Who's the daddy?

So, tests got done. Was almost lighthearted in the end. Frazer and I had a cuppa, then realised that isn't allowed for half an hour before testing -so sat around before opening the swabs. Three packets. Pink, blue and yellow. Oh and a green one, presumably for use if there's two Dad candiadates. Like you're what, gonna get them round together? Freddie naturally got the sunshine envelope, the boy and I stuck to gender stereotyping. I nearly offered him the pink in a a moment of Amy Winehouse's 'I need a man and you're my ladyboy' preciousness, but luckily had more of a grip than that.
Had to.
I'd a bit lost it in the preceding week.

Sent a thoughtless email, over the testing, in which I chatted about how I'd taken Freddie round the bars in Hastings with my mate Jo and his lovely girlfriend Keeley. Also divulged my test wobble. In a 'I guess I'd always imagined if I had kids it'd be in a loving partnership without the need for cheek swabs and the like.' Not sure what I was thinking - think I was trying to show a softer than rock side - open up a bit in the hope of finding some connection. Needless to say he didn't respond so then I fretted massively that here I was, one night stand mother of his kid, creating the impression that, hey I'm a. Into dragging his baby round bars and b. looking for a loving partnership. He could presume, with him.

Then I sent a text, as requested saying 'test's here, when do you wanna do it?' and he didn't reply. For a whole night and the next morning. So I got into a 'he's vanishing and it's all my fault' state, and sent a very long, explanatory email. basically saying - 'look, I'm not after your money, body, love'. 'I'm no baby in one arm gin bottle in the other kinda mum' rant rant rant.
'And if you don't wanna do the test cos you're scared to know he's yours, fine. But you could have said before I paid for it. And if you don't wanna be in Freddie's life, again fine. It's not what I would have wanted for him but I'm through trying'. bit more rant.

Then he called.

I say 'did you get my email?'
he says ' no, sorry, I only check them once a week at my Mum's, going there tonight though. I'm at work now, sorry I didn't get back to you, have been flu ridden and it's my last day in the job today, but how does Thursday suit you for the test?'
I say
'um, fine, shit. I've sent you a bit of a mental email. I thought you were vanishing'

So he came. and actually I think knows I'm not nuts.
Despite the evidence to the contrary.

So, post tea, we get Freddie up from his nap, and start the swabbing. Frazer and I were pretty straight forward. Freddie was teething, badly, and wanted a cotton bud, two cotton buds, rubbed round the inside of his mouth in the same way I'd want to say, digest the content of his nappies.

Frazer sits awkwardly on the sofa whilst I, with a swab in one hand and Fred's thrashing arms in the other, attempt to persuade him it's not so bad. I'm fooling no-one. The swab is in big danger of being contaminated from angry baby fists. Frazer volunteers to help. I ask him to pin Fred's arms back. He gets all 'that's mean' at this point.

I'm like, 'look sunshine, we gotta do this, and the quicker we do the sooner he'll get over it'. End up pinning his arm back myself whilst Frazer gingerly runs the swab round a dribble filled gob. So dribble filled in fact, I'm still wondering if they'll be any DNA amongst the molar juice.

We'll find out next week.

Whilst the swabs dry we take Freddie to the sealife centre. An inspired move. Freddie loves fish. Frazer loves fish. Frazer loves that Freddie loves fish. Frazer reckons Freddie must get his love of fish from Frazer. I didn't ask, tempted as I was, whether Frazer also loved the flashing buttons that give kids a bit of aquatic knowledge. And if that's where Freddie got his love of flashing buttons from. No siree. Best to just encourage all comparisons I figure. Let that bond grow.

Freddie had been teething so badly in the days before, two big buggers pushing through his fragile gums simultaneously, that screaming had been his preferred and pretty constant method of comunication. Bar the small thrashing during swabbing incident - it could have been a different kid.

It was like he's read a book on 'how to catch a Daddy' and was all smiles, arms out for a hug and fish-wonder. Frazer waves goodbye. Freddie cried. Rubbish pretend crying that amazingly he got over the moment the door shut, but good show I thought. Then, half an hour later, he resumed the screaming.

A week on, he still only stops intermittently.
I've, thus far, managed not to join in, can't promise it'll stay that way.