The subject of children may not be for everyone, but if it does not turn you off, here is my take on the next stage on.
I did not live in expectation of becoming a grandad. Of course I quietly hoped for it, but it was better to enjoy being a dad, and if grandchildren were to arrive, then great.
And they have arrived, two in the last eighteen months (one to each daughter, to avoid any confusion), and it has been great.
As I write this coming up to Christmas, senior grandson is just sixteen months and junior grandson just eight months. Two boys, but again it did not matter - girls or boys, I was happy.
What part can you play as a grandad (or Nonno, as I have chosen to appropriate the Italian element of my family)? The answer for me is accepting being limited in a hands-on way, at least in the early stages. One did baby-holding, which was welcomed by the mother, especially if it assisted in getting the child off to sleep. But static baby-holding is rarely a success, so it is 'on your feet, son' and a march up and down, rapidly re-acquainting with the verses of 'The Wheels on the Bus' - for the uninitiated, they go round and round.
Further nursery rhymes were brought back to one's mind. and started to have an ear worm effect, notably for me with 'Wind the Bobbin Up'. There are also ones with lyrics one should not overthink - 'Sleeping Bunnies' has a couple of lines: 'They're so still/Are they ill?', which started me off on Myxomatosis. Even that old favourite, 'Teddy Bears' Picnic' can get you into horror movie mode, wondering what exactly would happen if you did not go down to the woods in disguise - exit stage left, pursued by a teddy (if that sounds mysterious, consult The Winter's Tale, Act III, Scene III).
I found a couple of things that worked in the line of tactile engagement once the little face could offer a response. Incy Wincy Spider is a timeless classic. and I surprised myself with my skill on "Round and Round the Garden, like a Teddy Bear', as the pace hotted up and I turned into an approximation of a Whirling Dervish.
At some point I could join in an outing to a mother and baby class, where the little ones are subjected to sensory stimulation - sounds much better if I talk of music, singing and waving stuff in the air. In one the leader put on music so loud that the decibel meter on my phone fired up an alert. In another I decided to sit a couple of seats away from my daughter so as to give her chance to chat with other mothers; then as the sole male in the room I freaked out and grabbed junior grandson so I didn't look like a passing paedophile. And at the end of a class there is a serious risk of perv perception, as fifteen boobs are hoicked out for a feeding catch-up - a good moment to nip off for a wee.
As senior grandson was coming up to nursery stage, it became clear that a regular commitment to a day of childcare would be beyond me, but targeted interventions on 'Grandad Day' could work. Senior grandson and I have enjoyed occasional trips to the local library, where he tours the carpet in the children's section in search of books to tear done from the shelves. In due course we may get to some reading, but his favourite spot is near the desktop terminal, where he will hammer on the keyboard. One day he made a dash for the electricity socket, and I only just foiled him in time.
So what else does Nonno deliver? I can easily convince myself that my visits are for purposes only of my own indulgence, and at moments of child on knee while he takes a bottle of milk, there is overwhelming closeness and adoration. But my children tell me firmly that they value having the company. I have never felt disconnected from them, but maternity leave time has allowed, in between ministering to the needs of the child, some lovely chats.
The whole process has enabled me to understand motherhood much better then I did when I had my own kids. Being of the Boomer generation I did the male typecast job of Monday to Friday working. I weighed in domestically at weekends, but weekday child caring happened (magnificently) in a parallel universe.
Therefore I reckon we need a big shout-out for mothers, who bear the brunt of feeding, soothing, entertaining, and most significantly sleep deprivation until the baby has settled into a secure pattern. As I sat watching mums in the mother and baby classes rattling out the brain deadening song choruses, I reflected on the collective intellect that was being suppressed for a while by the pre-eminence of parental duties.
So let's hear it for the mums! And Season's Greetings!
The author is a writer, speaker, historian, occasional tour guide, and former Managing Partner of a City law firm.