It's a Girl...!

It’s probably an indication of how I’ve become a [lacklustre] blogger and a slightly more devoted reader that I feel guilty for not posting about our new delivery yet – despite how demanding having a new baby can be. I think people will be more compassionate about the lack of blogging than the Facebook photo requests, but still, this is my platform to brag about my wonderful daughter!

So, my son certainly knows how to make an entrance – mainly due to the fact a daughter popped out! Josephine Kate was born on Sunday 27th June and thankfully came just in time to save me from the apparent disgrace that was England 1 v 4 Germany. This is the first World Cup in memory that I’ve not suffered some form of England-not-being-as-good-as-I-thought-they-were-depression. This is an indication of how much love I have for out new bundle of joy!

After 47 hours of labour, 4 different world cup games watched, countless games at Wimbledon seen through, wearing my Marathon Men tee for most of the duration (I think Liz blames this a tad), Liz kicking my butt at Nerts a few times despite having awful contractions and having a diet of Doritoes and Haribo for three days, a wonderful surprise package came out.

It took me three attempts to wipe away tears and check to see if it really was a daughter before coming to the conclusion that our darling girl must have produced the mother of all finger-wieners during our 12 week scan. Proud moment for me right there. What’s more is that despite calling her “him” for so long, it didn’t feel weird or wrong holding a daughter, it felt natural and right. Not that I wouldn’t have been over the moon with a son, but it doesn’t feel like there’s a son shaped hole in our lives – Josie is more than I could ever have wished for and if one day I’m blessed with a son I will be equally overjoyed.

She has gotten all of her positive attributes from her mom – her good looks and her chilled out personality – and a double chin and big hands and feet from her dad!

In short, I am the proudest man alive – have been for 15 glorious days now (she’s only 12 days old, but the Friday-Sunday of labour Liz was astonishingly laid back, coped fantastically well and made me beam with how well she coped with the ordeal!) and will be for the rest of my life. I know every child is the most beautiful and the most special and loved alive, but Josie is the real deal. There are so many things that I love about her already, when she yawns I swear there is nothing cuter, after she sneezes she makes the most hilariously funny noise which has her dad in hysterics, she finds the best positions to get out poop causing her to either throw herself around my torso or demand mom so that she can poop on her (3 times now!).

I’ll try not to make this a “Phil is bragging about his family again” blog- but no promises. They are simply and utterly wonderful.

P.S. Good luck Sarah Nichols… who is having a girl (??) so very soon. We can’t wait to meet her!

*Regretfully, I will not be posting pictures on this blog – we have taken the stance that only password protected sites will have photos on them.

My Version... Part 1

Those of you who read this will probably have already read my beloved Elizabeth's blog- this is my version. As a man, our stories always start far before women's versions of things. This is how it unraveled...

Back in the early hours of the 5th May 2008, I made the choice to call Mr Watkins and ask for his daughters hand in marriage- quite possibly the scariest phone call I've ever had to make. He was great about it and accepted. The first hurdle had been jumped. This phone call was made at about 2 in the morning and I was so excited that I didn't go to be until 4am... then was awake for a further hour. I knew that I was going to ask the one that I love to be my wife! The previous week I had ordered the ring that Liz and I had chosen together- everything was ready to go, whenever I chose.

Plans were put in place- now was the challenge of surprise. I announced to Liz that in the next week or so we'd be going on a special date- a rarity for our usual spontaneous/ laid back times we spend together. I took that week to fast and pray about the choice I'd made and got great confirmation from Him.

Collecting the ring turned out, thanks to my love, to be a nightmare! I had arranged with a co-worker and great friend from Church to take me into town to collect the ring on the lunch time of Monday 12th May. This was the exact time that Liz decided she wanted to go into town to do some shopping with her friend Anna. I was so mad that my unemployed girlfriend, who could go into town at any chosen time, chose the exact time that I needed her not to be there! A big bag from a jewelery shop is kind of a give away, so with great beads of sweat pouring down my face I headed towards the special shop for a special occasion. After what seemed like an age to complete the transaction I had the ring. It doesn't end there though! That evening Liz's Track Practice finished early and Liz asked to go straight to mine. Because I couldn't think up a good enough lie, I was forced to accept! So the race was on, I finished work at 5.30, she finished Track at 5.30! The same co-worker had agreed to rush me home- only to see her car parked as we came up my street. "No problem" I thought "I can sneak round the back and hide the bag in the garden for a bit!" No such luck. Liz had seen me coming and, most unusually, had opened the door for me before I got there, prompting me to sprint straight upstairs and hide the ring in my room! Nightmare.

In the days leading up to our Big Date, I dropped tiny hints at what we might be doing- being very careful not to lie about anything on the Thursday- carefully worded texts and emails were the order of the day.

On the day, Liz took me to the hospital for a shoulder check up, and I had written carefully worded instructions on a parchment of paper that detailed what kind of things we would be doing that evening without giving away the whole thing. The afternoon was booked off (unbeknown to Liz) which was a chance for me to calm my nerves, pray and get my look on. At 5.15 I picked Liz up, we went into London and got excited about where we were about to go! Disaster nearly struck when the train announcer told us that there were major delays. My major concern at that point was not missing our reservations, but the amount I needed to wee and the potential for a wet pair of jeans. When we reached our chosen destination (having properly disposed of our Starbucks cups) I had the most satisfying wee ever known to man, and felt a whole lot more relaxed!

The fun was just about to start...