Fatherhood

The Sole Purpose of Your Feet is Toe-tal Fun

Kevin Johnston2 Comments

My feet are important to me.  We are a team.  On a daily basis they allow me to play “Chase Me” with my son and wife, run to the kitchen to grab a bag of crisps and do all the other important things a busy dad/teacher/outdoor type needs to do.  So it’s been pretty frustrating during this summer holiday that my feet have decided they need a rest and so have prevented me getting up into the hills and mountains, which is where I’d be found most summer holidays.  That exasperation has probably been pretty noticable to my wife, although she has made me smile and laugh and helped me mostly forget the annoyance of being laid up on the couch while my feet enjoy their holiday.

However, the summer has still given me opportunities to explore and spend time with Mrs Johnston and Young Johnston.  And I remind myself daily about how lucky I am to have my family and be able to do the things we do, so much of it outdoors.  For instance…

Young Johnston and I went off to find the Bunnet Stane.  And as well as admiring this rocky spectacle, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten as many hula hoops in one day before.

We’ve been to the capital to measure Young Johnston’s height.  He is now officially taller than the Scott Monument.

We’ve been teaching Young Johnston to drive cars and boats.

We’ve been looking for animals, at Blair Drummond Safari Park and closer to home.

And we spent an amazing week on Skye with Paul, Sas and Finn.

 

     

There are still three weeks of the holidays to go and loads more adventures to be had.  The photo above, Blaven, was the view from our cottage which was one of the reasons for taking the cottage in the first place.  Did I miss not getting to climb its slopes?  Yes, very much so.  But our week on Skye was one of the best wee holidays we’ve been on as a family and it reminds me how lucky I am to have what I have. After a week of the best the island had to offer, we were all…… dead on our feet.

Morning Dad

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Last night I felt my boy kick me through Kirsty’s belly.  He’s not quite ready to say “Morning Dad” yet but in a few short weeks he’ll arrive and we’ll both get to meet him for the first time and find out if his lungs are as powerful as his foot.

Seven months of pregnancy have rushed by like an avalanche of thoughts, fears and plans.  At 37 I’m a little older than the average new dad but I feel ready for this major step, something I certainly wouldn’t have said a couple of years back.  My thought processes have been fairly steadfast.  A week of “oh my god” in the beginning and a few “are we actually doing this?” moments since have been bubble wrapped in the excitement and trepidation that has taken over our every day life.  Our first day in Mothercare looking for a buggy was a crash course experience where everyone seemed to know what to do and which overly priced cart we should buy while we listened and learned like eager beavers.  After a few months of speaking to various professional parents (and hope-to-be’s and never-want-to-be’s) I see now how the grand baby plan works.

There isn’t one.  Every baby is different and everyone has an opinion and the only way we’ll know what to do is to try absolutely everything and find out what works for our little atom ball from day one.  We were in Alton Towers last year and I can see that our due date will be a little bit like being on the Oblivion ride.  Right now we’re riding away from the entrance, all excited and nervy, building up to the big overhang (which I did with my eyes closed I seem to recall…..). Once that little boy is here, we are dropped at high speed into a whole new world of challenge and frustration, love and devotion.

As I said, I rode Oblivion with my eyes shut.  In spite of the hugeness of what we are about to face, my eyes are and will be well and truly open.  Because I genuinely can’t wait to say “good morning” to my new born son for the first time.

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