Bab + 237

How to be a good father during a World Cup?

This question does not have an easy answer as inevitably a father’s duties to his children come into conflict with a realisation that the TV schedules are full of exciting sporting action.

I took a lead from my own father on this delicate issue over the weekend. He has seen more or less every World Cup since the late 50s/early 60s, and importantly he has been a father since the 1978 tournament.

He and I were left in charge of his grandaughter (my daughter) on Monday. It happened that Italy and Australia were facing off in the second round. What to do?

The unanimous decision was to plonk baby in front of the TV with a selection of favourite toys. Fortunately baby took a keen interest in the moving picture as well as the toys, and as she is now able to sit upright she did an excellent impression of someone with an interest in football. Interestingly she didn’t crawl at all during the game, so perhaps she has a genuine concern for the fate of this 2006 tournament.

That my daughter can both crawl and sit marks a significant shift in her development. I had expected to be chasing her around our flat as she explored its every recess. For now she is content with short straight-line bursts. The great childhood expeditions are still to come.

Baby + 232

Dad

I can crawl. I know you know this already, but I sense there is great veracity in the written word for you. So here it is again: I can crawl.

You know this already. You watched me shuffle along the carpet on Monday. You became very excited, and when you told Mummy on the telephone she did not believe you (a condition of so many wind-ups, I suspect).

I enjoy crawling, but I don't think I am a long distance crawler, more a sprinter. It is hard on the knees, you see. Perhaps you could find a more amenable floor covering when we move. I like grass, but perhaps that it is not a sensible surface inside a house. What do I know, though? I am barely half a year old.

I wanted to say well done on your bets that Australia and Ghana would qualify from their respective groups. That is great foresight by anyone's standards. I do hope I see some of the winnings.

Lots of love. Your daughter

Baby + 227

It's the World Cup and it is clear that my seven and a half month old could not care less.

I have been a World Cup afficianado since 1986, when I can remember the heroics of Lineker and Beardsley, and the evil genius of Maradona. The games were televised late in the evening, of course, because it was in Mexico. As a special treat I was allowed to stay up late. However, I can remember that for the game against Poland I could not rouse myself, despite Dad coming into my room and trying to persuade me to get out of bed. As England scored 3 goals I was sad to have missed the action. I do remember spending a lot of time in the park emulating the teams of '86. I also remember trying to watch the final through a crowd of people on a cross channel ferry.

I have tried to interest my daughter in the tournament, but she is really only interested in the flickering light of the television, so does not care if it is Togo v France or Springwatch. I imagine that until she shows an interest in televised football there may be many interruptions to World Cup viewing - how many fathers catch ten minutes "here or there"?

The urge to crawl remains strong, but as yet there is no forward propulsion. There will be a time when I shall look back on my daughter's stasis fondly, I am sure.

Baby + 214

Dear Daughter

You are learning to crawl. This is a source of pride for your parents. I can tell, however, that it is a cause of frustration for you. Crawling is taking a long time to master, and when you can see exactly where you want to go it is upsetting not to be able to get there. But this is an inevitable condition of existence, and I think it beneficial you should encounter an obstacle early in life. As Nietzsche said, "That which does not kill us makes us stronger."

If you could understand me I might try and persuade you that thumping the carpet would not help you to get from A to B (assuming it is B you wish to reach). Tears will not be much use either. But both are quite natural responses were any of us to find ourselves in the ideal crawling position without forward momentum.

You have, of course, learnt to crawl backwards. It is an odd human tendency to suppose that going backward has less merit than going forward. This is because we are not as a species all that imaginative at times, and our simplistic faith in the notion of progress compels us to suppose that we move forward into the future. As you grow older you will realise that our desire to categorise in this way leads us to do some odd things, such as calling some plants flowers and other weeds, and discarding the latter. Sadly and regrettably we sometimes do this about other humans, and this has often led people to hurt others. I hope you learn that this is wrong and teach others the same.

So I am proud that you have started crawling, and it does not worry me in the slightest that it is what convention would hold to be a crawl. (You will come to understand that your father does not have much time for conventions if they are plain silly or wrong.) What matters to me is that you have propulsion; and, importantly, you travel under your own steam.

You are trying to speak too, although it is perhaps nonsensical to call it such as you have no sense that this is what you are trying to do. Naturally I am proud as punch that you are saying "Dad-da" at regular intervals - at least that is what I hear (vanity precludes any other conclusion). I wouldn't want to contrast this unfavourably with the paucity of "Mo-ma" references, but I have noticed a discrepancy. Such judgement in one so young is admirable.

This is my letter to you on your 7 month anniversary. In two months time you will have been alive longer outside the womb than in. I find this profoundly moving, and I realise how fortunate we are to have you here with us.

With love from your father.