Camille pointed out to me that major sporting events like the Olympics came around more often than my blog posts. That hurt. It was also beginning to have more than a faint whiff of truth about it. So I've sucked in my post-dinner belly and shut the dog in the lounge; its time to polish a glass and pour out the inner thoughts of Khandallah's newest attraction, the stay-at-home Dad. Please, rest awhile and drink well.

Before I pop the cork as it were, some big news. HUGE, fact. Camille is very pregnant with our second child! If you don't know this already my sincerest apologies; new jobs, new city etc etc. Anyway, the pregnancy. 15 weeks pretty much today. The defining characteristic of this, our second impending miracle, is sickness. I can't say morning sickness as that does a disservice to afternoons, evenings and night times all of which are equally deserving in the sickness honour roll. My poor wife, she musters up enough energy to sound chirpy on the radio for 4 hours a day and spends the other 20 sleeping, eating (although not as much as we're led to believe) or lying on the couch. Thanks to a hefty supply of anti nausea pills and those nifty bands you put on your wrist to combat sea sickness the trips to the loo are abating. Michel, our Swiss obstetrician is confident Camille's fortunes (and stamina) will improve. Fingers and toes crossed huh? James, darling ebullient, jumping James, when told of the baby in Mummy's tummy said "Oh? Nice baby..", patted Camille's belly and went back to his Play-Doh.

Ah James. The apple of my eye. And, if I were to be completely literal, my job now. If I may say so myself one that I have taken to with much gusto. The last few weeks were preoccupied with setting up the family home; we found somewhere to live, unpacked all the boxes and connected all the amenities. Those weeks also saw us visited by nearest and dearest; visits that were vastly appreciated I might add. Such emotional stability as provided by family and friends comes in uber-handy when you've chucked in your job and moved away from the only city you've ever lived in. Thanks everyone for dropping by. So, visiting hours over and household framework nailed together the last couple of weeks have been spent bravely exploring new frontiers; father and son on a mission to...make friends. I've been helped in this mission by James almost daily uttering of the sentence "...and I'm going to go to kindy...and meet some new boys and girls and kids and ladies..." Quite.

Driving me is a desire to see James play with children his own age. As easy as it would be to sit home and watch Curious George or The Wiggly Christmas every day I don't want James growing up to be one of those children junk food legislation is aimed at. As for me making new friends, I am haunted by an early episode of Seinfeld when Jerry makes a new friend, a pro baseball player. Jerry is, predicatably, conflicted by this new friendship - who makes new friends when you're an adult? It feels weird. Neurotic perhaps but for better or for worse Sienfeld has left its mark on my own neuroses. To heck with it - I had to get out there and mingle with the Khandallah Mothers Scene if only for James' health and well-being. I am happy to report that it has, so far, been a total success. Just today we attended our first playgroup; a 2 hour session for parents to throw their offspring into a child friendly environment; toys toys toys, playgrounds, painting you name it. And mothers. Wall to wall mothers. Was I daunted? Yes. Was I overwhelmed? Definitely. Did James take to it like ducks to the wet stuff? You betcha. And I followed. I had no choice really. And how did it end? We were the last to leave and I'm not sure who dragged who back home - we both had a great time. To slather icing on an already sweeeet cake, we had our neighbour round for afternoon tea today, Helen and her 18 month old Lily. James and I met Helen and Lily in the park (as you do) and quickly ascertained that we a) both knew no one here and b) lived on the same street. Brilliant! I'll let Camille have the last word on this visit: "They were nice! You're allowed to hang out with them." Thanks my darling.