The helpless blog of a first time dad: Our first father-daughter talk left us both frowning

12 weeks old and already our Genius Child likes relaxing in the chair and a reading a big book

THE biggest misconception I had about babies prior to owning one is that they don’t do anything for the first 12 weeks of their lives.

I order of time consumption I thought they just slept, fed and pooped and that would be about it.

But from her very earliest days Sophia would lie awake for hours at a time taking in the world around her – and she never seems overly impressed with what she sees.

I doubt it’s unique to Sophia but she’s my daughter so I like to think it is, but she has been blessed with a very expressive face.

So there’s not a minute that goes by where she doesn’t seem to be communicating with my wife and I through a frown, a smile, a wide-eyed look of shock (that’s very funny) and, least expected of all from a 12-week-old, a rather judgemental raising of the eyebrows.

Maybe I’m crediting her with too much intelligence – but again, she’s my daughter so I think not – but Sophia does appear to possess the ability to say “what the bloody hell are you doing now?” with a wrinkling of her forehead and pushing her eyebrows skywards.

As a result of all this facial movement absolutely nothing gets done in our house any more as we spend Sophia’s entire waking hours transfixed by her features. We’re nearly down to our last fork and spoon.

We hold entire conversations with her based on these expressions that, if you actually stepped back and listened to yourself for a moment would probably make you cringe. So that’s what I did.

On Saturday morning I wanted to give my wife some rest having got up twice in the night so I took Sophia downstairs while she had a lie-in. And I recorded our conversation.

“I’m just going to turn the television on to watch yesterday’s golf highlights,” I told her unnecessarily.

(Facial expression: Frown)

“What do you mean, `I’m always watching sport?’ I just want to check on who’s leading.”

(A cooing noise)

“Yes, then you can have Baby TV on after.”

(A more excited cooing noise)

“No, you’re not watching Saturday Morning Kitchen (the programme that was on as the television came on). You’ve got mummy’s milk for the next three months and then a diet of broccoli and carrots. How’s James Martin going to juzz that up?”

(Smile)

“Yes that’s right. You like mummy’s milk, don’t you?”

I then strapped Sophia into her bouncy chair, placed her in front of the TV and let her watch a bit of the golf while I went to put two crumpets in the toaster.

(A minute and a half later, a sort of cough-cum-cry noise)

“OK, OK, I’m coming.”

(A look that said “I’m telling mummy”)

“I just wanted to get something to eat and then we’ll play.”

(A deeper frown that said “You’re a bad parent. First of all your breasts don’t work every time I try and suck on them and now this.”)

“Don’t you have so much of it young lady. You should think yourself lucky you even have a widescreen television and a bouncy to sit in front of it in. There are babies around the world whose daddies can’t afford such luxuries.”

Twelve weeks old and I’m already resorting to lectures on socialism!

In the end I got so fed up with the judgemental frowns and cough cries that I took her upstairs, woke my wife and told my her “I think she wants feeding,” which is basically get out clause if I want to watch something on telly or read a paper and Sophia is wide awake and wanting constant attention.

My wife does hold similar conversations but as someone with more shared interests (my wife loves Baby TV) hers seem a lot less fraught. In the battle for being able to get a grin out of Sophia, and let’s be honest about this, it is a battle to be the most popular parent with your baby, Hannah is winning by a smile.

As a teacher, she is also very keen to make sure every facet of her day is as educational as it can be. She wouldn’t sit her in front of the golf and hope the colour green and whooping from the crowd might keep her quiet for half an hour.

As part of this process she has already started reading to her but there are signs that Sophia may in fact want to follow in her father’s footsteps as a film and TV reviewer.

Hannah read her the story of Great BigHoo from the Twirlywoos. There were some plot holes if I’m honest but I thought I’d keep my opinion to myself but on my wife finishing the story and closing the book, Sophia frowned to suggest she was disappointed with the ending and discharged an incredibly audible poo.

I think we’ve got another critic in the family.

The helpless blog of a first time dad: Hectic paternity leave was no holiday