All that comes with it

This is likely to be a rather dull post, but I want to thrash something out in my head, and here seems a good a place to do it as any.

I never quite understand those films where the father suddenly realises that his offspring’s childhood is slipping away and he’s missing it. You know the genre, the hardworking detached man is so wrapped up in his own career that he’s oblivious to the needs of his family, then some person or event makes him see the error of his ways. Mary Poppins is a prime example. The thing that bugs me is how can these people not be aware how quickly things move. Within a month of being born a baby is almost a completely different being than it was when it took its first breath. The rate of development is astounding. There’s a reason they count baby’s ages in weeks and months. Every day of a child’s life is to be savoured, because they move on so fast and they will never be that old again.

This week my new shift pattern starts and I must admit I’m a little uneasy about the whole thing. Two months ago when I was sat in my manager’s office asking to condense my hours my mind was focused on the prospect of having four days off a week. Now when I look at my rota all I can see is the three 13-hour days dragging out endlessly in front of me.

Currently Kerry works Monday though until Thursday, having Friday and the weekend off. This will obviously change when she goes on maternity leave in a couple of months, but that’s the pattern she’s likely to go back to when she goes back to work as well.

I am guaranteed every Wednesday off, but other than that my shifts are relatively random. I tend to get every second weekend off, but that’s not a given.

Because my days off are not set (other than a Wednesday) Amy is booked into nursery Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. This isn’t really a problem in itself, she loves it there – if you turn up early to take her home she often protests that she wants to be with her friends. The staff seem pretty switched on and, as I’ve mentioned before, one of the nursery-nurses lives on our row of houses.

The main reason I think I’m worried is that my days off are frequently going to coincide with Amy being at nursery and Kerry being at work. The reason I condensed my hours was in order to spend more time with my family and I have a sneaky suspicion that it’s going to have the opposite effect. On days when I’m working I’ll be out from either 7:30am until 10pm, or 9am until 11pm, which doesn’t leave much time for fatherly duties. Plus if we happen to be busy at work (which we are at the moment, I think it might be the heat) I’m going to be absolutely knackered.

I know I’m lucky. I know some fathers work those kind of hours for five or six days a week, and only get to see their kids on the weekend. But then again those types of people generally earn a hell of a lot more than I do and if I’d wanted that kind of life I’d have chosen it.

I’ve talked it through with Kerry and we’ve come up with a pretty reasonable solution. Just because Amy’s booked into nursery doesn’t mean I have to take her there. I’m planning on spending an average of three of my four days off a week with her. That’s probably usually going to be her spending two full days with me then and two mornings with me taking her to nursery in the afternoon (so they can deal with her when she gets tired, Ha!). She tends to get up early in the morning too, so I’ll still see her on the days when I work.

Unfortunately I can’t take Kerry out of her work whenever I fancy it, so that aspect is going to be more difficult. We’ll just have to make sure that we make the time we spend with each other count. After all, it will only be until the baby’s born, after that she’ll be on maternity for six months. And after that’s over there’s theoretically nothing stopping me switching back to my regular hours.

So all in all it’s probably going to turn out OK.