I'm still wandering around in a bit of a daze. I attribute this to too many late nights playing Half Life 2, a trend which has continued since Morris' arrival (the late nights, not playing Half Life 2). The problem is that, while I'm tired, I'm a little too wound up to sleep easily.

In part it's probably a little anxiety. Morris has been sleeping almost continuously and not feeding properly (in my well-studied opinion) and up until today there was a chance he'd have to be force fed (by means of a pipe down his nasal passage into his stomach) to get enough fluids into him.

But this evening he suddenly woke up and put away 50ml in record time. 50ml may not sound like much but trust me, for a little guy like him, it may as well be a pitcher's worth. And a few hours later he did it again. Not hard to tell who he takes after on this front.

I'm unlikely to compile any sort of decent advice for fathers-to-be but there are a couple of things I'd have preferred to have known in advance.

The first may only apply to caesarean deliveries, I'm not sure, but when Morris was first plucked from his mother's womb he honestly looked dead to me. He was a deep blue colour, silent, and motionless. There was a real "Oh shit" moment there.

The second is that you're going to get a lot of advice. A. Lot. And most of it's going to be conflicting advice. Even from the (very nice, and well meaning) nurses and doctors. It makes it pretty clear that this whole deal is a bit of a black art. All of these people who are there to try to help have a slightly different collection of case histories, theories, educations and experiences to draw on. And like any good professional (I know, I do this) they're going to tell you how it is and sound like it's a widely accepted fact.

The trick is to realise this upfront and accept the advice as just that, advice, instead of treating it as the gospel truth.

And for those keeping score: no Men's Health moment yet.