Went to a leaving do this evening for Clare in Hammersmith. Loads of the old-skool AOLers were there, and I guess through the power of Facebook (or gossip, I'd say the chance is 50-50 there), they were all agog with the news of my impending fatherhood.
Between dodgy half-priced cocktails we discussed all the usual that I've been discussing with people who've just found out. "Yes, my boys work" (ha ha), "yeah, we kinda know the sex", "yes we have a name" (don't really care that your annoying landlady shares it, never met her) and "yes we're both excited".
I'm finding that, interestingly, the more of these types of conversations I have, the more the birth of our child is becoming like those conversations you have where you reminisce about a holiday you've taken ("yeah, it was warm", "yes, we ate at wonderful restaurants"). You end up reliving the actual conversations more than remembering the holidays.
It's good baby-wise though, as it DOES make me continue to focus on the matter at hand. Of course, when the baby does actually arrive, the repeated conversations will take on a new slant.
