A born Gashead

Well, the first five days with Olivia have gone rushing by and I think I've slept about six hours in that time. What with all the feeding - not that I have much to do with that - the nappy changing (which unfortunately I now seem to be responsible for, and paints daddy as the ogre in this picture of family bliss) and cooking, washing and looking after my convalescing wife it has been pretty busy to say the least.
We have had some lovely moments with our new baby daughter, but others have been a bit traumatic. She managed to headbut me on the chin while changing her - not a pleasant experience for either of us - and there was also the great water disaster, where I managed to whip the nappy off just in time for her to empty the contents of her bladder. Ah, such is life.
The worst episode came last night, however. It has been extremely hot and little Livvy doesn't take much to the heat. Like most of us she because a bit hot and bothered.
By about 9pm she had worked herself into a right tiz, and rather than watch the remaining minutes of the Spain v Chile World Cup group qualifier I was given the duty of calming her down.
Well, I've found the car seat is an excellent invention, even when it's not in the car. She likes the security of being strapped in, I believe, but on this occasion even that didn't work.
Time for a nice drive then to put her in a better state of mind. I drove about three miles but the screaming failed to abait. Time, then, for a song. And being a Gashead it seemed only right that Goodnight Irene deserved an airing.
I started singing it with gusto, but changed the words to Goodnight Livvy, and made up a couple of verses, too. Lo and behold, somehow she settled down.
Unfortunately there comes a time when you have to whip her out of the car and back into the house. How to do it?
Well, I continued singing for 20 minutes in the stationery car, then gently removed the seat belt and lifted the car seat out. Then, no doubt to the consternation of my neighbours, I continued to sing outside in the driveway for another good 20 minutes while she found a calm equilibrium.
Getting her back in the house, she was as peaceful as a lamb.
All of this is leading up to a sincere apology to my beautiful daughter. Sorry, love, but even at this tender age you are destined for a lifetime of misery, disappointments and failure. Livvy, once you're a gashead, you're always a gashead.

She is a bit of an outdoor girl, that's for sure. One of the things that can turn her from screaming banshee to serene beauty is putting her in the seat and taking her outside the back door by the allotments. She can hear the traffic roaring down nearby Blackberry Hill and the birds singing away. At that time she seems totally at peace.