I have always been lacking in patience, and it seems that trait has been passed on to the Frankster, as she decided to make an appearance two weeks earlier than scheduled.

On December 17th, at 6.06pm, my amazing wife gave birth to our daughter, Frankie, WITHOUT ANY DRUGS OR EPIDURAL.


It’s amazing to think that the iron grip that smushed my hand during the process is the same one that couldn’t open a salsa jar.

I have seen and done some at least semi-cool shit in my life, captained multiple premierships and was a state hockey champion at 16, saw Carlton win the 95 flag at the ‘G, explored Chichen Itza, my first ad won an international award, to name a few, but I’ve got nothing on her.  I don’t think I can ever top that. And then the way she’s attacked motherhood at full steam is entirely humbling.

This post might not be as entertaining as the others, and I won’t go into all of the gory details, but as many of you will know, and perhaps some will soon discover in the future, it is an incredibly surreal experience that words cannot do justice.

Dudes, just be there when she needs you. She’s gotta carry it for 9 months, and is the life support system from then on. The lack of sleep is tough, but comparatively we’ve got it easy.

As for Frankenstein, she’s got an impressive set of lungs, and a high pitched shriek that even the midwives at the hospital have commented on. It’s just below being high enough so only dogs can hear it, and just loud enough to cause a perforated eardrum. If I was to label it, I would call it ‘rabid cockatoo’. So that is awesome.

The last couple of days have been non-stop screeching. But I get it. It’s a strange world. It’s like when they pulled Neo out of the Matrix. Dude was pretty fucked up at first. It might’ve been hard to tell due to Keanu Reeve’s repertoire of facial expressions extending all the way from ‘confused’ to ‘slightly more confused’, but I could tell he was trippin balls.

I’ve already witnesses some impressive burps and farts, some of which you can feel through three layers of cloth. That’s some pretty good depth. She is also quite the Houdini. No matter what way we swaddle her up to keep her hands down, she finds a way out. There’s even one that looks like a miniature straight jacket, but there’s always a way to escape. And then bonk herself in the head and get upset about it.

I will try and update with any more moments of significance, but right now we’re just enjoying, and surviving, her first days at home.



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