The Fear

This afternoon I felt well enough to take Leon for a pushchair ride. Just up to the post box and back. Of course he started yelling as soon as C put him in his winter coat and just didn't stop. I thought it was because he was cold and put a hat on him, but that didn't improve his mood. So I took the direct route to the post box and instead of the long way home I just turned round and came the short way back. Except that I'd just turned back when I suddenly realised he'd stopped crying. 'Oh no! Maybe he's died of cold!' was my first thought. My second thought was 'Duh! He's fallen asleep, that's what we were hoping for' but I still had to stop and stare at him for a moment before he twitched and I could relax.

I think the only way I can cope with this irrational fear is knowing that all parents get it. 'The Fear' it's called in my Dad book. Yep, I bought a few new-dad books, and was given one or two. The best for me was "Fatherhood: The Truth" by Marcus Berkmann.



Very funny, intelligent, and I actually learnt some important stuff. Like knowing that The Fear will always be there.

Now I know why my parents said they'd wished I'd told them about my university bungy-jump the day after, not the day before...