neil ransome

Who’s The Daddy with Daddy Blogger Neil Ransome

neil ransome

In the latest instalment of my monthly feature ‘Who’s The Daddy’, I’m pleased to introduce Neil Ransome, Daddy blogger of PLUMSNET and Senior Talent Manager at Insanity Group.

Fairly new on the Daddy Blogging circuit, I’m a huge fan of his witty and honest writing style and predict big things for his blog!

Over to Neil…

Single Parent Day

I knew it would eventually happen, the day would finally come, I’d be left to look after Raffy for a whole day. Shock horror.

I’d been nagging her to go out, as I think it’s important.

She went through the list in that condescending tone, you know the one, the one women have mastered over the generations.

I was used to hearing it, usually before I did the food shopping.

I stood there nodding along blankly whilst deciding whether I fancied Dominos or Pizza Hut, happy in the knowledge I’d finally get to have some time to take a nap and play the new Call Of Duty while the baby slept.

After all, how hard can this be?

Occasional nappy change and bottle, the rest of the time he’d be asleep. Easy.

The door shut, it made him jump, wake up and start crying. No problem Neil, just give him a little cuddle like you’ve done a million times before.

The crying continued.

Frantically searching for his dummy while singing wheels on the bus- ‘Where the hell is it?’

Forget it.

I’ll try a bottle instead, when did he last feed?

Actually, when did he last feed?

It’s fine, I’m sure.

I’ll quickly make a bottle- ‘Where’s the bottles?’ F**k, why didn’t I listen?!

Continuing to sing wheels on the bus over and over but in different melody variations as I realised I didn’t know any nursery rhymes other than that, and twinkle twinkle.

This would have been easier if I was paying attention, stupid Pizza Hut and their delicious stuff crust.

I do like them, great balance of cheese.

Hope the driver doesn’t go too fast so the cheese slides off on the corners (found out that little table is to stop the lid hitting the pizza). Oh bugger I’ve done it again. Right bottle! 

That’s done the trick, got that little blip out the way. Time to dress him in today’s cool outfit. Where has she put the vests? And why the hell does he need so many bl**** clothes? 

Right clothed, check, fed, check, not crying check. I’ll bounce him gently on my knee while I fire up the PS4  *cue him puking over his fresh outfit, my onesie (that’s right I’m still in the onesie that I dragged on at 5am that morning) and on the PS4 controller*.

Great, back to the nursery we go, new outfit. I spent the next hour walking round the house saying morning to every object. ‘Morning fridge’, ‘Morning dog bowl’, ‘Morning lamp’.

Once he got bored of that we decided we’ll play for a bit.

Hats off she’s found time to tidy up, impressive, but where’s Burt the bunny or Eddie the Elephant?

After an hour or so of playing peek-a-boo, talking in the highest voice possible, success!-I’ve tired him out and he’s dozed off on my chest.

Downside, I need a wee, I can’t reach the TV controls, my phone or the PlayStation and my left side has gone numb.

My mind wandered off into a daze as I continued to watch Masher and the Bear, clearly a side effect of immense sleep deprivation.

After what felt like hours, I had to move, or just admit defeat and wet myself.

Tash would be furious that I’ve ruined the sofa. I guess I could blame the baby, she always forgave him.

Wow he really didn’t like waking up.

I’ll take him round the park, that sends him to sleep. No time to get ready. Trying to get a wriggly crying baby into a car seat, unfolding buggy, packing everything I might need into an already prepared bag, applying the rain cover to both you and him is a task that could win me a spot in the final of a talent show, but I was finally ready. 

Got to the top of the road, he did the squished up face followed by a smirk. I knew what this meant. I immediately did a U turn and made a dash for home, hoping to intercept before it escaped the nappy. 

After the third set of clothes within a matter of hours, a clean nappy and finally, a happy baby, we attempted our park walk again. The rain had stopped and the park was quiet and calming.

I treated myself to a coffee, took a deep breath and we both sat there peacefully watching the ducks. 

In that very moment, as I cuddled my little Raffy, the stressful morning became a distant memory, and that feeling of loving something someone so utterly and completely, washed over me.

Tash came back home to find Raffy asleep, me sitting there slightly dishevelled in my puke-soaked onesie, exhausted, PlayStation still very much switched off, and Episode 1 of Narcos paused at 17 seconds from when I stopped it earlier that morning.

She looked at my confused, ‘Why haven’t you got changed or brushed your teeth yet? I’m starving, what’s for dinner?’ I felt like I needed a gentle weep. 

Going to work combined with night feeds and a teething baby is by no means a walk in the park. But I’ve a new found respect for mums and stay at home dads.

This really was a lot harder than I thought.

How Tash manages to juggle Raffy, the dog and still manage to do the housework, make dinner and take him to classes, is nothing short of amazing. 

Whilst my first day of single parent life resembled some kind of Home Alone style comedy, I considered it a success and wouldn’t change it for the world- Oh, and I learnt a very valuable lesson too – always follow the list!

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