. Thought it was worth a post:

Psalm 127
A song of ascents.

1 Unless the LORD builds the house,

its builders labor in vain.

Unless the LORD watches over the city,

the watchmen stand guard in vain.

2 In vain you rise early

and stay up late,

toiling for food to eat-

for he grants sleep to those he loves.



3 Sons are a heritage from the LORD ,

children a reward from him.

4 Like arrows in the hands of a warrior

are sons born in one's youth.

5 Blessed is the man

whose quiver is full of them.

They will not be put to shame

when they contend with their enemies in the gate.

The litle guy makes his first appearence on his own blog 

The doctor was kind enough to label the important bits so we didn't get confused. 

Grrrrrrrrrr!

I keep on meaning to put up a post from Steve Bidulphs book, Manhood - but keep leaving the stupid thing at home. Maybe next week. But yesterday Hayley got given a whole bundle of maturnity clothes from a few ladies at church who have recently had a bunch of kids themselves. Fortunately there was a good ratio of wearable things vs hell no! But the diamond in the rough was undoubtably the long, figure hugging lepord skin number. I don't know how I ever missed it, of course that's what ever pregnant women would feel sexy in! I say we all need a bit of help to bring out the wild cat in all of us. Scott

Contact

So far we know he is there - we've seen the scans and watch the bump grow - but up until last night it was quiet on the home front. Then (as I was shooting the Borg the computer) Hayley gave a shout. And last night, we had our first kick.

Got to be honest, it was pretty subtle (for me that is, I'm sure it felt pretty real for Hayley) but definately undeniable. We have contact. I guess now contact grows until Hayley wishes it was back to the old days when her stomach was her own, but as for now we are pretty excited.


If you haven't found something strange during the day, it hasn't been much of a day
John Archibald Wheeler

This is Jesse, Craig and Kerrys little guy. Could be our son's friend one day so I figured an introduction now couldn't go astray. And besdies, isn't that the best baby smile of all time? 

Now we're cooking! This is about 5 months along, and going strong . . .
Posted by Hello

I wanted to get a photo on to break the 'lack of photo jinx'. Problem is, haven't scanned them in yet.So here is the worst case senario for fatherhood.
Posted by Hello

The Battle of the Bears

We were out and about on the town the other day doing a bit of baby cot shopping. I use the word 'we' fairly loosley as Hayley and I picked it, but Hayley's mom paid for it. Thanks mom! But it was on this trip that I discovered the battle of the bears. It goes something like this: In the red corner we have Winnie the Pooh. The good natured, gluttonous bear who sees everything in a forrest Gump kind of way. He has lots of friends, adventures and a story line to his life. He is the defending champion. In the blue corner we have Paddington Bear. He is shy, retiring and (as I can remember my story books) spends most of his time in transit. The narrative of his life is interrupted by the fact he is often lost. He is not quite as one dimensional as the Pooh, being a complex character, internalising his pain in a everyman's meloncholic daze. He knows more than he lets on. Five seconds in the baby shops around here will tell you who is the smackdown champion. But, in the good tradition of challenging the conventinal wisdom, I want to put in a vote of confidence in the underdog/bear. He is a bear wearing boots, a bear with a suitcase, a bear on the move. There's also the bounus that his paddington coat actually covers his bare bits, whereas the Pooh flaunts all for the word to see. What sort of message is this sending to the kiddies?

So I've got my reserachers out looking for a bit more Paddignton merchandise to address the imbalance. Why go the cliche story book version, when you can get the equally addorable but gritty "life is pain princess!"* reality of the bears life?

(* - The Princess Bride)

Genesis Ch 5

This is just a reflection from a bit of bible reading I was getting into this morning. Very rough thoughts, but for what it's worth . . . Genesis Ch 5 is one of the 'read over quickly' passages in the Bible, which is probably a bit of a shame. It's a record of the patriarchs before flood, just as Ch 10 is a record of them after the flood. What grabbed my attention is verses 1-2. "When God created man, he made them in the likeness of God. He created them male and female and blessed them. And when they were created He called them 'man'. " We are reminded of chapters 1 and 2 where God creates man in likeness and by naming. 'Image' and 'likeness' describe the fact that Adam and Eve were God's deputies to rule His world. By naming them God puts His stamp of authority over them (just like when Adam names the animals and then names Eve). So there is the recognition of responciblity and freedom within the boundry that this mandate for ruling God's world comes under God's authority. Genesis Ch 5 re-establishes this pattern in the first few verses and then lets it apply 8 times for the next 8 generations. Just as God made Adam in his image and named him, so the sons of the patriarchs are made in their image and are named by them. It culminates with Noah, who breaks the pattern of repetition by having his name explained fully. Is he the serpent crusher we have been hoping for since Ch 3:15? No, but he will be a comforter. Anyway, this got me thinking. As fathers had their sons, there is the recognition of responcbility and freedom for them to rule within the assumption that this comes under the authority of the father, who named them. The pattern that God establishes with His children is probably not a bad pattern for us to follow as we seek to raise ours.

Show me the money!

The other day a pregnanct mag crossed my desk and I found a terribly titled page called, 'Men Behaving Dadly'. Dad's write in and share there experiences and (here's the cool part) win pretty awesome prizes. I'm not a big fan of the mag (maybe more on that later) and while I'm only a Dad to be, I grabbed my last blog, changed it a fair bit of it and emailed off. It's a bit cheesy but I figured I needed to match the mags intended readership. No news yet, but should I get in . . . prizes galore!

Here it is


My calves are stiff, I’ve got a blister the size of my TV remote and my feet are killing me. Translation – I’m a finisher of the Two Oceans Marathon, the most beautiful marathon in the world (or so they say). I’m also a dad to be and will graduate to full dad status on the 27th of August. One question that has been consuming my thoughts of late is, What does a dad to be need to make himself a successful dad in action? Well, I think running the Two Oceans might have given me a small glimpse into the answer. But you need to know, I only ran the half. To experience the most beautiful marathon in the world you have to run the ultra version, all 56Km of it – a feat I’m toying with for next year. You see, last year as I stood bleary eyed and watched everyone run by it dawned on me that this is the race for all sorts. Those who glide, those who shuffle, those with million dollar shoes, those sporting takkies that are also loved by the dog. The surging wave of humanity not only said to me, you can do it, but they threw down the gauntlet, you must do it! So I did. With the 21km behind me I found myself in the Red Cross physio tent face down on a mat with a lady rubbing baby oil into my calves. I didn’t fight it; I just went with the flow. As I lay there reflecting I realized I was sore but happy and was already starting to forget the pain and thinking how much fun it will be to do it next year. But you may be asking the question, “What has this got to do with becoming a dad?”Good question.

Am I going to make some reflection about how you can do anything you put your mind to, a lesson for my son to be? No. I hate that sort of talk because there are lots of things in life I couldn’t do no matter how determined I was. I’m man enough to admit flat out that somethings are just out of my league. (Sadly they seem to include sewing on a button and not loosing my keys at least twice a week). Will I draw the analogy between a marathon and the race of life? No. Too predictable, it’s been done. (And besides, I only ran the half, so what does that mean?!) So what’s my point? Simply this.

I am growing to love running. I love pounding the pavements and trail running in the mountains. And should Tubman Jnr ever read this, I want him to know that this is something his dad loved to do. And if, by the time he is able to read this, I’m not running any more, I want him to ask me to show him my medals and tell him some stories. And most important of all, ask me why I’m not doing it any more.

All the books say it’s so; the best thing you can do for you kids is to be a healthy, well adjusted ‘normal’ person yourself. Certainly not an excuse to indulge in self centredness but definitely a wake up call that you will only be a good as father as you are a man. Now I for one find that a scary thought! Can I get away with making reckless claims that I may well be South Africa’s new running sensation? Must I brush and floss, always replace the toilet roll and be sure to be a generous tipper? Perhaps, although I can’t help but think there is a bit more too it than that.
Could I become known as the sort or man (and therefore father) who loves running like a maniac against the clock, but can also be patient and reflective? Could I be the type of man (and therefore father) who doesn’t just say in a pious sing song, ‘healthy body, healthy mind’ but actually pulls it off? Could I be the kind of man (and therefore father) whose word (“I’m doing the 56km next year!”) is his bond? I’d like to think so.

And while I’ve got another 12 months to train for Two Oceans, but only four months to get ready for fatherhood, I’m hoping that my son and I can work on this one together. I’ll be the man I should be for him and in return he might just pick up a few things along the way. I guess before he ends up a mature, responcible and deliciously witty member of society, I’m going to have to embark on a whole new type of marathon. You’ll see me, I’ll be the one running and with the pram with a glimmer of hope in my eye.