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Rosie is home.

Whooping cough

Rosie Zita unfortunately is lying in a cot beside me in Cork University Hospital. She has whooping cough. Easily the scariest thing I have ever experienced is Rosie coughing until her face turns blue and all her breathing stops. She has been at this for the last ten days, so 4 doctor visits and a swab later we find ourselves in isolation in the children’s ward. They call it the 100 day cough, I hope not. She has had her shots for it but I am told they don’t all become fully effective until her third shots have been taken. And we have to get penicillened up also as we are dangerous potential spreaders of it. Anyway fingers crossed we will all go home in a few days once the doctors say she is out of any danger. They never said this parenting thing was going to be easy but, touch wood, she hasn’t got anything really bad. Now back to the blog I’ve been sort of half writing on and off for the last while.

Alphies current obsession is with tractors, diggers and all other 4 wheel vehicles. Interestingly I expect he won’t learn colour names he’ll just say blue is Ford, green is John Deere and red is Massey Fergusen. All big animals are horses, he doesn’t discriminate between cows or donkeys they all get greeted with “clip clop clip clop” type noise. On the speaking front no huge linguistic bounds have been made. Danielle and I are a catch all “MaDa”, he has a few other words like “Bye” and “oh dear”. But as of yet no engagement in any meaningful way. That is not to say he’s quiet, there is a non-stop commentary going on in Alphie speak. I do know that his MaDa will have to watch their liberal use of colourful language, I would hate if his first sentence was peppered with shit, if you know what I mean.

Right back to baby watch, we are doing a daily swap on the hospital, Danielle did last night, she looked shattered when I came in.
Alphie also has a cold but is on the mend, last night he and I stayed up late looking at Cars2 . Lots of vroom vroom noises, excellent.

Cork, the big move and a haircut.

One month in to our adventure in Cork and we are beginning to see light at the end of the unpacking tunnel. The bulkiest thing we had to move, clothes; more specifically, Alphie and Rosie’s. Second bulkiest: toys. How one little boy can amass so many toys in such a short lifetime I have no idea. I wouldn’t mind so much if he played with them a lot, they only really get ‘My’ time when other children come to visit, then all of a sudden they are all his and each need his and onlyhis individual attention.

The move to Cork was, as I am sure all those who have done the house moving with kids thing knows, very stressful and tiring. Alphie has seemed to take it all very much in his stride. He now has his Gran on tap and is fast becoming Granddad’s number one fan. It won’t be long before he is following Granddad around and ‘helping’ him with all the Bob the builder work.

Apart from friends and the other O’Tooles of course, what we miss about Dun Laoghaire is the park and playground being within walking distance. Here we are a bit out in the sticks, but Alphie is getting used to having to take car journeys to get places. In fact, he used to think car journeys meant ending up in IKEA or Carrickmines but is now enjoying going to the beach or the swimming pool or the playgroup and next week he may be going to his first crèche for one or two mornings a week.

Having stopped working for the present and being a full time Dad. I yet again step back in awe at my mother and what she did for us. Hands down looking after two young ones full time is the hardest job I’ve ever had this despite the fact that there are two of us, plus grandparents as back up. We still find it really hard to find time to do anything, as can be evidenced by how long it’s been since my last blog.

Alphie has curbed his suicidal tendencies to one major bump a day. The child proofing of the cottage continues to keep pace with his head’s ability to discover new ‘objects d’bang’. Speaking of which, a momentous day in Alphonsus’ life so far, on a recent visit to B&Q in Cork he had his haircut, not at B&Q I might add but next door in Mothercare. So we now no longer have a baby with blond ringlets we have a proper little boy with short back and sides. My offers at cutting his hair were met with a grand ignoring so instead of looking like we all did at that age, with a big upturned bowl of hair sitting ont op of our ears, Alphie has a proper layered cut, it cost more than mine to cut! He’s getting the pudding bowl the next time.

Rosie is doing fantastically; she passes all the tests that they throw at premmie new-borns with flying colours, coming in at around  8lbs at her last weigh in. She is fast becoming my favourite, well my favourite girl anyway. (always wise to future proof blogs against any “what did you mean by this” accusations) but at the moment she is J. I can’t quite believe she is now over 4 and a half months old. Alphie is looking forward to his Godfather coming down to visit for the Easter weekend, as is his dad who has liberated his golf clubs from their 4 year sabbatical under the stairs. Look out the innocent turf and rough of Dunmore Golf Course  hacker on the way!

Top ten tips (more) specifically for new or newish Dads

On the eve of turning 48, the new dad at 47 realised the problem with the title. But feck it, it’ll be grand! that’s what the past simple is for. So on with the tips. 

Rosie Zita Catherine O’Toole

Yet again in no particular order.

1. It is not your partners fault even if it is. She is just as tired as you and has managed to keep from sniping at you for every little thing that goes wrong, so try to do the same. Tiredness is a bastard, this is much more than the weekend clubbing and getting messy tiredness, this is a creeping, paint the bridge, never ending story type debilitation. I refer you back to the previous list; Grannys are sent by God to give you a sleep in once in a while.

2. The middle of the night feed is not a bad thing to volunteer for. I just enjoy being with my new daughter on my own with no distractions for an hour or so, not to mention being able to watch uninterrupted telly for an hour or so, God bless being able to record MOTD

3. I’ve said it before, if you wear a Northface jacket and instead of talking quietly with your child, you shout your conversation for all to hear what a great Dad you are, then you are a prick. You know who you are.

4. Buggies do not give us the right of way, even though we think they should. 

5. Unless it’s really expensive, choose the line of least resistance when wondering why we need another blanket, toy or pair of the ‘cutest’ jeans.

before and after

6. Say goodbye to clothes that do not have snot or barf on them. You are a walking handkerchief and/or runway for landing vomit jets. On the subject of clothes, I am now in a trouser-purchasing quandary. Should I resign myself to my current, frankly plump, figure and buy the big pants or is there any hope of returning to a svelte 32, even 34 waist? This isn’t really a tip, more of a sad wishful cry for reassurance.

7. Try to make some time for yourself, baby’s nap time is usually filled with lots of ‘need to dos’, so it doesn’t really count. Take any opportunity to revel in zen like infecundity.  Dart journeys are now no longer times to get annoyed by ‘yutes’ with their feet on seat, mind numbing conversation, and overly loud earphones. They are oases of tranquil do-nothingness. Crank up your headphones, and adopt the blank stare out the window of a sleepless dad.

8. Patience is all it is cracked up to be virtue wise.

9. X factor, the Late Late, soaps and any celebrity shite, is still just that and it is not ok to watch them. Just because you are a captive to your house does not mean you have a licence to watch mind numbing crap on TV. And Michael McIntyre is an annoying twat, if you feel otherwise you have been lost to middle age mediocrity.

10. Go for walks, go to the park, walk the pier – eat out once in a blue one even if it’s a pain to organise and execute. 

That’s it, nothing earth shattering or new just what was on my mind and I put it into a list, ‘cause sky tv tells me it’s what people like :@)

Granny, Alphie and Rosie

Top 10 tips

I was chatting with Danielle and we cobbled together our top ten list of tips after one and a bit years of Alphie. Please feel free to add any of your own into the comment box at the bottom. So in no particular order:


• 10. Baby led weaning is the business. The key is to not give up because it really pays dividends. Alphie now eats whatever we are eating, feeds himself and then plays the piano while we sip liqueurs. 


• 9. Product endorsement time, without payment, but pretty much any thing Baby Bjorn makes is great. This is the ‘Classic’ baby carrier.

• 8. Don’t waste money on eco cotton nappies like the bambino mio, they are literally shite, and you will end up with pampers




• 7. Give your son a long name for emphasis when giving out. 


‘AL – PHON – SUS – O – TOOLE  ah! Ah! Ah! Don’t touch that!’ 


being shouted is a lot more effective and satisfying than any nambi pambi one or two syllable name. 


• 6. More product stuff, I have tried pushing other buggies, we now have a Phil&Teds one up one down Dash (thank you Ian) but none can compare with the Bugaboo. It is like pushing air compared to the Phil&Ted yoke. The Bugaboo is seriously expensive but if you can swing it they are the bees pyjamas and the cats knees. And most importantly they look cool, even if the pushers do not.

• 5. Don’t follow any particular ‘guru’ like Gina Ford or the like, take the best advice from all the books as it pertains to your child. Now that No.2 is here I can safely confirm they are all very different. Common sense is as billed 


• 4. When looking for somewhere to live if you are moving to fit your expanding family, try to be walking distance from a park with a playground, a chemist, a decent supermarket and Dun Laoghaire Pier if possible. But the playground is essential, just to be able to walk down to somewhere without the military operation that is packing the car is a sanity saver.


• 3. If your newbie hasn’t got a Granny, then steal someone else’s.

• 2. Say yes to any offers of clothes, help, babysitting, dinners, massages and or backrubs. The longer you can avoid having to clothe them the better, it’s going to be bloody expensive enough once they stop being cute and want the latest runners or arse dragging on the ground jeans, so say yes please to all stuff. It’s basically a pay it forward deal, you give your best stuff on to someone else once yours have out grown it and so on. 


• 1. Stop and enjoy it as often as possible. Even at my most tired, pulling baby barf out of my hair, everyone down with a cold, from colic to teething to whatever the next thing is, it is still better than anything I have ever done before and beats the shite out of not being a Dad at 47. 

When Alphie met Rosie

The look of absolute ecstasy on Alphie’s face was only matched by his Snoopy dance of joy at the summit. This is an obvious writing ploy designed to catch your interest and make you read to the end, no skipping now.

The good nurses at Holles Street Maternity Hospital got Rosie into a regular feeding and sleeping schedule, Gina Ford would be proud of our daughter’s regime. We couldn’t possibly mess that up, could we? Give us time and we can achieve anything.

Brought Alphie down to the ‘break your wallet’ market in The Peoples Park this morning, met a friend, his wife and their little girl, as you do.  Apart from recommending an excellent chutney which I subsequently bought, conversation turned to babies and the like, as it does. So Alphie’s teething came up and they suggested wearing an amber necklace to counteract the effect. Now I am as cynical as the next man when it comes to alternative stuff, but they swear by it. So we might give it a go once I look up the science behind it.

Alphie has now met his little sister and is studiously ignoring her with a single mindedness that is admirable. He knows that there is something up but is successfully avoiding dealing with it and concentrating on the more important things in his life, namely himself, an Irish male is after all an Irish male.

Rosie is doing brilliantly, she is now 7 weeks and two days old and weighs just over two kilos, so that’s nearly 2 months old and nearly 5 lbs for those of us that don’t speak either baby or metric.

First it was the coffee table but now he has learnt Northface route up a bigger challange. There is nothing quite as funny or scary as turning your back for two seconds then spinning round to see Alphie grinning demonically while dancing a jig at the mahogany summit of our dining room table and then backwards walking towards the edge….. Jebus, I hope girls are a little more sedate.

Anyway here are a few photos to be going on with, as I am sure that’s what people really look at this blog for any way. :@)

Rosie is coming home…

..…on Sunday. Baton down the hatches, sluice out the galley, take out Alphie’s first crib and toothbrush the grouting in the bathroom, ( I am told). 

Now I thought we did a lot of washing with one baby, it’s not even in the ha’penny place compared to how much washing we are doing now: seat covers, blankets, woolies, cottons mitts. All this washing is only matched by how much Granny “Vintage” Rosie is knitting. As I write, a brand new pair of tiny woollen gloves are winging their way into Holles St. Hospital. 


Above is the first public appearance of Rosie Zita Catherine O’Toole in what Daddy hopes will be her preferred manner of deportment, asleep.


Alphie’s molars are coming down at the moment, whatever designed man did a pretty bang up job, but they seriously f*&ked up the teeth bit. Their arrival is agonising, they have barely made their first uniformed smile when they fall out for replacements and then we spend the rest of our lives and a deal of money sending dentists on expensive holidays. 
Anyway, if Alph thinks he is miserable at the moment, just wait ’til his sister comes home. 


 A bit tired to really bore you with any more, so here are a few more photos of Rosie. 

Alphonsus O’Toole and the Puddle of Destiny – The Trailer and now the movie too!

The actual movie is a bit of a let down ………..

My New Daughter Rosie arrived early

Our daughter was born at 3pm Friday the 21st of October, exactly one year two weeks after Alphie made his appearance. Unlike Alphie though, Rosie’s entry into the world was a little more hard core. 

Danielle woke up with cramps, which later turned out to have been contractions, but since we had been having such a difficult pregnancy up to this point we were reasonably relaxed about it.  We both just assumed this would be another fruitless trip into National Maternity Hospital, Holles Street, another frustrating couple of hours waiting around to be be sent home, another “you were right to come in, but there’s nothing we can do, it will ease off and we’ll see you for your next scan on December the 10th”

So we asked my brother Shane to bring her in, while I looked after Alphie.

The next hour or so is not one any of us would like to experience again. It with a phone call from Shane to say Danielle had been taken to surgery, my other brother coming to mind Alphie, a mad rush to the hospital, a c-section, an uncle with a dinner story, a beautiful little girl, an incredible doctor and nursing staff, a wife in recovery and a husband that missed the entire thing.

They apparently moved with incredible speed when Dan arrived. Shane describes it as like being in an episode of casualty in 3D with full sense-surround. Danielle describes it a little differently. I was disappointed not to be there to hold her hand, but not at all upset about missing the ‘Caesar’, I am quite happy not to have that one in the memory bank. 

Rosie Zita Catherine was whisked away to the ICU where she was put on all sorts of monitors, and breathing enablers. Needless to say they really know their stuff and are doing a brilliant job of caring for her. 

She came in at a tiny 2lbs 8ozs. which, I am told, is a great weight for a 28 week old baby. I am also assured and reassured that premature girls are much better fighters than boys. We have been warned about all possible outcomes but are, fingers crossed, hoping Rosie can come home and meet her little brother for Christmas. 

It is now one week later. Alphie and Rosie’s Granny ‘Vintage  Rosie’ as she now wishes to be addressed, was up for the week and has been brilliantly helpful, we could not have done without her.
Danielle came out of hospital on Tuesday and is doing fantastically. She is in the hospital now hopefully holding her daughter. Rosie has graduated from ICU 1 to ICU 2 has most of the tubes and lines are out and she is breathing unassisted. 

It’s way to early to celebrate and I am sure there will be ups and downs but for the moment, touch wood, fingers crossed, I am the hugely proud new dad at 47 of two. 

Alphie aged one, bits of the trip so far.

My first attempt at video editing, I’ll do better the next time.