IT'S ALL COMING BACK TO ME NOW!

I visited a colleague who has just given birth to a baby boy. He's so cute, name's cool too - my favourite basketball star (and shoes) - Jordan. Side-track a bit, ever notice people always start debating on who the baby looks like. As if one can tell. I always try not to make that comparison. It offends the other party, and hell, I even have trouble identifying my son when he was in the hospital's nursery. I was goo goo -gaa gaa-ing with a bundle wrapped in blue, when it suddenly struck me that that bundle wasn't my son. Anyway, he or she better look like both mum an dad if its the end product of *ahem* biological synthesis. So likewise, Jordan is smart and clingy like all cute baby boy when he just popped out. Anyway, coming back to the subject, while I was watching the baby, I have this odd feeling of deja vu. It struck me that all the routine of rocking, graveyard shifts, the perculiar sounds made by the infant every 15 to 20 mins that stir you out of bed to check just so he/she is all right. You can debate all you want that it's just normal 'noise', but when the kid's yours, you will wake up anyway. HELP! This is a premonition of what's to come in a few months time, when I will be second time dad. Another colleague remarked that he knows someone who is having number eight - two doctors -well if they can afford it. But aren't doctors on call? How do they cope? They probably sling the baby while they do their rounds or operate - aka Grey Anatomy. Check back in 3 months time to see whether I'm still sane.