#monkey housemate

I’ve been focussing a lot on the bod part of having a Dad-Bod, I thought I might look at the Dad side for once. Plus, I don’t really feel qualified to always blog about fitness, mainly because I’ve not had the kinds of results I want just yet. I’ve not mentioned this to a lot of people, it’s usually only been other dad friends, but for the better part of the last 2 years I’ve struggled with feeling like a dad. I always thought there was supposed to be this overwhelming feeling immediately after the birth, or after a short period there’d be this epiphany that my life is changed for the better. That all feels like silly TV nonsense now.

Claire has read and follows quite a few Mummy Blogs and bought me a copy of ‘Dummy’ by Matt Coyne (the guy who started the Man vs Baby Facebook page), it’s very funny and feels incredibly honest. I’m only about a quarter of the way through it so far, so this may change, but I just don’t feel myself identifying with it as much as I thought I would. A lot of his experience I can empathise with, and I went through a lot of it myself, but some of it just feels alien to me. His trouble with sleep is a big part that I just don’t think I ever had a problem with, which after reading one part of his book made me panic a little bit. As is the norm whenever I panic about Dad stuff I messaged my wife something like:

Was I one of those dickheads who says “Kids are easy, they slept through straight away” when actually the jerk who says that is the one who just left it to his partner to do all the work?

Happily, I was told I was not one of those lazy dads and I could carry on reading my book. She might have called me an idiot for asking it, but that’s just how she shows that she cares.

There is one sentiment from his book that did strike one hell of a chord with me. It was very early in the book, talking about when he first got home after the actual birth with his little boy. The feeling that when he did get home it looked like a family home and felt like a family home, but he felt like a cuckoo, a fake or an imposter in someone else’s home. That was the best way I’ve heard/read to describe how I’ve been feeling, it hit the nail on the head and I wish I’d been able to describe it before now.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love my boy so much but it’s never been overwhelming, it’s never felt life changing. The stars have never aligned and I’ve never felt the Earth shift beneath my feet, and the lack of the feeling that is supposed to wash over everyone as soon as they see their baby for the first time (or at least the first time after they’ve been able to sleep in a 48hr period that is labour) is what I struggled with for nearly 2 years.

How many conversations with my wife involved the comment “I just feel like all I am is a nappy changer, a provider of snacks and that guy who puts him to bed”? Honestly, it’s so many that I’m amazed that she hadn’t cracked me over the head with Finn’s Hero Sword and told me to change the damn record because she’s sick of hearing it. She never has, and I love her even more for it. She’s still not watched Rick and Morty so I guess she’s not perfect yet.

This is the sword she made that could do some serious damage

Even with her reassurances and help I’d still doubt, question and worry that something was wrong because what’s wrong with me that I’ve never felt those things that everyone goes on about? There’d never been a cosmic shift in my life, no lightning bright flash of clarity that “Yeah, I feel like a dad now” However, I do know the exact point that I stopped caring about those feelings, and I’d realised that my thinking had changed. I couldn’t say when it changed and if it was even a singular change or just a series of adjustments that lead to it (I’m leaning more towards the latter). And the moment when I realised I was seeing myself as a dad was when I was doing possibly the most mundane thing around the house, hanging clean clothes. Whilst I was doing this it struck me that something was different, something had changed with how I saw myself. It came to me that when I was piling clothes I was thinking: Kohen’s Top Clairey’s Top Daddy’s Top Kohen’s Top Daddy’s Top I still don’t feel any different, physically or emotionally, I don’t feel like a dad (not really sure what that is supposed to feel like) and generally I don’t feel any different than I did when I was 25. But I do know there has been a fundamental shift internally. I’m Daddy now, not just me. That’s no longer mine, it’s Daddy’s and it feels great not worrying about this anymore like a massive weight has been lifted.

Life goes on much as it did when I had my doubts – it’s good like that.

During the last 2 years having the monkey boy around there have been no life changing moments of extreme clarity and no Earth shattering realisations, there have just been adjustments. Just lots of small adjustments. Like I can’t just go to the gym whenever I want, I have to schedule that and get it to work around my latest routine. Another adjustment is always having to be vigilant with where I store things, especially anything sharp/caustic/poisonous, because monkey housemates like opening doors and unscrewing lids.

There are so many and they all just kind of happen organically and you don’t even realise anything has changed until you actually go out of your way and think about it. All these trade-offs are great and I feel like they’re worth it. I love that boy with all my heart and other than the occasional and hilarious tantrums I wouldn’t change it for anything.

I’m not a natural writer, I really find putting pen to paper (or fingers to keys to be more accurate) really hard to do, it’s not a motivation thing, more a lack of confidence in my ability to actually write. I really want to start writing regularly, but actually getting up and doing it is hard…really hard. Do I have anything to say? If I do, does anyone want to hear it?

I wrote a blog post about 2 weeks ago about free weights that I’ve just realised that I haven’t posted. I don’t think it’s a great post and it kinda felt like an advert for the programme I was following myself. I’ll probably not bother posting it – I’m not sure it’s worth it.

Anyway, confidence levels when writing are pretty low. Body confidence is probably around the same point. Not just in how it looks but my trust that I’m not going to fall apart or fail at what I’m doing.

Case in point – I ran the Wolf Run for the…errrr…5th time yesterday. I was certain that my knee was going to buckle under me when I ran, I’ve had problems with my knee in the past, and I was expecting to be limping over the finish line. The only confidence I had was that I was going to hold everyone back, for which I apologised so many times in advance, and discussed failure with my wife enough times to really get on her nerves I think.

Post-Spring Wolf Run 2017 - so much mud in my beard

I question at least once a week if the gym is having an actual effect, I feel like it is in certain situations (looking in the mirror from across the room without my glasses usually – poor light helps) and then when I get close to the mirror I start picking apart every detail.

Progress feels like it is going at a snail’s pace but I’m enjoying it. Free-weights are super fun and I’m only in the gym for between 30-45minutes. Each session has Squats and Deadlifts (both so much fun) and then alternates between Overhead Press and Bench Press. Warm up with lower weights then 3x5 work sets, each exercise increases by 2.5kg each session (except Deadlift which goes up 5kg per session) and that’s about it. Do that twice a week (should be 3 times but I’ve not got time to fit that in), plus climbing and a run once a week is to be added in somewhere.

Right now, I worry that this is boring the hell out of whoever is reading this, but I remind myself that I’m writing this for me – this is a little project for myself to motivate me to keep pushing towards my goal.

Current goal is still Pecs before Tough Mudder.

So, I remind myself every day, it’s harder some days but I have a great wife who calls me an idiot and tells me I’m being silly, the gym is working. I’ve lost a load of fat off my legs, my stomach is getting smaller, I can fit in jeans that have not fitted for 2.5years and the shorts that did “fit” now produce less muffin top. My diet is not the best, and if I actually sorted it properly I’d probably have reached my goal already. But I like sweets 😊 and I’m making progress whilst enjoying my food.

I’m stronger than I’ve ever been (I think, I don’t really have any quantifiable measurements or past data to compare to) and feel relatively good about myself. So, I’m taking that as a win and I’m gonna eat some sweets I think.