Occasional Commentary..

I’ve tried to discontinue auto-posting to my Twitter and Fb accounts. This is the test.. Sorry.

Let me back up a bit.

I think a terrible mistake would be waiting until you love kids before you have one of your own. I never really got there and only tolerated most of them in small doses. We all know people who are drawn to the drooling infant on the other side of the room and won’t rest until they’ve cuddled it, but for most of us we probably won’t get there.

I imagined it was probably something which would be switched on once I had my own. Some paternal, all-understanding glass through which I’d suddenly view the gurgling world. Not so, really. My baby has found a place in my world which I never knew was there, and cannot imagine life without, but other people’s kids are no less strange & awkward than they were. I have not developed a sudden tolerance for baby-goo, or an understanding of kids that drop their clangy toy on the floor over and over and over. Unless it’s my baby, of course. Then the noise isn’t noise, it’s communication. And the goo means she’s sick and my heart breaks as a result..

If I thought about the reaction to other kids for long enough I’d probably feel bad about it, but I’ve come to realise that this is how humanity survives. Every parent has these feelings for their baby, which gives it the best possible chance at survival and happiness. It all works out in theory. We’re here because someone had these feelings for us too, at least until we scratched the car.

Twitter: @antonyadelaar

The walls and walls of unidentifiable doodahs in a baby store can make it one of the more bewildering shopping experiences, with the possible exception of that irrigation supplier on Oxford Road. I’ll catch myself in a bit of a trance, staring at things, wondering where I’d stick them or what they taste like. Most items smile back with a bit of a taunt. By the third stand I’ve forgotten why I’m there and assistants start approaching me with concerned expressions. Sir, do you know why you’re here? No. You can easily acquire goodies for applications and circumstances which most experienced people have not encountered yet.

The trick seems to be to combine imagery and concepts in the design of single items. So, for instance, a rubber thing which you attach to the edge of a door to stop it from slamming is useful. And bears are loveable. But a rubber door slamming stopper shaped like the head of a bear is useful and cute, albeit slightly creepy. Honestly, I think the submarine-shaped bath thermometer is quite cool and I can imagine it being engaging even with no baby nearby. Then there are the floating alphabet letters which make bath time both hygienic and educational as you can start to spell what you see. What did you do Noonoo? asks dad as he fishes for a P and two Os. Then there’s the camo baby bib, with little pockets. Mostly for keeping nutritious food off clean babygros but with more than a hint of military utility, and also making you wonder if you’ll know when it’s dirty. Has anyone seen the bib? I’m sure it was just here.. No mother would buy this. And I can’t believe anyone really needs a machine which heat seals nappy bags closed, forever. This is what happens when a baby products manufacturer hires a bachelor scientist, or something..

So, I’m thinking: I can do this. I can create things which are useful and surprisingly intriguing all at the same time. These guys don’t wait for the demand; they create it by creating the weirdness. You thought you were there for bum cream but found yourself wondering if you perhaps needed a spoon with wings on it. Doesn’t everyone? Would they go to the expense of producing and marketing flying rubber cutlery if we didn’t need it? This is a cash cow. They prey on the insecure and uninformed, and I think that with enough caffeine I will be able to create stuff which confuses the most experienced amongst us. Please send me your ideas and I’ll mix it all up a little.

Footage of New Year’s eve celebrations always helps me confirm something: People need very little good reason to get silly. Images include those of sweaty, writhing multitudes yelling along with the clock and embracing deliriously. And that guy involved in a drunken stand-off with police after being spotted walking down the freeway swinging a deck chair… New Year’s is an accepted reason but is it really a good one? What are we celebrating? The fact that we haven’t killed ourselves drinking until then? Is everyone in that street mardi gras walking into a job promotion in the first week of January? Or perhaps, on their way to the party they discovered, wonderfully, that they were about to become parents? And we get so excited about it that we count the year in one second at a time. I mean, there are many things which I love deeply, but nothing that I count towards one second at a time. Sorry. And then there’s that song we sing which no-one understands. We could really pick any date at all for a party like this, we just need to all agree. I’m cool with 28 March, for what it’s worth.

So what’s this thing all about? It’s about norms and expectations, first of all. Ever ended up at a gig you didn’t really want to be at but felt you should, based on whatever, but still ended up going large at? Right. Then, there’s the blanket-immunity bit. You know that almost anything you do on the evening of 31 December will not be frowned upon in the majority of Western cultures. Ticket to ride. Footage at prime time may get awkward but they usually put the blurry bits over your face as you’re being hoisted into the back of the van. Then there’s the thrill of shared association and purpose (read Mob Madness) which is always exciting. It’s why concerts and sporting events always rock and the most stoic of characters find themselves hoarse the next morning.

I enjoy New Year’s (except for the suggestion that there is only one time in the year that you can make important decisions). If you’re walking into a promotion or becoming a parent, congrats. For the rest of us, it would make more sense if we were shouting and embracing about something meaningful, instead of a shaded block on a dog-eared desk calendar. I’m choosing to work on being remarkable in the new year, and I’ll be celebrating that in advance.

http://antonyadelaar.tumblr.com/

It’s important to bring some closure to my previous post, for all those who are wondering whether our 4-month old darling received anything on her first Christmas. Well, funny story. I hit the mall to sort out some last minute stuff, after having written what I did previously, and ended up buying an item for my wife and two for the infant. I know. After surprising my wife with items for the infant we then started to discuss whether we should be wrapping them, knowing we’d be unwrapping them ourselves. It’s not as if her hands work yet. It then took a further bizarre twist when we found ourselves writing her a card. You know, just so that she could identify her loot in the pile before reading something meaningful. I know.

To cut a square story round, we had a fabulous day with family and the infant scored more than anyone else. One day she’ll even know about it. Bless.

It may seem like a strange question, but I’ll explain. One of my most heart-warming moments in the day as a new dad is walking into my baby girl’s room in the morning. It’s because I always get a smile within seconds of waking her. It’s completely instinctive and has nothing to do with how I look, what I’m bringing with me or what I’m saying in a silly high-pitched tone. I’d also love to believe that it’s because I’m her treasured daddy, but I actually think that it’s also a response to another person in the same space. Infant reactions to stuff have got me thinking about what is truly instinctive for humans.

Now, I know it may come as a surprise, but it’s been a while since I smiled at someone within seconds of waking up. I’m usually good within an hour and a half. You just need to think about the 8am office arrival routine, where grunts are exchanged while avoiding eye contact, to realise that we’ve all transformed since the nursery. We’re trying very hard to be adults, aren’t we?

Now gimme a smile..:)

So, our baby daughter is four months old. It’s mid-December and we’re trying to decide if we should be giving her a gift. I mean, it’s not as if she going to know about it. In fact, she probably won’t even understand it next year. If we did it it would be for us, or because we know people will ask us, not for her. But then, would we really be able to escape the guilt of knowing that we gave our little bundle of awesomeness nothing for her first Christmas. I can just imagine us flipping through the Christmas pics in the future, all of us surrounded by ripped gift wrap, except her. Now that won’t end well.

I’m off to the mall.