Clara and Carl, The Beginning
“You can be in charge of the blog”, were the instructions my lovely wife, Barbara, gave to me. Right, I thought, what exactly is a blog and how does one go about starting one? I was straight onto Google....She gets to do all the fun stuff, I thought, groaning, like choosing the seasonal clothing collection, designing the website, liaising with the suppliers, setting up the Facebook page etc. And I am the lucky one who gets to cook the dinner, and write “The Blog”.
To be honest, this time last year I did not have a clue about baby clothes, let alone babies. I now know that a romper is not someone who romps, I know the meaning of “preemie” “Merino wool” and I am proud to say I know what a kimono vest is! Go me!
Going back to the start, Barbara was the brains behind “Clara and Carl Organic Baby Clothing”. We were blessed with the arrival of Baby Clara in May 2016 and we felt that there were certain clothing products unavailable here in Ireland which we wanted for our daughter. We found that we had to source these products abroad, online or while holidaying in Germany, where Barbara is originally from.
Nothing can prepare you for the joys of fatherhood and all that goes with it. The sleepless nights, the night feeds (luckily, Barbara breastfed so I got off lightly) and the explosive poops that push a nappy’s durability to the max. I still would not change it for the world.
Becoming a father is life changing and I am slowly forgetting what life was like before the arrival of my beautiful daughter, Clara.
I will never forget driving my wife and our bundle of joy home from the Rotunda, that sunny May afternoon.
I had the most precious cargo aboard our very economical, 1.6 litre, Diesel Skoda Octavia, with automatic DSG, which has a massive boot by the way….Anyway, I approached each traffic light and junction with such care and diligence, while conscientiously checking my mirrors, repeatedly!
Barbara, as a baby, suffered from very uncomfortable eczema, which had to be treated with cortisone creams. She suggested we dress Clara in clothing made from organic material. A quick Google search revealed that they were more expensive than Penneys finest!
“Nah Babe, you’re grand, we’re not hippies” I reminded her, “I’m not dressing my daughter in clothes made from hemp! Next you’ll want to sell the house and move to a commune”, I protested. “Besides, I’m almost 100% sure that O’Neills don’t make an organic version of the Dubs jersey”, I added.
I then remembered a meme I saw on Facebook, “A woman has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.”
So I did as any obedient husband would do and I opted for the easy life. “Right, I’ll read up about organic baby clothing then”, I told her, just to keep her happy. “But no promises and no communes!”, and I made my way upstairs to the peace and tranquility of the bathroom, locked the door and I sat upon my ceramic throne. “I really need a man cave”, I sighed to myself.
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