We have been waiting on our bundle of joy arriving now for over 9 months and I fear the stork may have got itself lost somewhere over the North Sea.

Kirsty is now 6 days overdue and time will come when our marvelous NHS will take things into their own hands and induce – not something I’m looking forward to, but it does have its advantages (no calling taxis in a panic at 3am for example!)

Everything’s ready to go, the bags are packed and shiny new slippers and gowns have been purchased for the imminent trip to the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh.

It takes it toll on you after a while. Emotionally, I’m all geared up to start strutting round town with my newly delivered mini-me. Physically, I’m already shattered. The waiting is terrible. Life’s on hold; “her indoors” and I are too scared to step beyond the threshold of the front door for fear of anything happening in an inconvenient and inappropriate place.

I’m starting to get my head round the fact that what’s “in there” will soon be “out here” and I can barely contain myself. The strange pulsating belly and sudden cries of pain from oor Kirsty are becoming far more frequent and the day will soon be upon us (hopefully) when the mornings are no longer heralded by the roars of Iceland trucks, but those of a hungry baby.

Everything else in currently on hold but in the meantime, I have Twitter.

Wikipedia describes sleep deprivation as the condition, either chronic or acute, of having had too little sleep. Helpfully, it also notes that long-term sleep deprivation causes death in lab animals and less alarmingly, chronic sleep-restricted state can cause fatigue, daytime sleepiness and clumsiness.

Having a baby on the way, you would expect a modicum of sleep disturbance. I’ve even heard it said that its nauture’s way of preparing you for the years of toil, turmoil, worry and responsibility that lies ahead. What I didn’t sign up for was the night after night of relentless, bleary eyed, tired to the point of being physically sick routine. At least not before the baby was actually born!

The past few weeks have been cruel. Lack of sleep seems directly proportional to the time left before the wee one graces the planet. Its now got to the point where my spouse and I no longer share the same bed and whilst I’m star shaped on the sofa bed, she is twitching, howking, and practically bouncing around in our marital lair.

We are averaging about 3-4 hours per night at the moment.

Still, it’ll be worth it (hopefully!)

I’d write more, but alas, I’m too tired…

Aldous Huxley, the famous English Novelist and Critic, once wrote: ”Hell isn’t merely paved with good intentions, it is walled and roofed with them.”

Good intentions come in spades when a trip to Ikea is suggested, not least when its suggested by me. For some strange reason, and against all evidence, I usually feel confident that some other, more pressing, engagement will prevail and my altruistic self sacrifice will be nothing more than a gold star in my copybook of  ’Things I Do For You.’

After an afternoon walking drone-like around clean cut Swedish aisles offering such delights as Leksvig, Barnslig, Fabler, Korall Bubblor and, not forgetting, Sniglar, you start to appreciate what old Aldous was referring to. Witnessing such a confusing array of multicoloured ‘necessities’ jutting out from every angle, I found myself deeply puzzled at what some fluffy fabric or injection moulded bright orange plastic could be (no clues given by the packaging) but couldn’t escape the feeling that whatever it was,  it was somehow essential.

As events transpired, we walked away with a cot, some bedding, some fabric squares (towels?) and something made out of rope. I spent the rest of the day feeling drained, penniless and somewhat unhappy with the living room because it doesn’t have that squiggly rafia thing that hangs from the ceiling…

Jeez, what a day! My fair wife and I decided that we needed more room for stuff. Not least for the new pram, baby bath, cot, etc that would soon be gracing our small abode. 

So, after a call to our local storage company and a not so small payment for the hire of a unit for 6 months, we have spent the day lugging what felt like the GDP of Belgium down Easter Road into Leith.

Luckily we had the help of my Brother-in-law, a long suffering man to whom I owe a huge debt of gratitude. We also had our wee niece up (she’s 2! awww) to keep the missus busy whilst us men grunted, huffed and rubbed our chins in the way only men can. 

Eventually, we managed to clear most of the years of accumulated junk out of the various nooks and crannies of our modest 1 bedroom Edinburgh flat and you would not believe the amount we gathered – I have quite clearly been living in the Tardis for the past few years as the shit just kept on coming! 

Anyway, it was mildly enjoyable in the sense that for once I didn’t have my head buried in a Java text book and found to my amazement that I was actually able to string a sentence together without a semi-colon or curly braces!

In all other aspects it was horrible!