Real Men Carry Babies

Dave is a big tough bloke, a real man's man. I love that about him. I love his sandpapery stubble, his strong hands (marginally bigger than mine) ... and the way he speaks like a true-blue Aussie. Lot's of "g'days" and "mates".

So I found it confusing but very cool whenever he wanted to wear Rocco in the sling. He was very ill when Rocco was a newborn, but gradually, we started walking together again and he wanted to carry him.

Here they are last year, Rocco is a few months old and Dave was pretty bald from chemo ....

Actually, that is my cool green hat I got from Deus but Dave stole it. He was like, "Oh come on hon, let me wear it!" With all the cancer excuses, I mean really. I found that hat recently and threw it in the bin ... fucking chemo ridden, I swear to God it stank of cancer and sick and yuck.

So there's this thing called the Winter Magic Festival. Held every year on the Winter Soltice, it's a parade of colour and hippies and drummers, stalls and live bands and art and busking. Dave and I had been going to it together every year for eight years. Until last year ... last years Winter Magic Festival sucked baaaaad. Rocco was seven weeks old, Max was traumatised, and Dave had just had his second ever chemo treatment. He couldn't come, so I went by myself. It was a wicked day, windy and just wrong. I drove around for an hour trying to find a park ... and had to resort to staking people out in the carpark. (Something I never do, but Rocco was hungry and Max just wanted to play.) I asked this guy if he was leaving .... he ignored me. I knew he heard me so I asked him again. He twirled around, so angrily, and yelled, "Oh for goodness sake no no NO I'M NOT LEAVING."

My baby was crying from hunger, I wanted to show my six year old a good time, my husband was home shaving his head because his hair had fallen out so unevenly. And this fuckwit yells at me.

I dealt with it in the appropriate manner, and tried to run him over with my car. I swear, no shit .... I was blinded by a fury so intense that I sped up and lurched at him, grazing him slightly. He was so, so shocked. I drove past, screaming profanity and curses (because I am an awesome mother).

After I eventually found a park I breastfed in public and dared any strange stares to come my way. Then I paid a small fortune keeping Max busy on the jumping castle, clowns, and horses. It was such a lonely day. I drove home and primed Max, told him daddy is going to have no hair. He was so scared to see him that he didn't want to get out of the car.

Oh, those were fun times!

This Winter Magic, we all climbed in Daves ute, ready to show Rocco his first parade. There's nothing worse than trying to push a pram through a crowd of people, so we took the sling that my lovely friend Tam lent me, and hoped he still fit in it.

He did .... I crammed him in there like a frickin' origami goose. Dave was hanging to wear it - is there nothing sexier than a big tough guy carrying a baby in a sling???

Rocco kept looking down at his legs, incredulous and running in the air -

No scary bald Daddy for Max this year -

I LOVE this picture -

Just before the Heavens opened -

And this. This photo makes me emotional ... no bald, no sick no chemo. Standing proud and tall. As soon as I snapped this pic, I knew I would add it to Lori's Perfect Moment Monday -

We still couldn't find a car park ... but, Dave had his trusty ute that he drove up over some mulberry bushes and parked at an almost 90 degree angle -

We were all laughing so hard.
Me: "Hey Max, remember when we tried to find a car park last year!?"
Max: "Yeahhhhh .... and you nearly drove over that guy!"
Dave: (Alarmed) "What??"
Me: "Nothing."
Max: "Oh man he was so scared. Mum went CRAZY, Dad!"

Dave looks at me, knowing he will never really know what happened.