B is for…

Beards, Bottles and Bullshit.

I’ve always loved beards. I finally reached a stage where I can grow a half decent one. My daughter has never known me to have anything but a hairy face. Much to her delight as she swings off it whilst not giving in to sleep. After a misjudgement whilst trimming I’m now beardless and it took my daughter a good half a day to accept that I was definitely her dad.

My life has revolved around bottles for 8 months now. But not the beer filled ones of old, but ones filled with overly sweet baby formula stuff. My mind constantly trying to remember how many we have/need/may need/have lost.

The Internet is a dangerous thing. Filled with bullshit. Especially when it comes to raising children. On the one hand people want us to raise our children as individuals and other offer very prescriptive advice on a variety of subjects. But not all children are the same. Yes it ‘MAY’ have worked for you to put sweetcorn between little Kylie ‘s toes to stop her coughing or to continously boil the kettle to get Jimmy to sleep. Not everything works for every kid.
Parenthood so far has taught me to trust my instincts. As if deep in my memory is the answer to a lot of the questions I see people using search engines for.
I’ll raise my kid. You raise yours.

Cut the bullshit and let me get on with being a beardless, bottle obsessed, brave, best I can be Dad.

Dad. Out

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