I haven’t been blogging a lot recently, in fact i haven’t been doing a lot of anything. The reason for this may or may not become clear during this post.

A couple of days ago i had ONE of the most epic days of my life, I highlight the word ONE in case anybody thinks i am putting this day above the day my son was born or any other meaningful event i have been involved in. It wasn’t the most important day of my life, but it’s right up there. It was my University graduation ceremony and was like nothing i have ever experienced before.

The day started much as any other, getting Ruby ready for nursery, feeding Mason etc, the kind of things i do without really thinking to much about them. They are routine yes but that is not to say that i see them as chores. Things ramped up however later in the day. I’m gonna skip to the end because the whole day is unnecessary and possibly a little narcissistic to describe in full.

Getting my robes put on was a weird feeling, and not just because the guy trying to put them on me was about 2 feet shorter than me. As soon as i had them on it was off for photos (at this point i have no idea what i look like, i havent seen myself at all). I stood in a que of people ready for my photo, i saw a girl from my course further up the line we waved at each other. Ten minutes and at least 5 buckets of sweat later i  was at the front ready for my picture. I wandered into the studio and was given instructions on where to stand, a man photographed me 3 times then said done. It all felt very unreal, as i walked back to find my family i bumped into some other people from my course and chatted briefly (i still haven’t seen myself). As i walked back to my family across the concourse my dad and Jen started snapping pictures of me walking towards them. As i reached them i asked for a camera so i could look at a picture they had taken of me. At least 6 photos were taken of me and several hundred people had seen what i looked like before i did which just felt weird. I don’t consider myself vein but the chances are that i never leave the house on any given day without walking past a reflective surface so not having any clue how i looked on this important day in my life was more than a little disconcerting.

The ceremony was really good, the Pro Vice Chancellor was really down to earth and apologised for all the formality that was necessary and then told everybody to make sure they cheer for people they knew. The lady reading names had an awesome voice she sounded like Moira Stewart, totally missed her calling as a newsreader. It was time to go up, i’d like to tell you i wasn’t nervous, i’d like to tell you i went up high fived the Pro Vice Chancellor and did a back flip, i’d like to tell you anything that happened between my name being read out and me sitting down but it was a complete blur. I think i was concentrating on not falling over so hard that i don’t recall it at all, the only thing i do remember is the big cheesy grin i had on my face as i sat down with my certificate in my hand. I’d done it.

The rest of the day was equally as blurry, some photos with friends, returned robes , quick drink and back home to Doncaster for a meal. It would have been nice to stay out and go drinking in Sheffield but reality kicks in, we have 2 kids and one of them had nursery the next day. I don’t feel like i missed out though, we had a lovely meal picked up the kids and then came home. I asked Jen if she needed anything doing as she pottered about getting ready for the following day, she told me to chill out. It occurred to me that my celebratory cigar was still in my suit pocket.

I walked out into the park across the road from our house, it was about ten o’clock. It was incredibly peaceful, i couldn’t hear a thing. As i wandered around smoking my cigar everything faded away, all my concerns at having no job, no money and owing several large faceless corporations this months money and probably some of last months to. I just didn’t care, for the half hour of pure, slightly light headed peace sitting on the swings, spinning the roundabout round and breathing clouds of cigar smoke into the atmosphere i just did not care about anything. My peace was broken by an eastern European gentleman asking me for a light and looking bemused by the size of my cigar as he lit his cigarette from it. I thought about the next day when reality would truly kick in and i faced the prospect of potentially signing on in order to get some form of income and then decided to worry about that tomorrow. Light droplets of rain started to hit me my face and clothing making my shirt a slightly darker shade of red as i walked slowly back to our house which had always been in sight and thought about going upstairs checking in on Ruby, climbing into bed and holding my gorgeous girlfriend while watching Mason’s chest rise and fall in the cot by our bed. Yes we have got a lot of problems at the minute, but I’ve got a hell of a lot to be happy about too.

1 week ago I found out my results from University. Prior to getting these results I applied for 2 jobs. Why only 2 jobs? Well I was under the impression that I would ba a dead certain for at least one of these. Maybe this was a touch arrogant or niave but it has been my understanding that qualified social workers are in short supply and heavy demand, however things do change.

Social Workers ae in short supply but one factor (and I am by no means blaming this one thing entirely) that has changed is that public spending is being cut. This means that one job I applied for that was offering many jobs to both experienced and newly qualified workers reduced to less than a handful of jobs. As a result in the amount of available positions being reduced they really only want experienced workers as if they can only have a fraction of the workers they need then the ones they get need to be good.

As I previously said I’m not blaming this solely for my difficulty finding a job, friends of mine have jobs already, it just means I need to broaden my job search and apply for anything and everything going. This is exactly what I am starting to do. I am lucky that I am still getting shifts at a childrens home which means poverty is kept at bay, for the meantime.

Dig deeper and keep your chin up, this is my advice to myself.

Yesterday was D Day, the D could stand for Destiny, it could also stand for Delightful and it may even be said to stand for Desmond but what it definately stands for is Degree.

Yesterday morning started much as any other iPhone release day. Me being jealous of people getting their new iPhones but aside from that the morning was much like any other. I dropped Ruby at nursery and came home to faff about with things and play XBOX. We had decided to go through to Sheffield as a family day out and picnic in Endcliffe Park. The day wasn’t as gorgeous as was predicted but the weather stayed niceish and got nicer. The park was great fun and Ruby especially loved the stepping stones over the river. There was no escaping the time creeping towards 3.30 though so we packed up and headed to Uni to get the results of 4 years hard work.

My journey into education started when I suffered a series of panic attacks at work. I was advised to avoid returning to my job if possible as it may be the cause of the stress. Six weeks off work gave me time to think about my life and make some decisions to change it. I couldn’t avoid going back to work but I could go back part time and go to college. I was never interested in going to Uni first tine round, which was good because I couldn’t have if I wanted to. I got 3 C’s 3 D’s and 3 E’s at GCSE hardly university material, I had no idea what to do with my life. I was 16 I had disappointed myself and my family because I hated school. All this being said A levels then Uni was the wrong route for me, I’m glad I waited till later in life. It was tough, I’ve had a lot on my plate over the last 3-4 years including the birth of my son while in the middle of an important piece of Uni work but I’ve never failed a unit, never had a resit and now I have a gorgeous family, a degree and a career path to show for it.

I’m proud of my accomplishments and can’t wait for the next chapter of mine and my familys livse to begin.

Lat week I mentioned that I started doing the 100 press up program which should surely mean that this week is week two of said program. Well no, it isn’t. It’s week one all over again, why?well my own stupidity and over riding ability to lie to myself. Before entering into week one a test is performed to see how many press ups you can do. I lied to myself and said that I managed 6. What really happened was I did 5 and a bit really bad press upy type things and counted them as 6. I have noticed a marked improvement over the week of how many truly bad press ups I could do but for me this isn’t enough. Admitting defeat I have gone back to the beginning and started again. As a result my press ups this morning were a lot closer to the ground than last week and my form is a hell of a lot better to. Due to the extra effort put into the new press ups I’m doing I still found day 1 challenging enough to not be easy, that last one was a doozy. So it’ll take 7 weeks not 6, lesson here, be more humble and don’t think your better than you are. Actually that applies to life in general really.

Last night I had a shift working with a young Autistic boy in his home so that his parents could go out and spend some well deserved time together. It was a good shift we blew up balloons, bounced on a trampoline, shreded magazines and for a brief period got lumps kicked out of me. I set off to the young boys home with the address entered into maps on my iPhone and a podcast playing away. My iPhone was sat in my charging cradle/ FM transmitter effectively broadcasting the podcast to my car stereo and showing me the maps without me having to hold it, all is well.

As I got off the motorway to drive to the young boys house the signal died on my phone preventing the map from updating, this was really frustrating as I hadn’t needed them till this exact point. I knew the house was only about 2 miles away but 2 miles of housing estate is a lot of houses.

Driving around trying to get a signal and growing more and more frustrated I got annoyed by the usually entertaining podcast I was listening to. I pulled the mini jack that was sending the audio to my stereo from the top of my iPhone to silence it. Signal returned shortly after and I made it to the job on time, phew. Upon returning to my car to come home I wanted to finish listening to the podcast so I plugged in my cradle sat the iPhone on it but met some resistance when plugging in the mini jack. I tried again and felt less resistance and it went in. I set off driving but the sound quality was shocking, lots of static and the sound was real quiet I couldn’t make out what was being said. I pulled over to take a look and realised what had happened. I wanted to cry.

When I pulled the mini jack out in frustration while driving I must have done so at an angle and snapped off the end of the mini jack inside my phone. When I tried to put the mini jack back in the resistance I felt was the broken off end which I then proceeded to push right to the bottom of the headphone socket. I am planning on getting an iPhone 4 in a week or so meaning this won’t really affect me for to long, however I was planning on selling it and this will probably mean I can’t or have to take less for it as a result. I am not a happy bunny, at all!!!

On the 3rd of June I had my final exam at Uni. That’s it, I’m completely finished, no more nights spent in the library finishing essays, no more revision for exams and no more role play in class. It seems completely unfathomable that it’s all over, it’s been such a huge part of my life for 3 years and the previous year at college too. I’ve made new friends, learned new things and gained new experiences but most of all I will now have (if I pass) a career path!!! Something i’ve never had, I’ve just bumbled around from job to job and that’s exciting and a little bit scary too. I’m going to be a social worker, this is a job title that stirs up very strong feelings in some people and quite frankly that will possibly be the smallest issue that I face on a daily basis. As much as I am a little scared by my future line of work I can’t wait to get stuck in and start using the tools I’ve been equipped with over the last few years. I’ve applied for a couple of jobs and am currently waiting to find out if I have an interview.

At the same time as being excited to move on I’m a little sad to be leaving Uni behind. After the exam pretty much everybody went to Bar One at the union and much alcohol was consumed while chatting about the past and about the future too. I will really miss hanging out with all my Uni friends and I am hoping to keep in touch with many of them but will definately keep in touch with a few. We get our results on the 24th of June which is not very far away at all. It is coincidentally the release of the iPhone 4 which I really badly want but don’t want an 18 month contract as that means I can’t have the iPhone they bring out next year. Another part of me feels that if I got it on release day as well as my results it would be extra specially awesome.

This summer is shaping up to be a hell of a lot better than last year already just because I have some part time work already in place which is great. Last year I had one days work in the 18 weeks I had off, hopefully I will have a job sooner than that this year and money is certainly a factor as we are moving house in a few months, there are now two children to feed and put clothes on as opposed to one and I’ve been supported by Jen for the last two and a half years so it’s time I returned the favour when her paid maternity ends. Everything is looking very positive so far though and other than Ruby having chicken pox all is well at home, I’ve never been happier.

I’ve said in the past that I find it difficult to diet without exercising at the same time. I think it must be that they compliment each other so much that to do one without the other seems wrong in some way. With this in mind I was planning on starting up my running program again alongside a diet. I had got quite far through the running program before I stopped due to essays and exams stress kicking in and it just becoming the last on a long list of things to think about. Jen has decided that she wants to lose a few pounds, I hasten to add that I don’t feel she needs to and have told her so but she says it would make her happier to lose a couple of pounds so I support her in this. She did however decide to start this diet on Saturday! I told her Monday was the day to start diets, everybody knows that but she was determined. I decided to not start till Monday anyway but found that because we spend so much time together (she is still on maternity and I have just finished Uni) that I too started dieting. We both have downloaded calorie counting apps for the iPhone and I think seeing what calories she has left alongside her obvious determination has helped her to stick with the diet. What’s really helped me is having her do it with me.

I will not be discussing Jens success other than to say she’s doing really well as it is not my place to talk about it. I however have lost six pounds since starting on Sunday. Week one losses are always bigger so I’m not expecting to maintain this rate of loss but am happy with my progress this far. I intended to start running on Monday but Sunday night I just couldn’t sleep at all. I always run early morning before the kids wake up (between five and 6 usually) so a 3am bedtime meant there was no chance of this happening at all. No worries says I, I will just start tomorrow. Yet again this was a no go, Ruby woke up early not very well. She’s got chicken pox. This irritated me greatly (me not running not Ruby being ill) as Wednesday is no day to start a 3 times a week with a rest day between running program. During Monday I discovered an app for the iPhone, and it’s related website that trains you to do 100 press ups in 6 weeks, I figured this would be perfect for my none running days to build back up some upper body strength. I started Monday and today my arms are aching like buggery, no pain no gain though so I will do day 2 today and keep you updated on my progress. I will start running next Tuesday, I will… Probably

Ive been really busy over the last few months with my degree, I probably could have kept blogging and maybe I should but whenever I thought about writing my blog it felt like I was cheating on my degree, is that insane? Probably. Anyway I’ve got lots to talk about and won’t try to do it all in one post, if you were Reading about my experiences of my son being born I’ll get on it as soon as I can.

Anyway to start with a few weeks back I read a story about 2 lesbian girls being supported by their school to attend their prom as a couple. When i read this i thought to myself “why is this news?” A school is accepting and supportive of it’s students as it should be big deal. I’m not sure what this says about me as a person if anything at all to be honest. Then I started thinking, it is a big deal to them and it’s a big deal to society to. Acceptance isn’t a given, it should be but unfortunately a lot of intolerance exists. My expectation that a story about 2 lesbian girls at school would end badly shows how jaded I have become to news of this nature. My initial reaction was that it wasn’t news worthy because it was good news and not bad news.

A story a week or so later was more what I have come to expect from the media. It was supporting a young girl who had refused to cover her head on a school trip to a mosque. Her school (a catholic school at that) berated her for such a display of disrespect. The newspaper however flipped this story on it’s head to make the school look bad for forcing her to do something against her will. The punchline of course being that it was all faked and that no such event took place. The young girl and her mother banked on the fact that the newspaper love stories of intolerance and would lap this up.

Message basically reads that he world can be a nasty intolerant prejudiced hell hole and because I expect this the good news stories don’t feel like news. We need to ensure more good news gets through to break up some of the grim reality

Not posted on my blog for some time now so thought i would explain to anybody (nobody) that reads it and doesn’t know that i’m trying to finish my degree right now.

Got a lot on my plate in the form of essays to finish writing, exams to revise for trying to find gainful employment for after i qualify and not neglect my family in the process. I feel i may be falling short on the latter of these as i have moved to Sheffield for the entirety of this week and most of last week in order to study.

Jen is however amazing and realises that it is only a couple of weeks which matter not in the grand scheme of things so all, i hope, is well.

Thats it for the worst blog post ever, apologies to anyone who is waiting for part 3 of my trilogy of posts but as soon as i finish all this University malarky i will be able to finish it and get it posted.

Part two of my Trilogy of posts about my personal experiences of child birth. I am a man, i acknowledge that my experiences of child birth in no way compares to the experiences of the woman giving birth but that does not mean that my experiences should not be written about, after all this is my website. Part one is here if you want to here what happened in the hours leading up to us leaving for hospital.

It turns out that despite the warning of the smiley midwife regarding the staffing levels (2 midwives instead of the scheduled 6) the level of care we received was pretty bang on. W were escorted to a room which was sizable, had lots of cupboards and machines and asked to make ourselves comfortable. We did the best we could after all this was a room where our son would be born and featured a not to comfortable chair and a hospital bed.

I’m wary of how much i disclose here as this is my experiences but a lot of the things i will be describing don’t happen to me they happen to Jen, i don’t want to upset her in any way so this may or may not be edited slightly.

What must have been going up for 10pm The smiley midwife came in to examine Jen, 4 centimetres was the result of the proclamation. I’d like to point out that at this point Jen was clearly experiencing discomfort but she was not screaming blue murder or anything (in short she was a trooper throughout). Our options were explained, we could either go home for a bit and come back later or Jen could go down to the ward, a ward where men are not allowed at night so i would have to leave. Neither of these options sounded appealing to us, Jen did not want to be left alone quite understandably and neither of us wanted to go home as the town resembled Narnia during the White Witches reign. I think Smiley midwife guessed what we were thinking and said she would give us a minute to think and left the room. While we discussed these rubbish options smiley midwife returned and said it wasn’t that busy so she could give us an hour in the room to see if things progressed, fantastic I don’t have to leave Jen on her own all is well. The following hour and a half passed without a visit from Smiley. This hour was far from event-less as Jen was experiencing contractions throughout but in Labour terms there was nothing to write about.

Smiley returned and examined Jen, 6 was the update which meant we could stay hoorah for Smiley her negotiation skills and poor time keeping. The time is approximately 11.30pm now, Jen is being amazing and i am being a completely useless man, but from what i hear that’s pretty much my expected role. I was holding Jen’s hand rubbing her back, telling her i love her all the usual and expected stuff. I don’t know how other expectant fathers feel at this point but i was doing these things out of lack of comprehension at what else to do. The truth being there probably is very little else you can do, you cannot ease her pain, you cannot do any of it for her and you certainly can’t make it stop, so what do you do? If anyone who has been through this can tell me I’d love to know, really i would but as it stands i continued to feel like a spare part.

The next hour brought a massive increase to the length and intensity of the contractions. Jen would ask me to get Smiley for some pain relief during the contraction and then as it faded she would tell me not to. This made me feel like i had something to do, as tiny a task it it may be and then not have anything to do again. I kept asking if she was sure she was ok without the pain relief and if she wanted it then i would get it for her. Yeah i was grasping at straws in a mix of wanting to feel part of the experience, helping Jen get through it and realising that it was all her, she had to do it pretty much by herself but maybe if i talk enough crap she won’t realise this and maybe it would be more bearable for her as a result.

Truth is i was a bit scared, i have never seen Jen in that much pain and unless we have another baby i never want to see her in that much pain again. It’s not just a feeling of helplessness but also the pure horror of seeing the woman you love in what seems like agony and being completely powerless to stop it, and that is scary. I have a bit of a protective nature and always have, my size gives me the advantage of being able to prevent people starting fights with my friends, yeah i like that, it’s a power thing and in moderation who doesn’t like a bit of power. Powerless however sucks, and it sucks real bad and that is how i felt that night.

Jen finally got to a point where she decided the pain was to much and she needed relief. I went to the nurses station (what am i, American) or whatever it’s called in the UK to see everybody eating take away pizza, man i was jealous. I informed somebody that Jen wanted pain relief and was informed i should return to the room and press the button, doubtless the only reason this system was put in place was to avoid prospective dad’s seeing pizza. Button pressed and here comes Smiley, I explained Jen’s pain relief of choice was Pethadine. Smiley asked if Jen just wanted to try gas and air for a bit, Jen answered that in no uncertain terms she wanted something more than just gas and air, however she did accept gas and air until the drugs came. Smiley returned with an injection which apparently was agreed with Jen would not be Pethadine but Diamorphine, i don’t know what i was doing when this was discussed but i don’t recall that conversation.

Obviously painful contractions continued for about ten minutes at which point Jen said she felt the need to push, button pressed and Smiley arrives and examines Jen and with surprise in her voice states “well that woman’s Epidural will have to wait, your fully dilated”. The next five minutes were a blur, Smiley took on the guise of Tommy Lee Jones in Volcano and started barking orders at me. Me, why is she telling me to do things, I’m the dad not a staff member. She asked me to fetch a thingy from the cupboard, take a wotsit from the doofer and move the hoojit to the side of the doodlebop. Truth is i have no idea what she asked me to do i just remember that i did it. The last of her orders was to press the call button. I stood by the side of Jen holding her hand and watching Smiley at the business end of birth. She looked at me and asked if I’d pressed the button, i had but nobody had come. Apparently i had incorrectly pressed the button (god knows how that is possible) so Smiley pressed it and within seconds a baby catcher (i know i envision a baseball catchers mitt too) appeared in the room.

Mason’s head was visible, i could not help but watch, it was indescribable but in a really good way, Smiley’s hand was cupped near the top of Mason’s head ready to hold his head and I’m guessing support his neck and head from flopping. I’ve heard that a lot of men are freaked out and even put off sex as a result of seeing a baby being born. I can’t see how they could view it as anything less than amazing, if i were religious i would call it a miracle but I’m not and Atheism does not afford us a word of that magnitude but if it did, this would be that word. Then i panicked, Jen asked me later why i didn’t cry because she expected me too, i didn’t cry because our baby was blue and the cord was round his neck and my brain went to a really bad place. I asked if he was ok probably with an inflection of fear in my voice, Smiley just answered “yeah he’s fine, it’s really common” all the while unravelling the cord from round his neck. He was placed on Jen’s chest and he started to cry, it was the best most relieving sound i have ever heard in all my days of existence.

I was asked to cut the cord with the instruction “press down really hard as it is really gristley” i took this to mean Press down really hard in one motion. I was pressing really hard, the baby catcher gave me no further instructions then after a few seconds the job was taken away from me as it needs to be done quickly. Baby catcher then used a Scissor action to cut the cord, i felt robbed, misinformed and duped out of cutting my son’s cord. Her instruction’s weren’t clear and she offered no support while i was trying. This really upset me at the time as i’m sure you can imagine but as time has gone by i have realised the lack of importance this has over our son being healthy.

We have a son, he’s a small, wrinkly, fleshy, little bundle of crying but he is the most gorgeous small, wrinkly, fleshy, little bundle of crying ever and i instantly fell in love with him. Smiley said she needed to go do the other woman’s Epidural and baby catcher claimed she would return with tea and toast which i presumed was an odd joke but turned out to be a real thing. All the while Mason was laid on Jen’s chest gurgling and looking quite content with his weird little hat on. After tea and toast and the reccomendation that Jen have a bath i was left alone with my son. Just me and him it could have been a beautiful movie style moment, but i’m an idiot so it wasn’t.

If you want to find out why you will have to wait for the final part of this trilogy.