A novel way to introduce myself: The Midnight Daddy

Have you ever seen the film, the Breakfast Club? At the end they all realise that society will see them as a jock, a princess, a criminal or a nerd. Well I have just joined Steemit (what a great idea!) and I wanted to introduce myself in a way which picks each of the identities I occupy and to talk a little about these every time. For my first introduction - I want to talk about my most recent (new) identity. That of being a father. As such - this post will be called: 'The Midnight Daddy'.

I would like to hear your comments and especially ways in which I can improve this blog and also the other directions I could take - the Midnight Daddy.

I personally want to write about being a father and experiencing being a father as I feel we don't get enough support with it. And also for the reason that I think reflecting on our experiences as dads - men could beenfit a great deal and become better role models for our children.

Anyway - here goes: Midnight Daddy - part 1

The midnight daddy

A small but distinct rasp rang through the clammy air. My hand was tightly tucked in under my mousey hair, the duvet gently tickling my short beard. I edged into the comfort of the night. A few seconds passed. A cooing whimper followed that grew, ever so gradually, louder.

The night-feed is an institution, a boot camp tougher than anything the great gurus of self development couldn't have even concocted. Walking on coals? Try waking up 3 times at night to feed a 6 month old baby with one eye closed and your eyeglasses misplaced.

Whatever we think our response to sleeplessness will be, my experience is that this is often over optimistic, and more often than not, the lack of sleep turns us into caracatured cynical philosophers who fantasise of sun drenched beaches and passionate love affairs.

The night is a strange time. A quiet repose falls across the earth from time zone to time zone, almost like a cosmic blanket is comforting us from the hubbub of the morning's commuter rush and the quiet din of evening's meandering. More than the absence of light it's the quietness that is the most powerful aspect of the middle of the night.

As the whimper grew louder, the baby's decibel level hits that critical no point of return (to sleep) that a parent knows to well. Musa is my first child, and he likes to be fed at night. He too knows that the function of his calling out is so that the intense desire for food can be sated.

There is a moment when my head falls back on the water-filled pillow - partly due to sheer tiredness, and partly due to the frustration that this is night feed number two, and he second bottle is in the fridge. Downstairs.

This account is aimed at both men who are parents (both current and expectant) as well their partners.

A half-hearted gentle tap on Musa's undulating chest doesn't soothe him, and he is scooped up in a swift yet clumsy fashion whilst shimmying off the bed.

To be continued...!

And this is me: