Chris Cox: New Dad Diary and Best Buys

Mama's resident TV magician and new dad celebrates his new arrival

Words Chris Cox

With our baby in a sling, we attempt to move the coffee table to what is the actual centre of the room. Not what I considered to be the centre of the room. We reposition it and admire our efforts. We’ve just moved house with a six-week-old baby, who is now fast asleep in the carrier while we empty boxes. We are nailing this parenting lark. We sit on the floor of our new lounge, resting for a moment, wishing we’d ordered a new sofa earlier. Then my wife pipes up, ‘That table still isn’t in the centre.’

Now the first few weeks have turned into months we’re starting to understand our Little Cox, getting more in sync with her and every day falling in love all over again. I’m used to making thousands of people in theatres smile and laugh when I’m on stage, but that is simply nothing compared to the pride that burst from my body when I got my first smile from our baby. I didn’t even have to use any of my best jokes, just bouncing her up and down on my knee did the trick.

There’s never a good time to move house, and doing it with a brand new little person is as bad a time as any. Luckily we got a Izmi Baby Carrier, which has been perfect for going hands-free. Our Little Cox loves the closeness of being next to us and falls asleep almost instantly when she’s in it, giving us time to sort out boxes and work out whether we should keep any DVDs or just bin them as they’ll be useless by the time she’s old enough to watch them. We decided to keep the Disney ones. At the very least they can be used as coasters for the coffee table, which is now in the middle of the room.

As soon as we moved in, we stuck a list of jobs on the fridge. As visitors arrived and asked if there was anything they could do to help, we directed them to the list while we watched TV. A weird thing that’s happened since becoming a dad – it’s ruined “You’ve Been Framed”. Where I used to find myself belly laughing at kids falling over I now find myself wincing and hoping the kid is alright. Fortunately, adults falling over is still as funny as ever. Although my wife didn’t seem to agree when she tripped over an empty roll of packing tape.

We’re now starting to think about the future, getting some sense of normality back. Before Little Cox arrived we would go to the theatre about twice a week, but we’ve not really been since then. However, we have Hamilton tickets for a few weeks time which means it’s time to start attempting to introduce a bottle of expressed milk. My wife has taken to using the Medela Double Breast Pump which is an incredible little contraption, quickly and (I’m told)painlessly getting the milk out into one bottles designed to not interfere with breastfeeding. As she expresses I get bonus Daddy time with Little Cox, who has become fascinated with my made-up songs about what she’s doing. “Baby’s wriggling her legs” is a big hit in our house.

So it’s now time for me to commence the battle of the bottle. Little Cox loves nothing better than being on the boob, but her parents very much want to see Hamilton. If we can get her to happily take one bottle then it buys us just enough time to see a show, but at the minute she is having none of it. The battle of wills continues. I play with the bottle in her mouth, she takes a little, realises it’s not the boob and kicks up an almighty fuss. I settle her and we start the battle again. Every day it gets a little easier, she takes a little more milk and we inch closer to getting a tiny bit of our life back. Soon we’ll be able to leave her for while with parents. But then we look at her and wonder, how can we even leave her for a second? She’s more entertaining than any piece of theatre. I’d pay to see her every single day. And those tickets are much easier to get than Hamilton ones.