Read time: 2 mins.
The benefit, but also the downside, of large family gatherings is that you rarely have a chance to hold your child.
I’ve turned out to be one of those parents who is quite content to pass the baby to anyone and everyone but I did find myself, as we approached the end of the summer of 2026, a little sad.
It had been a long summer filled with many baby visits and most notably large amounts of time spent with the immediate family. My parents were visiting for a couple of weeks, Christine’s parents were visiting for a couple of weeks, we went to France for more weeks, Christine’s parents celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary… and on they went.
Everyone wanted to hold Oliver, and I was happy for everyone to be happy. I enjoyed looking at his cute little face from further away. Christine had a closer relationship with him because, as she was breastfeeding, he was reluctantly and repeatedly handed back to her.
I, on the other hand, had little to no use. The only time my son made his way back to me was after a loud fart. I was the dedicated nappy changer. I have to say I adored the role because it gave me 5 minutes of (almost) uninterrupted time with my son.
As Autumn made it’s wet arrival and the leaves slowly started to fall from the trees — the visits too started to slow. Suddenly I was lugging around an 8kg baby everywhere I went, and spending hours of uninterrupted time playing during our 6 a.m. club daily meet-ups. I treasured it, even when I wished I was sleeping.
As I began work again, and my hours brought into question my life choices. Christine enjoyed some freedom to walk with friends or visit her family. On one such occasion, as her sister changed Oliver’s nappy, she made a cupping motion around his bottom before commenting on how odd it was that two babies can look so different, “my kids have much flatter butts than Oliver.” Now I wonder who he could have got that from.
Super Opa’s 96th birthday was held one late October weekend. I had a workshop during the afternoon so flew home to find Christine and Oliver packed and ready to go.
We arrived late to the party (some would say fashionably) and immediately the boy was whisked off to better cushioning. Christine and I made our rounds to chat with everyone before settling down to enjoy our dinner and wondering where our son had got to.
As if in answer to our question, Christine’s father appeared from around the corner, holding a delighted with himself looking Oliver.
“I think he’s got a full nappy.” He stated. Oliver looked me dead in the eye and gave a gummy grin.
“I doubt that,” Christine said, “Emma just changed him.”
“I’m pretty sure he has gone again then.”
Christine obligingly checked Oliver’s nappy. Oliver meanwhile, one leg in the air like a dog relieving itself, had a suck on Grandad’s coat while eyeing up the leftover ice cream dishes.
“Nope,” Christine confirmed, “it’s clean.”
“Really? But his bottom felt so big.”
At this we both laughed. Christine looked at her father and said, “He’s got a juicy booty. He inherited more than just my good looks, you know.”
