THE TWO BOYS’ CLUB

I was never particularly maternal. The whole idea of waddling and sweating for 9 months did just not appeal, not to mention the obvious design fault that requires women to push something the size of a watermelon out of their body, through an opening clearly not designed for the purpose. In addition there was no guarantee the product would be what you ordered. I wasn’t too hung up on what gender it would be (though a girl might have been nice), but would it be bright, beautiful and sleep through the night almost immediately – apparently not in most cases. As far as I was concerned, as a concept it was deeply flawed and you could keep it.

Sadly Robert shared none of my reservations, largely because the logistics of it would make not a blind bit of difference to him – no waddling or sweating (well no more sweating than usual anyway), no uncomfortable birthing process (though he did complain like mad that the slippers he had to wear during Alex’s delivery were terribly uncomfortable) and as we all know he can sleep through pretty much anything.

I managed to be far too busy to contemplate motherhood for over 5 years post wedding, to the point that my aging grandmother started mentioning the wonders of IVF every time she saw me. Then we arrived in Tokyo where I had a dependant visa only and wasn’t allowed to work. I was left to my own devices all week and we all know how good I am with solitude. I had way too much me time and needed a project, perhaps I should have taken up calligraphy, but somehow Robert managed to convince me that children were the way forward.

What was I thinking? Under-qualified for the job doesn’t begin to cover it. I have even had a receptionist at Stoke Mandeville Hospital tell me I am a terrible mother (couldn’t she just have thought it and not said it out loud), something Alex likes to remind me of on a fairly regular basis.

Anyway, one way or another, they haven’t starved (probably because Robert is largely in charge of catering) and apart from one early brush with death (not my fault – sometimes shit just happens), they seem to have grown into fine, upstanding (most of the time – see above) young men. They are probably as different from one another as they could be, but when I look at them now, it takes my breath away. Proof that even if you have no idea what you’re doing, sometimes things still turn out right.