Hiring a Greek slave

Posted on Sunday, 20th March, 2005 by ianmacd

Sarah and I have decided to retain the services of a doula, Kristin Evans, for the birth of our first baby. We met Kristin at our childbirth preparation class, where she is the teacher.

We um-ed and ah-ed for a while over whether we needed a doula to complement our midwife, but eventually decided that it would be nice to have some extra support before Rosanna arrives. Given Sarah’s temperament, there’s a not insignificant chance she’ll tell me to fuck right off at some point, but Kristin has more credibility and can probably retain Sarah’s respect when her patience with me will be wearing thin.

This takes the pressure off me a little bit. If I forget how to help Sarah with her breathing during her contractions, I can be sure that Kristin won’t. That’s not meant to sound like I’m going to shirk my duties — I’m not — but it’s nice to know that someone else will be able to pitch in if I prove useless as a supportive birth partner.

Of course, Rosanna will be there, too, but she’ll be focussed on the medical stuff. Kristin is more for the practical, emotional and spiritual needs of the mother.

It’s going to be cool, I think. Hopefully, the house won’t feel too much like Piccadilly Circus (that’s Grand Central Station, for the Americans out there) with all of these bodies ambling about. Whatever happens, there’ll be a little baby at the end of it all, so I don’t imagine we’ll care much about anything by that point.

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Video games a waste of time?

Posted on Thursday, 10th March, 2005 by ianmacd

Not since Leather Goddesses of Phobos have I spent so many hours on a game, and that was quite some time ago.

I’m talking about Super Mario 64 for the Nintendo DS hand-held gaming system.

I bought myself a DS on a whim just before Christmas and immediately found myself playing Tetris on it. Old habits die hard.

But I had bought this other game, this thing with the Mario Brothers, characters I had vaguely heard nothing about in recent years. I knew they were popular and that Nintendo had been behind them, but I had basically missed out on them. I never owned a Nintendo console, you see.

In fact, the last console I owned was my Atari 2600, back in 1980 (unless you count the Xbox that I won in a raffle at LISA 2001, but sold on Craig’s List without even opening). Since then, the only video game I’ve owned was an Atari Lynx, back in 1989. I bought another a couple of years ago, just for the sheer nostalgia of those old games, which I still think knock spots off the ones kids play today.

Anyway, after quickly reaching the limit of my skill with Tetris, I decided to crack open the Super Mario 64 game I’d bought. I only really bought it to see what it would be like to play a game that had been specifically designed for the DS and used its touch-screen to the full. The only other games I had bought were GBA games, which the DS can also play, but which make no use of the DS’s special hardware.

So, I started to play Super Mario 64 over Christmas in Providence. It took me a while to get into it, as I hadn’t really played this type of game before. Progress was slow. I managed to collect just a few stars and found it difficult to get used to the wealth of manoeuvres that the characters can perform, if one only has the manual dexterity required to manipulate the touch-screen as required.

I persevered, though, and eventually I started to enjoy the game and get better at it. I soon realised that this was a large game, however, and was going to take quite some time to complete.

Well, to cut a long story short, tonight I finally finished it, almost three months after starting it. I’ve been playing this game many hours a week since I purchased it, so it represents great value for money. I managed to clear all 15 levels, each of which contains 7 stars, each star involving a different mission to acquire it.

Those 15 levels are thus good for 105 stars. A further star can be collected in each level by amassing 100 coins as one works one’s way through the course. That brings the total number of stars in the levels to 120.

There are hidden levels, however, which contain one or two stars each. Occasionally, a seemingly insignificant character will hand you a star if you stop to talk to him. One way or another, the total number of stars on offer rises to 150 and tonight I managed to grab the 150th star.

Lest you think that’s all there is to the game, there are rabbits scattered all over the course. They reveal themselves at different moments, at different times and in different locations, depending on which character you happen to be at the time: Yoshi, Mario, Luigi or Wario. These characters also have to be found and released from within the game, as certain stars can only be acquired using the special powers of one of the characters.

Anyway, back to the rabbits. If you catch these rabbits, they give you a key. Each key unlocks a mini-game, which is basically a quick and uncomplicated extra game on the cartridge that you can play when you just have a few minutes to spare. The main game, on the other hand, has so much in it that you really need a few hours at a time to play it.

There are seven rabbits per character to find, making 28 in all. Tonight, I found the 28th rabbit and unlocked the last mini-game on the cartridge. I’ve been so busy with the main game that I haven’t played most of the mini-games, but, funnily enough, Sarah has, as the simplicity of those games appeals to her more than the convoluted nature of the main game.

For sheer entertainment value, Super Mario 64 has to be just about the best $30 I’ve ever spent. It’s kept me busy for three months, made me smile, made me swear, amazed me with its imagination, depth and scope, confounded and frustrated me when I couldn’t figure out the solution to certain puzzles.

And now I’ve finished it. I have my life back! It’s hard to imagine not spending at least an hour on it each evening, trying to find those bloody stars. I’ll have to find something else to do now, like continue to search for a suitable name for Franbert…

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Er is er een jarig

Posted on Saturday, 26th February, 2005 by ianmacd

I was reminded yesterday that today would be my birthday or, more accurately, the anniversary of it. You may infer from this that I’m not one for celebrating the occasion.

On the other hand, one can be surprised by the lovely, creative gestures of those around you. I received just one present; from Sarah, naturally; but what a blinder it is.

It’s a jumper for Franbert, hand-knitted in Sarah’s spare time. The body of the garment is knitted from Debbie Bliss wool, purchased as a job lot on eBay. The white breast of Tux is made from Faroese wool, purchased in Klaksvík on the island of Borðoy. The black of the body and the yellow feet and bill were knitted from Icelandic wool, purchased in Reykjavík. Sarah bought the Faroese and Icelandic wool during our trips to the north Atlantic over the last couple of years.

Franbert’s going to look adorable in this unique item, reproduced below to inspire awe in the reader. Here’s hoping for some cold weather, so that we can show him off in it.

Oh, and Sarah made the knitting pattern for Tux, herself, too. What a clever wife I have.

Jumper for Eloïse.

Jumper for Eloïse.

Posted in Children, Life | 2 Comments

The first cut is the deepest

Posted on Saturday, 26th February, 2005 by ianmacd

I’ve been reading more about circumcision, not because I’m not sure of what to do when Franbert’s born, but because it’s fascinating to read the stories of parents who are misguided and believe it’s the right thing to do.

There seem to be four main arguments:

  • It’s more hygienic.

This is nonsense and has been widely debunked. Paediatricians no longer recommend the practice, even in the USA.

  • It’s important for the boy to resemble his father when naked.

Hmm; let me ponder that for a moment. I don’t remember studying my father’s cock much when I was younger. If it had been circumcised, I can’t imagine that I might have felt traumatised by the difference between his and mine.

Besides, fully mature genitalia look a lot different to a baby’s; don’t the pro-circumcision crowd realise this? Do the fathers shave their balls to spare the delicate feelings of their barren, pubeless progeny?

  • Circumcised tackle looks nicer.

Surely it’s just a question of what you’re familiar with, like shaved armpits on women. (OK, now you’re wondering, so let me inform you that I don’t like those, either. Nature knows best.)

Besides, you have to wonder how far these parents will go with their cosmetic beautification of their offspring. They prefer the neatness of circumcision, so they lop off the child’s foreskin. Hmm; what if they prefer blue eyes to brown? Do they purchase contact lenses? Perhaps blond hair is more appealing than brown. Well, you’d better buy some hair dye, then. Things must get very complicated if the child turns out to be shorter than the parents would have liked or have a hooked nose or large feet.

  • The child might get teased in the changing rooms.

For having a longer dick than the other kids? Yeah, right. What about the kid, who by teasing, has just admitted he was staring at another kid’s dick? That kid stands more of a chance of getting teased, if you ask me.

As an uncircumcised man, I find it all distinctly amusing, bewildering and grotesque to read what people have planned for their baby boys and why.

I’ve never had any trouble keeping my genitals clean, never wondered about my father’s dick (or anyone else’s, as far as I can remember), was not teased at school (of course, I’m hung like a donkey, so that probably helps), and I don’t think my parents had an aesthetic preference where my prepuce was concerned.

Somehow, I survived.

For more than you ever wanted to know about circumcision and the arguments on both sides, I have found discussion, discussion and yet more discussion.

Enjoy (your foreskin).

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If you can keep your penis when all those around you are losing theirs…

Posted on Thursday, 24th February, 2005 by ianmacd

The year is passing quickly. I can’t believe that March is already almost upon us.

My new Dutch passport arrived last week via FedEx. Thank God; I’m no longer trapped. A rather nervous sensation envelops me when I’m unable to travel, especially when I happen to be already abroad.

Today, our cloth nappies and their covers arrived, along with a BabyBjörn carrier. The nappies look so cosy; I can’t wait to put Franbert in one. Changing and washing them will be quite another matter, of course.

We also have a couple of slings on order and Sarah is frantically knitting away with a job lot of wool she purchased on eBay. I suppose you know your wife is technologically advanced when she buys her wool on eBay.

Yesterday, we visited and interviewed a holistic pediatrician, something of a rarity in the overmedicated western world. It’s nice to be hooked up with a pediatrician who doesn’t advocate innoculations and pumping your newly born baby full of mercury. Whilst not injecting one’s pride and joy with mercury sounds like the obvious thing to do, you’d be surprised what the power of convention and a naïve, ovine faith in persons in authority can achieve.

Our pregnancy class starts next week. That should be fun. I’m looking forward to meeting other expectant parents and learning new things.

Finally, it recently came to my attention that 57% of newly born baby boys are still circumcised in the US. I’m stunned! This barbaric practice has no place in the 21st century, yet many parents still automatically have it performed, often with no profounder thought for the matter than to mimic what was done to them.

“Well, if my foreskin was lopped short, causing great pain, mutilating my genitals and reducing sexual feeling, then it must be OK. After all, it hasn’t done me any harm.”

Like I said, I’m consistently surprised at how prevalent the herd mentality is, even amongst educated people. In this country, at least, education is no guarantee of enlightenment.

Male circumcision in the US was at more than 90% in the 70s, compared with 6% in the UK in 1975. Whilst the US figure has recently fallen to 57% for newly born baby boys, this still amounts to 80% of the male population in this country.

I was unable to find a percentage for The Netherlands. Most of my searches for circumcision turned up documents about female circumcision amongst ethnic Muslim minorities. Of course, female circumcision is completely illegal, but there are also moves afoot to outlaw male circumcision in The Netherlands. I couldn’t agree more with the motivation: mutilating your baby should be a criminal offence and adherence to anachronistic religious practices is no excuse.

There are still a few valid medical reasons for circumcision, such as phimosis, but the patient is at least old enough to voice his concerns in such cases. I just don’t have the imagination to put myself in the shoes of someone who believes that today, in the 21st century, there’s a valid reason to remove a part of your child’s genitalia.

It’s a strange world we live in.

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