DADDY UNCOOL: The dizzying highs and exhausting lows of parenting two little girls.


2. Crawling.

In the past week, a day Mummy Cool and I have dreaded for eleven months finally arrived. Our baby girl, Red, began crawling. I know what you’re thinking, “You miserable sod! This is a milestone! I hope she does a massive crap in her nappy now and you have to sort it out!”, but hear me out. Of course we’re pleased, and it’s an amazing sight, but any parents out there will surely agree with me that this is the start of a rather exhausting stage in parenting.

Our eldest, Blondie, didn’t really crawl much. Maybe it was an early sign of her cautious nature, or, if we’re being spiritual, further proof that she has always seemed “an old soul”, but in the end, she just couldn’t be arsed and skipped it altogether. In her first few months, any attempt at “tummy time” resulted in the tragi-comic sight of a baby flopping about like a fish out of water, so we should have known it was a dead loss. Red, however, is very different to her sister in this sense. Everything is new to her, and she’s ridiculously eager to know more. She’s spent a few months shuffling, rolling and pushing her little fat legs around – any method she can think of to get herself to such precious items as remote controls, toy sheep and, well, ANYTHING.

It’s hard enough having to keep a baby safe, but at least before they crawl you can smugly pick them up and remind them who is (supposed to be) boss. But once they’re crawling, you have to have eyes in the back of your head, and a back that can withstand being constantly hunched over as you chase your little ones. Our house is now a total assault on the senses, as all the while Red is getting into scrapes, Blondie is wanting to chat. Blondie may have not been bothered about mobility, back in the day, but that’s because all the while she seemed to be reading a dictionary and learning the art of conversation in a way that astounds us at times. I can’t see Blondie ever going abseiling, but she can grasp language better than some adults I know (including me, at times.) Bedtime doesn’t always bring respite, if Blondie isn’t sleep-chatting over her monitor, Red’s crawling in her sleep. We often hear a cry in the night and find she’s somehow turned 180 degrees and is lying face down like an alcoholic after a good/bad night out (delete as appropriate), with her helpless legs caught in the bars.

In fact, monitoring a crawling baby is a bit like stopping a drunk from being lairy and starting fights at times. “Leave it Red, that plug socket’s not worth it!” Imagine being almost drunk on the newness of EVERYTHING around you though, without the need of mind-altering substances. It must be brilliant. No wonder she’s always laughing and smiling.

So maybe I’m a bit jealous. And maybe there’s a part of me that is dreading this phase because it means our youngest is now growing up, a baby no longer.


DADDY UNCOOL: Parent Blog has been written by a local East Riding dad, check him out on Twitter @Daddyuncoolblog and daddyuncool on Facebook