Day One: A trip to the Delly – Friday 12 June 2015

Day One: A trip to the Delly – Friday 12 June 2015

After a brief reprieve (three extra days with Kuepps) today is our first day home alone. Friday seems like a good day to start, with two weekend days immediately following to ruminate and tweak the strategy.

To demonstrate how relaxed and prepared we were for this challenge I thought it appropriate to feed him his Weetbix casually in his bouncy chair, not in the regular seat designed for this purpose – the high chair. Obviously this was a mistake and within seconds Milo’s face, suit and bouncy chair were covered in Weetbix. A nude child before 8am, not a good start.

Still, this gave us an opportunity to fashion a nice Inner West outfit and prepare for our first visit to a local caf. After all, I presume this is our future; sipping double shot lattes in various artisan coffee houses around the Inner West of Sydney, blogging, crafting terrariums out of rescued orphaned street plants and reclaimed pegs and resisting the advances of single mums while Milo sits peacefully chatting to himself and learning cello by osmosis.

Our first visit didn’t quite eventuate this way; with an expectant look on my face I ordered a coffee hoping for some light fawning from the staff over my objectively very photogenic child. But alas the baristas barely looked up over their beards and we were soon on our way home with a takeaway and a very un-complimented child.

After a nice sleep Milo was up and so we watched Game 4 of the NBA Finals. Milo was moderately interested, perhaps wisely didn’t really get caught up in the current Dellavedova infatuation, but did seem to enjoy Shumpert’s flat-top.

Not much active fathering was then required as Milo chased the cats around the living room, giggling maniacally and occasionally getting himself into situations that he needed help out of; his strength and confidence are not yet matched by coordination and balance.


Brave, strong – not very balanced

Much omelette eating, another nap and then a stroll up to the high street deli for desiccated coconut and flowers for Kuepps. A second takeaway coffee on the way home (semi compliment for Milo from the proprietor who said my child looked quite ‘long’) and then some flailing coconut cake baking (again as a tangible indicator for Kuepps that we are well up for this challenge) before mum arrived home (cake not quite ready).

I fully accept that moderate success is rarely amusing for the reader, so I apologise. But day one was undeniably a moderate to above average success. Milo was delightful all day, slept well, ate omelette, giggled at cats and Iman Shumpert and even spent some rare happy time in the pram (even if it did require me to sing the theme song to the 1970s Italian stop motion children’s program Quaq Quao on repeat – small price to pay).

  • Total hours playing NBA Jam on Super Nintendo – 0
  • Episodes of West Wing watched – 0
  • Episodes of Game of Thrones watched – 0
  • Casual yet spontaneous catch-ups with friends and family – 0
  • Words of Spanish learned – 0
  • Podcasts listened to – 2


Milo cartoon 2 edit

Milo is an 8 month old boy, my son. So far he has two teeth and about 26 hairs.

I am Jupiter, Milo’s father. 30s, many teeth and few hairs.

Kuepps is Milo’s mum, my wife. She has both excellent teeth and hair. Kuepps goes back to work in two days after 8 months with Milo, she is displeased about this. I am therefore attempting to quell my overt excitement at the prospect of three months at home with Milo.

The purpose of this blog is to record this three month adventure¬†for future posterity, in the safest place possible – the internet. Without further ado…