Battery low, lost in the jungle

A drunk, lays dead on his kitchen floor for a week, before a kindly old lady, that lives a floor below him, finds his old dog roaming the staircase and calls the police. This is not uncommon these days but happened in our Moscow block of flats, on the top floor above us (see best posts "a soap opera"). As you may have read, the mans mother, fell from the balcony a few months ago, to become strawberry jam and he continued is alcohol fueled, lonely existence with just an old, farting dog for company. His next door neighbors, when asked by us, said "we did not know him", with a shrug of their shoulders and with total indifference, shut the door as if this man had never existed. A week later, his life is dumped in a skip, life time photos, an old guitar, chairs, pictures and clothes, lay piled high as silent witnesses to a human life. His long suffering family, repaint, and repair it. They rent it out to idiot expatriates, for thousands of euro a month. Human nature and human existence is vastly complex, vastly diverse, vastly ugly and at times, tremendously beautiful.

Occasionally, I like to test human nature and to pinch myself that good still exists among us. I can say, without doubt, that it does exist if you look for it. Stories link to stories, in an endless chapter of existence and can be found on these pages, if you dig deep and step back. Here is one of happiness, that links to the previous post.

Yesterday, kid and I were lost in Moscow. We had returned to the clinic to see painted finger nails, (the doctor and alleged "assistant surgeon") to check his willy healing progress. We arranged to see her at six. We told her on the phone, that we would not pay and that we already given them vast sums of money for his operation and would not pay a ruble more for a checkup visits. To our surprise, she accepted this and let us see her. We arrived early at the clinic at five thirty. Doctor, painted finger nails, was glued to her white iPhone. She saw us but kept us waiting till the agreed, appointment time. She stood at the reception, in her white doctors coat, high heels and glossy red lips, chatting and laughing, while we waited, with no intention of seeing a moment early. We she did see us, she had the look of a woman who was casually looking at handbags in a designer shop and despite her doctors coat, looked indifferent and rather bored. After I had questioned her, it seemed all was fine with willy. Russian doctors are not used to being questioned, even in a private clinic. We said goodbye, promised to never to go back to the AMC (American Medical Center) and got in the car to head home.

This time, we were flying home solo, without the help of a WNA (wife navigation assistance). I only had my iPhone, that does not have a speaking map, in the form of Google Maps. I typed in the directions home and with the phone balanced on a knee, we joined the buffalo herd heading home, feeling very nervous of where it was sending us. From behind me, my kid kept saying "daddy whats that", "daddy can I have a sweet", "daddy want to get out" while we crawled along, with the herd, as predators of fear, stalked my mind. Map, without speaking, indicated to me, via a long blue line on the screen, to turn right, so I turned right, we were herded into a steam of cars, with no way of escaping. We were sent, with the iron herd, over the river, to join a vast road, heading god knows where? After an hour, my phone messaged me with those terrifying, two words, that no idiot, lost in a vast concrete, foreign city wants to read "battery low". Map and the chance to call my wife to say, "we may never see you again" were fading fast, as my phones life ,slowly ebbed away. The road offered us multiple signs, with multiple options of getting lost, sending us further into the concrete jungle. From the back of the car, my kid said "daddy I feel sick". The second words, that no idiot, lost in a vast concrete, foreign city wants to know. I handed him an old plastic bag, that I found tucked in the drivers door and told him to puke into that, "no daddy", "stop, get out". I could feel panic rising up from my stomach. Then it came, warm vomit, mixed with carrots, flew in the air behind me, sending bits of carrot, down the back of my shirt. My kid began to cry while his trousers and the car floor, were covered in the soup from lunch time. Traffic fumes, dust and vomit, filled the air of our small car, as we headed further into lost land.

In desperation, I parked the car, jumped out and asked a man in the street, the way, I knew he would speak English, as after years of living abroad, you develop a sixth sense of knowing when a person will speak English. Typically, he told me he was lost as well. I grabbed another man walking by and asked him the way, with a shaking hand, I held out my iPhone map, to within an inch of his face and said, as best I could, without crying "center please, which way?". He told me to go back the way I had come. I ran back to the car, got in and like a madman on the run from the cops, drove backwards up the one way road, at high speed, swerving the on coming traffic, to rejoin the road I had just stupidly left. Kid gently sobbed in the back, resigned to his fate, at the hands of an idiot father lost in Moscow. 

We continued on for a while, boxed in by other metal wildebeest and I still had no idea where we were going, although the map showed me where we were located. I began to doubt its accuracy and I began to think it was playing a cruel joke on me, a technical conspiracy could be at play. After a while (ninety minutes later), since we left to go home, we were stuck in the central lane of a vast six lane road. I stopped, put on the flashing, car hazard lights and to the sound of a million angry car horns, jumped out the car and tapped on the window, of the car in front. A pretty, young girl opened her electric window, looked at me in disbelief and smelling the vomit, smiled at me nervously. She spoke English and after I had blurted out my story, she said "follow me". Another two words, that an idiot, lost in a vast concrete, foreign city, really does want to hear. I stuck to her car ass, like a Beagle dog chasing a rabbit and followed her all the way back to the main road that goes into Moscow. Familiar, Moscow buildings passed us by like old friends and I knew where we were. I waved her goodbye, wanting to give her a kiss and headed back to familiar ground and back to our Moscow flat, with a useless phone and puke covered, sobbing child. 

The moral of this story? Don't buy a phone that does not have Google Maps, don't get lost in Moscow, don't give your kid soup, if he suffers from car sickness, and good human nature really does still exist. If you find it, celebrate it, share it and be very happy. Where there is indifference there is always humanity. Charge your battery on stories of humanity and feel alive again.

Related stories: Do you speak English?, A soap opera, Dad excommunicated, Brit Milah

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Replace the Me with the Us

When living away from your home country, you get to see a different culture. Every country has its own culture. People debate and argue what is culture but I see it as habits and customs, that are special to a place and nothing more complex than that.

Human nature is universal and has a light good side and a dark evil side. One thing I have come to realize now I am in the later years of my life, is that basically we all shit, fuck, sleep, walk the dog, play football, hate, love, fart, cry, paint the house and kill each other the world over. Take a man from China, Italy, England, America, Russia or any other country or a woman and they will all have the same needs, hates, loves and desires, good and bad. The world is changing and has changed in my life time. I came to think about this topic, while doing sit-ups yesterday in a Moscow park, as it was my first break from childcare duties for over a week. Human nature and culture are the main topics today.

What motivates us all now, is money and survival. Some say it has always been like this but I argue motivation has changed. We all now are spoon fed advertising via the mass media and the Internet. We all want the latest iPhone, iSpoon, iBanana, TV, shoes etc. In Russia, labels are popular and Russians have the belief, that if something costs a lot it must be very good. This is a false belief, because something can cost a lot but not be good. In my opinion, there is no such thing as quality only good luck. A label here, is a converted thing to own and has replaced the socialism and church. There was a time when decency and morals were the main control on human behavior and the fear of eternal damnation, this has now been replaced by good parenting and by good education, in a lottery of human experience, depending on where you live, on your family, income and on your situation. Religion, (apart form extreme Islam), has sadly died, a spectacular and tragic death. People no longer really go to church of any religion and the new god is the self, the "me". Despite this black picture of the world, I have met and seen many very decent people since moving away from London England. Human kindness in its simplest from, like a neighbor bringing you some fresh home made jam, apples or pickled cucumbers from their Dacha, is worth more than any iPod, iPad, iPhone or gold. I came to realized this, as I sat in my Moscow kitchen, typing this blog post on my new iPad, eating her home made jam, feeling a consumerist traitor and longing for a simpler, less complicated life, far away from here.

I have noticed, since travelling around the world and living in just two different countries, people can surprise you with their kindness. This can even happen in a big city like Moscow from friends to total strangers in the street. For all the negatives of Moscow or anywhere else, you can find gems of experience if you look under the carpet. The same could be said for any large city anywhere in the world. Human nature and cultural differences are fascinating subjects that have no real conclusion.

In my opinion, money is the root of all evil and we would all be better of without it but course we would all starve. Russia is corrupt and has a lot of very bad people running the country and mixing among the population, men pass you in the street that have murdered and would murder again, if required to do so. These people live next door to us, in our street and in our cities. They are evil shadows, that cannot be avoided and pass us by unnoticed, unless you look for them as I do.  In Moscow, like in any city, there is an aggression that bubbles under the surface, like a hot spring under a rock. You can accept this or adapt to it. Living in Moscow, you have to adapt to it and in some ways keep your eyes closed to these hard realities. Russia has a different culture to my own. I can honestly say Russia is an alien culture and although we all shit, fuck, eat and sleep, we are very different culturally. I celebrate culture and its difference. Although I may not always like the culture in Moscow (I say Moscow, as I have not lived anywhere else in Russia) and at times it will offend me and shock me, I enjoy it and accept it for what it is, life is an experience that enriches us spiritually. I have come to realize, that if you take away the rat race and mass consumerism, the sun will shine and human beings can be beautiful. The world must change now and it's up to our leaders to lead us to this change. Laws, punishment, penalty and reward are the only tools of mass control and no one should be above these things. The world really is going a little bit nuts now, the "Me" must be replaced by the "Us".

When a crazy, orange haired  joker, high on drugs, shot all those people, we could once say "only in America" but not anymore, these crazy things can happen anywhere now. Is all human nature bad and evil? No its not all bad, good human nature is becoming increasingly hard to find, in an ever changing world but when we do find it, we must celebrate it, share it and love it. Good human nature is fragile and must be protected. I can write this stuff as I have a blog. On the most part, I stick to the agreed agenda and don't rant too much but the recent shootings in America this week touched a nerve and I had to say my part on the World Wide Web to you dear reader.

One thing, regular readers may have noticed, is that I am never stuck for things to say on this blog, in an ocean of crap and blogs, floating out  in cyberspace. I can launch my tiny ship into cyberspace and I can give my opinion. It is my right and I am very lucky to be able to do so, if you don't like it, that's your choice pilgrim, please forgive my moral speech. Rant over, back to nappies and baby food.

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Brit milah

We recently had the pleasure of visiting and parting with a large sum of money, when we went to a private clinic called the American Medical Center (AMC) here in Moscow.

We went there on a recommendation, from a well meaning expatriate mother, as our kid needed a circumcision operation (brit milah). As this mother rightly told us, a recommended doctor or surgeon, is far safer and better, than a recommended clinic. This operation was required for medical reasons, rather than for any religious reason and so it had to be urgently done. It is best to do this operation while a child is still young and we were advised to do it by a Urologist at the Russian clinic, where we usually go (see best posts). This clinic is cheap (for Moscow), clean and modern but they cannot do this operation and they can't cope with anything more complex than the standard sick complaints that we all suffer from. We had the choice of going to the AMC or to the EMC (European Medical Center). We were recommend a Russian guy, that can do these operations and who visits the AMC as a freelance willy man. We could have gone cash only, at some unknown place but a child's willy, is a valuable thing, not to let lose on an unknown butcher. It's better sort this kind of thing out now, rather than have embarrassing moments, with a first girlfriend, in the back of a car, at some future date.

As a public service, I wish to share the experience with you, in case you are thinking of using a private clinic here in Moscow, for yourself or for your children. We could have gone to the EMC, but I we had heard very negatives experiences about this private medical center, so opted to try the AMC. This clinic is not far from the metro station "Prospect Mira". I don't know why it's called the American Medical Center? I could not see, or surprisingly hear any Americans. The same can be said for the Europe Medical Center, does it contain any actual Europeans?. I suppose, these names, may sound more attractive to the foreigner or at least that's what the Russians think. The word "European" or "American" in their minds, carries a standard of quality, even if they cannot provide it as it should be provided, as I will explain below.

We went with my kid, to the American Medical Center this week. When we arrived, there were three bored but pretty looking Russian girls sitting behind the reception desk. One spoke good English and asked me, to fill in a form. Once I had done this, we went into the children's section and waited on chairs, next to a plastic kids play house to be seen by our willy man. We waited and waited, past our agreed time to be seen. After an hour of waiting, our recommended man ("Professor") came in. He was not as I expected, he was not wearing a white coat and looked as if he had just driven from his dacha. He looked in his early sixties and wore thick glasses, we were told he was a "professor" although this means absolutely nothing in Russia, as anything, from a driving license to a professional title, can easily be paid for. He did not speak English or wear rubber gloves. I explained to him, that my kid had been recommended to have a circumcision operation and showed him the doctors report from the other Russian clinic. We got a reception girl to translate our conversation. After five minutes, the guy, said he could do it next week, got up and was going to leave, I asked him "aren't you going to look at my boy" he looked annoyed and without rubber gloves, examined my boys willy, said nothing and left the room. 

I should have run for the hills, from this clinic but the taxi meter had already been running and our visit that day, would cost us 160 euro (without any tests), so leaving was not a possible option. We where then told to see a doctor who was a pediatrician and I could see my credit card was going to be raped by the AMC. Surprise, surprise, the pediatrician, told us our kid would need a set of testes, including an HIV test. I told her, that he had never had sex, so why the HIV test? She told me its was necessary, along with an X-ray, cardiogram, urine and blood tests.  I tried to tell her, that I did not want lots of blood tests but realized I would have no choice other than to have them done, as testing is how they pump up their profits funded by desperate, idiot foreigners like me. A large nurse, came to take my kids blood and she could not get the needle into his arm, she looked annoyed and he screamed as she stuck the needle in his little arm. After we had had all the tests done, it was 5.30 pm and we could go home. We had been at the clinic since 2.30pm. Before I left, I asked for the bill (invoice) they gave it to me and I could not control my laughter, they looked at me as if I had just escaped form a Moscow mad house, it came to 850 euro without any operation, I handed over my card and the money was taken. We were told, someone would call us the next week, to tell us the time and day for the operation. My credit card was already down by 850 euro but more pain was to come, for my boy and for my credit card.

The next week, my phone rang and it was the American Medical Center. A girl spoke to me in bad English, to tell me that the operation would be on Wednesday at "about 3pm" as the professor was going on holiday. I asked if he could eat or drink before the operation? She told me, that my kid could not eat for six hours before the operation, so It was lucky I asked. I asked if he could have the operation early in the morning, as he would be starving, without any food till the afternoon, she told me no. She did not tell me, if I should bring anything or what the operation would involve. Again, alarm bells rang but it was too late to cancel the operation as we had so far paid out 850 euro.

Wednesday came and we arrived at the AMC clinic. A bored reception girl, asked us to wait in the kids area. We waited and at 3.30 pm, a nurse came down and showed us up to the room. The room was modern and looked good, It contained three beds, a TV, a shower room and a few kids toys, the nurse gave us a blue gown, that was for a teenager, so my kid was floating in it, I asked for a smaller one, she blankly said no and left the room. We put him into his huge gown and put him into the bed and waited for our man and his knife. Professor, showed up, in the same clothes he had been in the last time we met and was still not wearing any white doctors gown, he looked like a hospital janitor and maybe he was?  I began to feel very nervous. The nurse took our kids blood pressure and listened to his heart. Then another person arrived, this time a woman, actually wearing a white doctors gown, long painted finger nails and high heels, she did not introduce herself to us but just told us that it would be soon and left the room with an iPhone stuck to her ear. I could hear her high heels clicking on the corridor floor as she walked away. No none sat down with us, smiled or talked to us about the operation, we were just another faceless number. Luckily, I had read up about it, on the all knowing, all seeing "World Wide Web", so I knew the procedure but some friendly bedside manner from them, would have been welcome, for two, new scared parents, about to let a stranger, use a knife on our most precious child. We asked to see the anesthetist and after a while, he came to us, we were asked to fill in three sets of forms, all in Russian and he asked if our kid had any allergies? We were told he would be given gas to sleep. The anesthetist, took his get of jail free card and left the room without a word.

I asked the nurse if I could go into the operating room with my kid, she looked confused and disappeared to find out. We waited. At 4 pm, the nurse told us to follow her and I carried my kid to the lift and we went down to the operating room area. Another nurse took him and I was asked to dress in paper trousers, a plastic hat, mask and gloves. I went into the operating room, my son was lying on the table wearing his gown and plastic hat. He was very afraid. The operating room was very modern and I felt a lot less nervous. I held his hand and the anesthetist gave him the gas, he was asleep, within two minutes and I was asked to leave. I went back to the room and waited for an eternity. I read on the Internet that circumcision is an easy operation, that takes only about fifteen to twenty minutes to do. After 45 minutes they wheeled our boy, back to the room, he was awake and screaming on the table. He was in a lot of pain. This went screaming went on for about forty minutes and I held him as he cried. I asked the nurse for pain killer and something to help him relax and one for me, she did not understand my wit and left the room. We waited and waited for another forty minutes or so, then the anesthetist arrived and the nurse gave him an injection, it took 30 minutes to take effect and after that my boy was spaced out, drugged and silent with a very red bleeding willy.

7 pm came and food arrived. It looked good and was good, although it was served cold. The tray had soup, bread rolls, orange juice, salmon with mashed potato and a yogurt. We fed our kid the soup, which he then promptly vomited up. So I ate his food and cleaned his bed. Once this was done, we then spent an hour trying get them to them to stamp our insurance forms. It turned out, that this clinic is used to being paid directly, by blind, foolish insurance companies and are not used to offering evidence of medical treatment directly to a patient. Once this was done and we had our forms stamped to claim back some of the money, I carried my boy wrapped in a towel, back to the car and we all drove home, totally exhausted.

Would I recommend this clinic? In my opinion, it is clean, modern and comfortable, however what lets it down so badly, is the total lack of customer care, bedside charm ("bedside manner") and friendliness. Bedside charm and a human approach to people, who are sick or who need an operation, are as important as the medical treatment. I have noticed this to be a theme in Russia. This clinic is not cheap and you would think, they would train the staff to behave in a better way towards its high paying customers, their mission statement on the wall of the clinic, is creative marketing. You are just a number another payment to them. We had to ask questions and when we did, they looked annoyed, I had to clear up my sons vomit and the nurse did not even take away the dirty sheet from his bed. This clinic is probably very capable of performing any of its advertised services, however I would not go back, as it lacks a human approach. This is a common problem in Moscow, from healthcare, hotels to eating out. A human approach, is vital where ever you live. The professor (hospital janitor) did the job, I don't know if he did it well, as it's too early to say but I feel pleased and fortunate to have found him via a kind recommendation. As for overall verdict for the American Medical Center, we were not impressed at all by the service and lack of professionalism but the clinic has all the bells and whistles that you would expect from a private clinic.

The whole procedure came to a staggering 2,350 euro (2,878 USD). The operation took just 45 minutes and there was no overnight stay. That's an expensive penis, in an expensive city, where people are happy to empty your wallet or credit card but don't offer a smile or a care for your well being. If you can avoid having an operation here in Moscow and if it is not urgent, do it back home. I am sure you would receive a more human, approach at state hospital back in your own country. 

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Surviving the small people

Beyond the limits

When you are a stay at home dad and without two breasts, you are totally reliant on bottles milk. Unfortunately for us, inventors have not yet created a self filling bottle that adds the milk powder and the water or strap on milk breasts. When you have two kids, one who is under five and a small baby, your nerves and stamina will be pushed to warp factor eight, your sanity will be pushed to the fringes of lunacy and your tiredness will reach epic levels. 

Many expatriate parents, most of them mothers, have nannies here in Moscow. This is for good reason. Although these women have breasts and are not usually slaves to the bottle, (maybe only a Vodka bottle) they are doing the right thing. As much as I despise some of these  stereotypical women, I now know, having a nanny is worth more than all the gold in the world. A good nanny (although I prefer the term "childminders") are hard to find but they are a valuable tool for baby care and for child survival.

If you are thinking of becoming a father, moving abroad and becoming a stay at home dad and having more than one child, think long and hard, before you send the little diver, into deep water without his wetsuit on. Your life will not be the same again. If you are under thirty, fit and have lots of cash in the bank it will be easier. If you are married to a woman who is an heiress, minted and loaded, it will be easier, if you can afford a team of nannies, it will be easier. If you are none of these things, buckle up for the ride of your life. The journey is just beginning. Making a child is a huge step and requires total commitment. 

An average day

Imagine, if you will. Baby is rolling around on the carpet, on the living room floor and has got tangled up in the rug and is trapped between the sofa and the coffee table, he is screaming, kid number one, (the toddler), is demanding more juice and to change TV channel, you have not eaten, it's hot and you are starving and sweating. You run into the kitchen, to get more apple juice for number one kid and you change the TV channel to Sponge bob, you unwrap baby from his carpet prison and smell trouble coming from his rear end. Imagine raw sewage, mixed up with rotting carrot with a colour of a bright radioactive orange. That would describe baby poo once they have made the "change". When I say change, I don't mean to a new bank or to a new religion, I mean the switch to solid foods from milk only. They are now eating puree baby food and drinking less powdered milk. You rush into the bathroom, hitting your big toe on the set of drawers, that sits in the corridor between your living room and the bathroom. You pop baby down onto the baby changing table, that takes up most of the floor space in your tiny Moscow bathroom. He looks up smiling at the tinted mirrors on the bathroom ceiling and for once, you thank the flat owner for their god awful taste in decor, as the mirror calms the baby down while you change his nappy or "diaper" if you cannot speak proper English. You take off the nappy and pee hits you in the eye with the force of a water pistol. Baby looks up at you smiling. You blindly wipe the pee from your face, with your shirt sleeve, grab a wet wipe and scoop up the orange, smelly poo. From the living room, you can hear kid number one, demanding another teddy bear cake. You ignore his cries for waiter service and continue with your nappy mission. Once you have cleaned up the poo, you bag it and bin it and wash your hands. You put baby in a clean nappy, baby now wants more milk. You rush into the kitchen, leaving baby in the bathroom and prepare a new baby bottle, adding 150 ml of water and five blue spoons of baby powder, baby milk smells like cabbage. You go back into the living room, sit down but forget baby is in the bathroom, you get up and get him from the bathroom and feed him. In the panic, you forgot to get kid number one a teddy bear cake. You get up again, leaving baby balanced on the sofa, go back in to the kitchen, get his teddy bear cake go back, pick baby up and continue feed him his bottle. You are sweating, hungry and have not eaten since lunch time. Once the kids are in bed, at about nine, you can eat, if you are lucky, this time could be ten or later. Sounds like fun doesn't it. Be afraid, be very afraid. If you can juggle, it will be easy.

It will get easier

Despite this sounding like a living hell which it often is, it is worth it. In my opinion, you have to suffer now but it will get easier later, or so I tell myself each day, since becoming a stay at home dad in Moscow. Being a father is a huge responsibility not to be taken lightly. If you are the main earner and work full time, you will provide the money, while your wife spends it and while her mother, Swedish au-pair, childminder or school, looks after your kids or kids. If you are a SAHD (stay at home dad), you will be hands on and you will be responsible for your child's safety, happiness and health, from when they wake up to when they eventually fall asleep at night. It's hard work and harder than working in an office from nine to five. Being a father, is a privilege and a blessing. In my opinion, as fathers, we must do our best for our kids, we must be firm but loving, we must be a teacher by example and a doctor, clown, life coach and magician. We must be a Swiss army knife of skill, ready to make a fire from twigs or a shelter from damp leaves. We must be able to adapt to every situation that the kids demand. On the other hand, on a thinking level, I worry about what the future holds for my kids, as we live in a screwed up world with many screwed up people. I worry how they will survive, prosper and cope with this mad world of ours. I suppose every normal father has these worries but we can only try our best and enjoy our time as a father, we only get one shot to get it right. Worrying, really solves nothing.

It's worth it

When you become a father or mother, your world changes. I now know all the cartoons, including their theme songs as provided by our Moscow TV package. I have seen all the episodes in Sponge Bob, at least ten times and I know what will happen in each episode, I am a fan. I know and now like, Dora the explorer, I know Peppa Pig, I know every climbing frame and swing in the playgrounds where I live. I know what are good baby pushchairs (stroller/buggies) and what are bad ones, I know good nappies and bad nappies, I know baby speak and childcare jargon. 

I am no certainly expert but I have learned by trial and error and I still get it very wrong. I have become a father and I'm exhausted but proud of it. Do I regret it? Not at all. Men, roll up your sleeves and try it. Send the little man in and make a new life.

Seventeen very basic dad skills

1) If you have two kids and are at the playground, at all times keep one eye on baby and one eye on kid number one. At the playground, don't be distracted by a MILF or NILF (nannies, ILF), look away and be focused on your kids.
2) At the restaurant, be ready to eat your food last or cold and please keep calm. Be ready to gain kilograms, pounds and stone. You are over eating for a good cause. See point 8.
3) If out with the pushchair (stroller/buggy) you have the right of way, anyone who gets in your way, smash them in the ankles, it's your road.
4) Use bribery to get your kid to do as you ask and lie if necessary to get instant cooperation. You can repair this mental damage, when he/she is a teenager.
5) At the kindergarten or school, be ready to play school politics and be ready for parent bitching, it goes with the package and can't be avoided.
6) If you have a small baby, be adaptable at changing a nappy (diaper) on a park bench or on a wet public toilet (washroom/bathroom) floor.
7) Have a good sense of humor and a slight madness.
8) When taking a flight, bus or train with your kid or kids, have an understanding wife as you will need to take your Valium when you hand over the controls over to her.
9) Have a good supply of DVDs, paper and crayons.
10) Absolutely, never run out of nappies (diapers).
11) Be physically fit and exercise, you will to be fit for carrying a pushchair up and down stairs and for carrying a small child in your arms, for up to 5 km on any day, in any weather, at any time.
12) Always carry a rain cover for your pushchair and have a cyclical pump at home to pump up the pushchair wheels..
13) Be fast at changing nappies and be able to do it with one hand, without looking.
14) Forget all freedom and alone time.
15) Find joy in the simplest of things such sitting on the toilet taking a long undisturbed dump, sexual intercourse, sleeping or watching a television show.
16) Recycle any clothes from the first boy to the second kid, even if number two kid is a girl. You can repair this mental damage, when she is a teenager.
17) Do none of the above and leave it all to your wife, nannie, au-pair or mother-in-law.

Related stories: Best Posts, The next game level

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