Existence

The deed is done. We have registered the birth, and Caleb now officially exists. According to the TV last night, 48 million children around the world are not registered anywhere, and do not therefore exist. (don't ask me why this bit is underlined, it just is)

This poses some interesting metaphysical questions (which are more my brother's domain). In the abortion debate, there are varying views as to when a child 'exists' as a child. I'm not sure that any pro-abortionists would argue 42 days after birth, but I believe that certain South American governments have a policy of 'terminating' unregistered children. For someone who didn't exist, Caleb sure had a big impact over the last two weeks!

The top 100 names for boys and girls were posted on the wall of the Registry Office. I noticed that Caleb (which we thought was a fairly 'normal' name) is not, and has not been for the last few years at least, in the top 100. Curiously, Kai, which was what he narrowly avoided being called, was number 61 in 2004 (and we thought that was fairly way out!)

Even more popular was 'Kion', which I can't say I've ever come across before. Louis was also very popular (around 30 I think), but I couldn't help wondering how many of the parents meant to call their child (and probably do) Lewis!

For those who are interested in these things, Jack and Emily were at number 1, and have been for ages.

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Happy St Lazare's day!

We have a French calendar, which tells us the 'Saint of the day'. Yesterday was St Isabelle's day, which incidentally (or not) was what Caleb would have been if he had been a girl. Isabelle Sierra (think Nevada/Grande/Madre, not Cosworth.)

I am fairly safe in spilling this particular bean, as the chances of her ever coming to pass are non-existent to none.

Maybe I should just have a sad little celebration every 21st February...

[This is not emotional blackmail, because, as Libby points out, even if we were to have another, which we are not, there is no guarantee it would even things out anyway.]

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Libby forgot to take her pain relief last night, which is obviously a good sign. She can't drive yet, or lift Joshua or Bethany (but then, few can), but otherwise she is almost ship-shape (in a manner of speaking!) Hopefully she'll be up to coping with three by next week - I have to say, I'm not sure I ever would be!

I'm not sure if its trying to get back the share of the parental attention which has been diluted, but Joshua has upped the naughty stakes in the last few days. Yesterday he decorated the dining room table with felt pen drawings, and this morning he came downstairs adorned with a perfectly executed mascara-beard. If I hadn't thought it would send the wrong signals, I would have taken a picture to show you.

It even had a neat little moustache. I don't think he even used a mirror...

It's particularly difficult as a parent when naughty is so funny.

The dining-table drawings were also some of the best he's ever done. I even think one of them might have been me.

I wonder if there's some deep psychological significance in that...

I'll have to ask Ben.