With the ability to post to several 'social networking' websites from your microwave oven I guess the news is out.

Louyn Rowland 'Whitby' Fereday began his demand for the outside world at about 4pm on Friday June 5th, a mission accomplished by 8.45pm that evening.



Louyn Rowland Fereday, nice & easy!!

You may wish to check out the family resemblance, it's quite spooky!!!

I was alerted to the second coming by telephone whilst contemplating an early finish to MY labour. With a quick drop off of the first born to the out-laws, a call to the obstetrician to confirm our rapid departure, we started the discussion of private vs. free. Free won!

Mater Dei Hospital had created a level of fear in the pre-natal classes that was difficult to shake off. The good lady had turned off when the mention of straps and the removal of any free will was mentioned. The reality however was fantastic and I'm now blessed with with a enviable beer fund to wet the baby's head. This of course is personal!

Louyn Rowland was born to the sound of a Nepalese Yoga Soundtrack with a drug free mother and a Father mildly distracted by thoughts of Nepal's other exports. After a quick spell for overnight observation, the good lady decided to 'check out' with the cries of other people's babies still ringing in her sleep deprived ears. Now back at home and getting TheO used to the idea of further family competition (oh dear) with these adventures now well back on the outside!!



The same little lad (mk2) scrubbed up!

Today marked the start of week 40. This seems to be quite annoying as no matter where I go, somebody, somewhere pops out and says 'how's your wife? I of course reply 'very well thank you' They always look a bit taken aback as I move on, REALLY meaning to have asked if the latest addition to the family portfolio had decided to emerge, but were just unsure how to phrase it.

So, no news today. Check back in 20 minutes and it may well have changed.



TheO assumes he's reached his destination!

It's 39 weeks and the good lady is fit to pop. With a rise in the temperature has come a dramatic rise in circumference. The as yet to be expelled seems to be very comfy, although there are strong signs that one long push is all that remains.

The constant complaints of Braxton Hicks 24/7 have left me confused. Is this it or is this not it. I have read up on how to deliver a child from 'in a shopping trolley' to 'in the back seat of a car' and hope that this will not be the way the 'numero duo' begins his time. Would protocol dictate that we have no other recourse but to name the child after some apect of the birthing event or surroundings? A lack of good timing at the local supermarket and we have little 'GS' or baby 'Cheese Counter' as a name.

The very idea of not even making it to a hospital and naming 'he once known as prawn boy' after a Korean automobile seems nightmarish. What would the Malta school bullies call little 'Accent' for short? All of a sudden the idea of 'Castor Oil' and other induction methods seems a good idea, just to be on the safe side. Multiple mothers with multiple children enjoy telling me that 'number two was SO much quicker. (u 2 lu!)

TheO totally oblivious to events other than to demand Chowder and a bowl of jelly!



TheO tries in vain to use the I'll huff and I'll puff inducing method!

I must have been confused. I thought for just a moment I was experiencing that moment in time when everything just gets a little too much. Having now pulled myself together after serious instruction from the good lady, I have had a moment to reflect on the past few weeks and feel many of my recent activities constitute a good reason for the lack of information on the developing family. I feel a little like Jack Nicholson in The Shinning! 'all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy' I think he typed. Musn't grumble I suppose.

Since previous entry I have tried to make a living, watched builders pull down much of the recent irrational purchase, comforted an expectant mother of 38 weeks who speaks little else than 'it's coming' with a look of complicated panic. I ask where is it coming and am told little else other than to prepare the Mastercard.

The little lad amuses himself by insisting the as yet unborn is called after a packet of Prawns and despite some friendly chat, will not budge. Perhaps a middle name.

As the lady of the house clucks and prepares the nest, my responsibility list gets longer! Birth quite possible within the next 23 minutes or so (i'm made to feel), not sure if I have enough time or brain cells to finish that rather nice Chianti and be ready for possible drive to opposite end of Island, but might as well throw caution to the wind. eh!



The young man shortly before falling into the pool.

Having spent a couple of weeks trying to work and getting nothing but hangovers, I returned to the dusty rock from Gatwick to find quite a different situation. The good lady was now (nearly) the size of a Boeing 747 and the youngster seemed to have grown considerably. Not just in size but with speech and understanding. He failed however to understand that Argos had sold out of Wildmutt. Presenting me with the good argument that there is the internet!

It's getting to that nerve-racking period when anything could happen. It still has not been settled where 'Whitby' is to emerge. I'm told that as a cost effective exercise, we will get in the car, drive to the ferry and have the birthing experience in the comfy confines of the Gozo General Hospital. It's only a short distance away. Apparently so is air sea rescue but 'Thunderbirds Are Go' if there on another call! This evening we go to look at another alternative, the C-Section capital of the world, Mater Dei Hospital! It has been suggested that if we go here, there is a possibility of being automatically induced, I wondered to whom!? Actually, I think we're going to have to go private!

TheO is oblivious to it all. If anything, he has become more demanding, perhaps having an slight insight that he may lose a bit of the attention. Anyway, week 33 and the unborn at 2.5 kilo's seems to be having a right old time with visible kicks and general movement form within. TheO very much into the reinvention Ben 10 Alien Force and his recently acquired figures! He currently watches Aliens Vs Monsters and Hotel for Dogs, although obviously I don't have any copies of these!



A happy boy!... who has no idea about the realities of a little brother!

I'm told that having two boys to contend with, is a lot easier than having one. I'm quite sure that I will return to this statement to discuss either from a hospital bed or a secure psychiatric ward awaiting a much deserved lobotomy. Nevertheless, I seem to have entered, and remain in, an energy draining singularity that even Arthur C. Clarke would find mysterious. It would seem that TheO has now reached the age where he appreciates who is in control, and it's sure not his parents. Bedtime has turned into Trampoline time. The only thing he now agrees to wear without a Kung-Fu fight is his Ben 10 costume. It's at this point he'll 'go Four Arms' yes, it gets messy!

In the few remaining moments that are not spent removing 'Bakugan' from my various canals, the good lady and I talk of the new arrival. He (the one temporarily know as Whitby) is now 29 weeks, growing fast and really making his presence known. I know this because I'm back picking everything up off the floor, carrying everything and like his older brother, he has a mean snap kick.

The little lad is currently enjoying Gromiti toys, Watching Quest, Storm Hawks and Johnny Test (in fact anything on Cartoon Network) and eating Omelettes for breakfast. He is looking forward very much to meeting his brother!



My, the concentration...