Thursday, June 22, 2006

Day 79 - The Bastard Love Child of Mr Bean

I had a slight anxiety attack the other day. Well, not a proper one, but I suppose it was more like a bad thought that sent a chill up my spine.

I am, I think it's fair to say, a bit of a klutz. I am not a terribly well coordinated or graceful person. If I were an ironic superhero, I would be 'Self Awareness Boy'. The other day, I walked into the study and was jerked backwards accompanied by an unpleasant sound of straining seams popping. I had managed to get the door handle inserted up my short sleeve as I passed. Well done, Self Awareness Boy - excellent understanding of your immediate spatial environment there.

I'm probably over-emphasising a little for effect, but no one who knows me would deny I'm a little prone to being clumsy.

So, I had this thought and it was as a result of the sleeve/door interface. The entirely unwanted thought popped into my head; what if I walked through a door carrying my new child and smacked the baby's head on the door frame because I wasn't totally in sync with my environment and where I was in it? It was one of those ultra vivid thoughts and I could hear the smack of the baby's head as it hit and it made me feel decidedly uneasy.

Some people will try and insist that being clumsy is a deliberate thing and that it can be controlled, but unless I'm very much mistaken, spatial awareness is an unconscious thing. Most people do not have to think about the mechanics of walking through a door any more consciously than they think about the mechanics of chewing when they've got a gobful of food.

It is now known that after their child is born, men experience lower levels of testosterone and higher levels of oestrogen and it is believed that this is to calm the man down and make him less of a danger to his offspring. I suppose that I'm rather hoping that once the baby is born, I will naturally be more aware of the spatial environment - if not of mine own, at least of the baby's so that I won't walk through a door and smack its head off a door frame. It was really upsetting just as a thought. The reality would be totally horrific.

I don't imagine this will come to pass, I'm not that worried; it was a mad thought that popped into my brain for a second or two and it certainly doesn't have any foreshadowing capabilities. I've held quite a few babies before, and never dropped one, never hurt one, never had a problem, so I'd like to assure K___ I will be taking the utmost care, both consciously and hopefully unconsciously.

Perhaps the mad thought is just my responsibilities asserting themselves..? I'd be interested to know if any other parents have experienced similar moments of anxiety.

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