Your Dad

Dear Thumper,

Hi. This is Mom.

I'm multi-tasking. Mona Lisa Smile, a fairly silly Julia Roberts movie, is playing noisily just above the edge of my laptop. But it's ideal Saturday afternoon TV-watching-while-typing stuff. Ingwe is here, crying when I sneeze, but otherwise keeping me company beautifully from the corner.

Dally and Reachy are nowhere to be seen. Probably jointly destroying the exquisite new wingbacks.

And Dad's away. Obviously, since I'm watching a chick flick and playing on my Mac at the same time.

Just wanted to tell you a quick story, about a guy we'll call, um, Nathaniel. For the sake of my memory.

[Ed: Sorry, Thumps. Dad came home early. Yay! So I didn't get to finish your post. I'm now watching American Idol - and blubbing like a child - and live tweeting and eating mini Peppermint Crisps and bonding with Reachy-Pops the Zoolander and contemplating your story. So, here we go again...]

Nathaniel is impatiently awaiting the arrival of his baby daughter. He's waited a good long time, first for her to land in her mom's belly and then for her to grow and then for her to start kicking. He's loved all the milestones - the scans, the heartbeat, the eyelashes, the hiccups. And he's been to almost every appointment, meeting, check-up, test and site visit. (The baby gurus always seem very impressed.)

With only four weeks to go, Nathaniel is a bit gatvol. Granted, he's not pregnant himself. So he's not heavy, tired, achy, grumpy, hormonal, leaking stuff or feeling like a sleep-deprived psychopath. But he does feel like he's been on standby forever, and that the time has come for his baby to make her entrance.

So what does he do?

Our Nathaniel nests.

He paints furniture. Sands it down and paints it again. Paints it again. Hooks up lighting. Assembles cribs. Packs cupboards. Folds clothes. And then, he takes it a few steps further. Not for him, the traditional hands-off daddying. He develops elaborate systems for the nappy bag, the drawers and the general nursery storage. He labels the shelves. He chooses a home-from-the-hospital outfit. He handles absolutely everything, and then demos it to his daughter's mommy, so she doesn't stuff it up later.

And one evening, he and Wifey sit in their baby's nursery, plotting the contents of her special bag, and Nathaniel gets teary explaining why the baby needs a toy. For company. And so does Wifey, who agrees. And it's a beautiful moment in the baby's beautiful room, with all of the beautiful things her Daddy has conceptualised and thought about and sourced and put together - just for her.

And because you're a very clever girl, Thumps, you've probably already worked out that Nathaniel is your Dad (Daniel Nathan) and that you're the lucky, lucky, lucky girl who has him as her father.

May you get everything from your Dad that I missed from mine, through absolutely no fault of his, and may you get it for many many many years.

Love you.

Mom x