The Hazards of a Home life.
Many moons ago, when I was a healthy young lad (don't laugh, I used to be) I, like many others, took great enjoyment out of sport. Whether it be football, rugby, cricket or basketball (told you, well healthy) many a day and evening was passed in the resplendent nature of physical activity. Hours would fly by, fun would be had and never the next day did it hurt getting out of bed. As the years pass you cut down the number of sports played, in some cases added new, more sedate, activities (golf anyone, again don't laugh it's a sport!) but still the joy of playing never dwindled.
Then, out of nowhere, middle age arrives. 11 aside sports are replaced by 6 aside and touch only replaces the full on brutality you were used to. But still, a high enough level of enjoyment is achieved to make the next morning pains seem worthwhile. Then a few more years pass and you know what? Not worth it anymore. The get together with friends is enjoyable, but do you really need to see them EVERY week? That accidental knock you took 2 weeks ago is still there and you know you haven't really pulled a muscle but by golly that leg still hurts. The other half is bored listening to your crumbles and your children are beginning to think you're as old as their Grandfather. You still participate in the more sedate sports (Golf IS a real sport) and will occasionally don the old trainers for a rare kick about, but all in all the halcyon days are well and truly in the past.
Now I say all this not to relive the glory days of old (again, stop laughing, there were some) but to bring to your attention the new physical dangers I put myself through. All you stay at home parents can skip this bit, as I'm sure we share the same tales, but the rest of you read on.
I played competitive sport for many years with the accompanying number of injuries you'd expect, but in the years since becoming a house dad I have been put out of action more than I ever was then. The dangers of being a house husband are not something you consider when first embarking on the role, but let me tell you, they exist. Cupboard doors open by themselves, ready for a head to be scalped, honestly check out the photo, there used to be hair there, bare feet ruined by a never ending list of obstacles. Trust me, it's not just lego, dolls brushes, toy cars, train tracks, they all hurt. I've lost count of the amount of lead my body has absorbed due to stray pencils and don't get me started on the damage that is caused once sewing and knitting has been taken up as a hobby.
Not that long ago I broke a rib. How I wish I could tell you it was the result of some sporting heroics but alas no. Putting on a sock. That's right, a sock accident. The untimely arrival of one of the offspring led to a loss of balance whilst adorning the said item, 2 days later I'm in A&E (hospital to the non Brits) unable to breath due to a broken rib. Recently, a slipped disc. This one down to tripping over the corner of the sofa. I know these may appear petty to the young and uninitiated, but they hurt non the less. Playing sport, you expect the odd bump and bruise, you know there is a danger of a broken bone or two, but nobody warned me of the hazards of being a stay at home dad.
Then, out of nowhere, middle age arrives. 11 aside sports are replaced by 6 aside and touch only replaces the full on brutality you were used to. But still, a high enough level of enjoyment is achieved to make the next morning pains seem worthwhile. Then a few more years pass and you know what? Not worth it anymore. The get together with friends is enjoyable, but do you really need to see them EVERY week? That accidental knock you took 2 weeks ago is still there and you know you haven't really pulled a muscle but by golly that leg still hurts. The other half is bored listening to your crumbles and your children are beginning to think you're as old as their Grandfather. You still participate in the more sedate sports (Golf IS a real sport) and will occasionally don the old trainers for a rare kick about, but all in all the halcyon days are well and truly in the past.
Now I say all this not to relive the glory days of old (again, stop laughing, there were some) but to bring to your attention the new physical dangers I put myself through. All you stay at home parents can skip this bit, as I'm sure we share the same tales, but the rest of you read on.
I played competitive sport for many years with the accompanying number of injuries you'd expect, but in the years since becoming a house dad I have been put out of action more than I ever was then. The dangers of being a house husband are not something you consider when first embarking on the role, but let me tell you, they exist. Cupboard doors open by themselves, ready for a head to be scalped, honestly check out the photo, there used to be hair there, bare feet ruined by a never ending list of obstacles. Trust me, it's not just lego, dolls brushes, toy cars, train tracks, they all hurt. I've lost count of the amount of lead my body has absorbed due to stray pencils and don't get me started on the damage that is caused once sewing and knitting has been taken up as a hobby.
Not that long ago I broke a rib. How I wish I could tell you it was the result of some sporting heroics but alas no. Putting on a sock. That's right, a sock accident. The untimely arrival of one of the offspring led to a loss of balance whilst adorning the said item, 2 days later I'm in A&E (hospital to the non Brits) unable to breath due to a broken rib. Recently, a slipped disc. This one down to tripping over the corner of the sofa. I know these may appear petty to the young and uninitiated, but they hurt non the less. Playing sport, you expect the odd bump and bruise, you know there is a danger of a broken bone or two, but nobody warned me of the hazards of being a stay at home dad.
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