The Protectorate from afar. As you can see, I did well to secure the site from the throngs of other people using the park that day.
My son had his first birthday party on Saturday, and as is traditional in the lead-up to such milestone events in loved ones' lives, I indulged in a little R & R: rumination and reminiscence.
I had time to think about the year I've had with my wife and little boy because I was engaged in one of the all-time great DadJobs: minding a space at a public venue. We've all had our dads do it for us at some point in our lives, and the vast majority of us just took it for granted as something that dads did.
For my family, it went something like - Five families are going to Carols by Candlelight in the heart of Sydney? No worries! Dad will save us a spot! There are over a quarter of a million people expected in the one small park? Minor detail! Dad can go a little earlier to beat the throngs of other dads all sent out with the same mission! We've all invited two friends, want to bring the dog, mum has prepared a massive Christmas feast and so we're going to need to have approximately one quarter of the whole park saved just for our group of five families, each with two or three kids, each of whom has invited two friends? No dramas! Dad will just have to leave for the park at 3am (for a 6pm start), set up an intricate series of blankets, beach chairs, coolers and a folding table, and then hold the fort for the whole day in the sweltering Australian summer sun. Easy.
Yes, I have taken a further step in experiencing the full gamut of fatherhood experiences by being sent off to the park early to save space. The instructions were that I needed space for twenty to thirty people, near the kids play area, with trees for extra shade, one or two park benches close at hand for extra storage, and if possible, could I please also save a car space so that all the extra supplies coming later could be shipped easily to the acreage I will be saving, which shall henceforth be known as The Protectorate.
I had time to think about the year I've had with my wife and little boy because I was engaged in one of the all-time great DadJobs: minding a space at a public venue. We've all had our dads do it for us at some point in our lives, and the vast majority of us just took it for granted as something that dads did.
For my family, it went something like - Five families are going to Carols by Candlelight in the heart of Sydney? No worries! Dad will save us a spot! There are over a quarter of a million people expected in the one small park? Minor detail! Dad can go a little earlier to beat the throngs of other dads all sent out with the same mission! We've all invited two friends, want to bring the dog, mum has prepared a massive Christmas feast and so we're going to need to have approximately one quarter of the whole park saved just for our group of five families, each with two or three kids, each of whom has invited two friends? No dramas! Dad will just have to leave for the park at 3am (for a 6pm start), set up an intricate series of blankets, beach chairs, coolers and a folding table, and then hold the fort for the whole day in the sweltering Australian summer sun. Easy.
Yes, I have taken a further step in experiencing the full gamut of fatherhood experiences by being sent off to the park early to save space. The instructions were that I needed space for twenty to thirty people, near the kids play area, with trees for extra shade, one or two park benches close at hand for extra storage, and if possible, could I please also save a car space so that all the extra supplies coming later could be shipped easily to the acreage I will be saving, which shall henceforth be known as The Protectorate.
I dutifully trundled off to the park four hours earlier than the show started, and sought out the most appropriate space for The Protectorate to be situated. I then put up The Centrepiece (the marquee), regretted the lack of a portable coffee seller, worried about the rain, wondered why the bureau of meteorology was talking about 40-degree heat, and met a lovely bloke who came over to regale me with tales of his son's first birthday a few weeks earlier when he was doing all of the same things on the other side of the kids play area. Didn't help me put The Centrepiece up though. Harrumph.
Note the features of the Protectorate: Real estate gold.
Needless to say, some four hours later, as our friends arrived, the other dads all gave me knowing nods and congratulated me on The Protectorate's many fine features: good shade, great size, excellent Centrepiece and splendid array of seating availability. The sun then broke through the clouds, and we were indeed subjected to ridiculous heat, but the kids all found a water tap to play under (so much for all of the fancy play equipment next to The Protectorate).
Our Little Man shed a few tears (as is the prerogative of birthday boys and girls the world over), had no idea what to do about the candle on his cake, vaguely freaked out when everyone sang at him, helped his folks cut a brilliantly decorated cake, watched as one of the older kids helped out by eating the tops off every cupcake that we'd brought, and generally celebrated as only one-year olds can.
I'm looking forward to my next Dadventure.
Our Little Man shed a few tears (as is the prerogative of birthday boys and girls the world over), had no idea what to do about the candle on his cake, vaguely freaked out when everyone sang at him, helped his folks cut a brilliantly decorated cake, watched as one of the older kids helped out by eating the tops off every cupcake that we'd brought, and generally celebrated as only one-year olds can.
I'm looking forward to my next Dadventure.