178.33.77.24.14. 900. 28

Nope, this is not some sort of IP address, or some cryptic code. They'll make sense in a moment. I've decided to post about them because they have been front of mind this week.

This is a whole bunch of numbers that has suddenly taken on more significance for me since I've been giving it horns at the gym. Rambler's been suffering today 'cause of his spinning class. I wouldn't say I'm suffering, but I know I've been training quite aggressively.

So what are all these numbers??

178: My approximate height.. if it's not actually that, then that's my story and I'm sticking to it. ;0)

33: My age till Sunday, then I'll be 34 *sigh*... I have made NO plans and I intend doing something I enjoy more than anything else, spending uninterrupted time with mah man CV. It was also my waist size before I started gyming - but than now seems like a distant memory. I'm somewhere between a 30 and 31 depending on where the waistband's sitting.

77: my weight in kg's (not lbs). Well it see saw's between 76.3 and 77.7 week in and week out. I'm not too sure that actually qualifies as see-sawing, but there you have it anyway. I'd like to be 80kg's but that will require a bit of effort it seems. If I get it right, me thinks it'll be post worthy.

Now the numbers 33 and 77 have a ritual for me, because that's what I've been entering as my basic stats into the orbital walker every time I hop on. From Sunday, I'm going to have to break that habit and enter 34! Geepers - 34! And when I was sixteen I thought that was VERY OLD. But honestly, I've never felt better. My life (and my body too as you can tell) is finally starting to take shape - YAY!

24: The mysterious BodyMassIndex rating. It's a calculation of a weight to height ratio and used to estimate your general well being. 24 is apparently on the upper end of 'healthy' for my height, but perilously close to overweight! In fact, if I get to 80kg's my BMI will read as overweight. They (the mysterious all seeing, all doing people who make great scientific discoveries when 'they' are not stealing cars or burgling houses) do have a disclaimer though, the BMI works for people who are not 'in training'... Basically, I'm not covered by the BMI because I'm an official gym 'bunny' - So, I can ignore it. YAY! I do not like the idea of being overweight.

14: Shock horror! - is my supposed body fat percentage according to a terribly complicated and scientific looking calculation, factoring in waist size, weight and a few other dimensions. Again, I'm not convinced and am inclined to go with the 'fancy liar' at the gym that never get my weight right, but must be telling the truth when it declares I'm in the 11% zone. According to CV (and a few other people to boot) when you're around 10% you can see ab's. And I do. (for pictorial proof follow this link to a previous post about sunburn).

900: The distance I swam this morning. I love swimming as a part of my cardio training. I can get by breathing and heart rate up to astronomical levels without getting all hot and sweaty. Hmm - but that's got me thinking about the salt chlorinated pool at the gym... It really is very very salty. I shant go further with that one - sies! Fortunately, when I'm swimming, I generally don't think much. It must be something about being in water, I'm thinking of Dorey in Finding Mimo's (oops - someones craving Pizza again) - Finding Nemo. I will look at the tiles below me, and think how the cleaning gadget they use missed a spot, then I'll think briefly about swimming Midmar one day, and then I'm wondering why the jets in the water don't bubble, but will push me off my line and then I'm back to the tiles again.

I digress!

28: The number of minutes it took me to complete the said distance above. When I first took to the pools, I could manage only 500 meters in half an hour and I thought I was going to die by the time I was done. Now I'm aiming to be able to do 1000m (40 laps) in the 30 minutes. It's going to be a stretch but achievable. 28's also the average time I now do my cardio training for. The folks at the gym have pre-programmed the machines to only do 20mins. So I start with a 5 minute warm up, then immediately start a new program for 20 mins, plus a three minute cool down at the end.

I know this is a very arb post about numbers - but it makes sense for me. I think I'm lucky I didn't decide include kilojoules, calories, grams of protein, carbohydrates and fat...

There it is - it's out there - the kind of things that fill the mind of a thirty something gay guy who grows flowers for a living and used to DJ in his 20's. Have a great weekend! I plan to.

Ciao4 now!

Energizer, energizer, I'm an Ener-Ener-gizer

I've recently become aware that I'm marginally hyperactive in the evening. I can't seem to sit still.

Before you start thinking this has to do with me weaning myslef off the cigarettes, I know I've been doing this for years. I'm a consumate faffer too, but that accounts for me often leaving for a destination at the time I was supposed to arrive, which is another story all in itself.

This all revolves around what I do when I get home in the evening after gym. I feel compelled to keep moving: double check status of dogs food, unpack gym bag, re-pack gym bag, empty unfinished water in water bottles, refill and refrigerate water bottles for tomorrow, get supper going, unpack dishwasher, remove clothes from tumble dryer, get supper going, respond in the negative to CV's offers of assistance, organise clothes for work tomorrow, return to supper preparation, start packing dishwasher with new load, get eggs out the fridge and measure out cereal for breakfast in the morning, prep coffee machine, top up water jug, start measuring out meal replacement shakes and lunch snacks for the next day, consider watering plants, forget to actually water them, pet the pets, re-check the oven to see of the veggies are roasted yet, read a little (standing at the kitchen counter), get table ready for dinner and so on.

And then as suppers ready, I consider if we want/need to drink water, juice or wine (wine is actually CV's speciality, but I'm claiming it for this post), then sit down and realise there's no condiments and napkins on the table, get up again and dash to the kitchen to get missing bits, and eventually sit down to eat. All the while CV's been sitting at the dinner table (after the food is ready of course) waiting for me to sit down so we can eat. But, by the time I've finally settled down at the table both mine and CV's plates of dinner are luke warm to cool.

Dinner is always an enjoyable mix of discussion and comment on whatever's been on in the day and we relish it. Meals are something I tend to take my time on, unless rediculously ravenous.

But then, once we've eaten, I'm off again: divide up tomorrow's lunch portions into respective tupperwares, get into my jammies, faff with some thing else in the studio, bedroom or kitchen. And once all bases that I can recall are covered, I will settle. And then it's not long till I'm battling to keep one eye open and not fall off the couch.

Now after working a full day and then still having to get through some basics on the home front obviously entails that most of the above list has to be done. It's just the seemingly manic pace that I've been getting to it that's recently struck me. I think it may look like I'm an Energizer Bunny on speed to CV.

I don't know if it's a problem per se - it's just an observation that I'm now aware of.

May be it's my 'systematic' aproach to things running slightly amok, cause I'm trying to attend to three or four activity streams at once, or may be it's an innate fear of falling asleep before I've got myself ready for the next day. (In the morning, I'm a fumbling clutz and I can loose minutes walking around in circles, achieving absolutely nothing.)

Either way - it's a part of me I've only recently become aware of and as a detail person, becoming aware of a thing means I must make an effort to understand how it works. Not that this really needs figuring out I guess - or maybe it does?

Hmm, I think I'm starting to get myself into a analyzes this situation over nothing, let me get back to work.

Ciao 4 NOw

oooh - I feel all mushy inside

Let me be upfront and say I do not come from a heritage of gifting. I'm not particularly good at receiving gifts, and quite honestly find buying gifts a little overwhelming some times.

They require so much thought. What if I get it all wrong? What if my best girfreind is already sick to death of ornamental candles or vases? Are socks and jocks really that bad a gift for dad? I confess, I tend to buy gift vouchers.

I do go so far as buying vouchers that are appropriate. My best girlfreind gets a voucher from decent home decor stores. My straight, golf playing mates often get Golfers Warehouse vouchers. Book lovers - Exclusive vouchers and so on. SO it's not like I coulnd't think of anything at all for you - it's more like I thought you'd do far better chosing something appropriate for yourself - let me point you, with all my love, in a specific direction.

Anyway - I was at a family gathering (the future in-laws) yesterday to celebrate J&P's engagement and CV's nephew MV is turning 8, so that got thrown into the mix. But, beacuse it's also my birthday coming up, CV's brother WV (and family) and J&P got me gift too.

My intial reaction - without any disrespect to any of them that may reading this is: 'What on earth for!?!' But then, as one does, I had to open them.

Now, it's not Christmas, so for a moment all attention is kind of on me for a moment, as opposed to being sprea around the room. And being the terribly honest guy that I am - I might not be able to feign a response of delight if the gift sucks. The preassure is on!

First up was a gift from WV (and family). They took the best route for me - an Musica voucher! Haven't tried to redeem it - but whatever I buy, I will relish! No doubt I'll be buying a collection of rare soul cuts, recently re-mastered and re-released, or something from the Hed Candi stable. Thanks guys - it's YUMMY!

Then there was one of those enormous gift bags from J&P. Gift bags are wonderful at conceling the true contents of a gift, often with narry a hint because of their shapelessness. But with the lack of and sort of shape comes the real threat of getting something I might just not like. So, it was with trepidation I opened the gift from J&P. OhMyGOSH!!! As I realised what I was pulling out the bag, I think I momentarily became the same age as CV's 8 year old nephew. I felt all mushy with excitement inside.

I'm a sucker for Superheroes. I was never a comic book fan, but ever since the advent of the hight tech superhero movie, I've becomse a sucker for them. Wel inside was not one, but two collectable figurenes each one individually cast in lead, hand painted and numbered and endorsed by DC. Here they are below:

I'm not sure if I should un-pack them, or keep them in the original boxes to retain their value. Either way if anyone out there is thinking about something to get me for this and many a birthday to come in the future... here's the link to the page. *bashfully* And no that was not a shameless punt for birthday presents - just a suggestion if the thought had crossed your mind ;0)

I know I'll be ordering a few of these little gems online pretty soon! Thanks to WV (and family) and J&P for the amazing and totally unexpectd gifts. The big day is on Sunday, and although I know what CV got me, I can't get my little paws onto that too until then... so I'm still bursting with anticipation! I think I might just start liking the idea of getting a year older again.

Ciao4Now

The big wind that tore it all up

Not too long ago I blogged about the thunder storms on the Highveld. The storm rolling in on that blog had nothing on yesterday...

I was outside having a breath of fresh air (read: smoke) just after 9-30am when I saw a storm moving in at speed. I don't know if you've ever seen the sight of a massive wall of wind and water moving towards you across a wide open landscape? You'll be standing surrounded by a sublime stillness, watching this dull grey curtain proceeding toward you. Then it hits and for a few minutes all hell breaks loose!

The wind picked up to an intensity that must have been close to gale force. Rain lashed down from all directions in a whirling deluge of wind and water, so much so it was raining 'sideways'. I retreated to the comfort of the pack house.

Some twenty minutes later the intensity of the storm had disipated to a gentle shower. And then we recieved reports from 'the outside'. One of our sheds had lost a roof - fortunately the wind was so strong, it miraculously lifted it clear of the power lines before dumping it in pices some 30m and more away from the shed!

The greenhouses too were pummeled. Five of eight greenhouses took a knock, with three of them sustaining structural damage. We're still figuring out just how much still needs to be repaired. The obvious stuff like gutters and roof plastic is easier to account for and begin repairing, but the damage to electrical instalations is going to be a little more complex to sort out.

And then of course there's the damage to our crops. All that rain, directly onto the flowers is not so clever...

This is not quite the most positive ending to a tough week. Here's a few pictures to show you what I mean:

*SIGH*. It makes me feel quite down just looking at these again...

The receipe to kill for and the normal routine

**Please excuse my formatting of late - every time I load a picture, everything goes cock-eyed and all my paragraphs either become compressed or overly spaced and I don't know enough HTML to fix it**

This recipe calls for only a few ingredients to deliver truly explosive results!

1st Ingredient - Sleep (or lack thereof)

What's the difference between four, five and six? That's easy... or is it?

I've never been one for too much sleep. Six hours sees me through just fine. More than six hours and I feel overslept. With five hours in, I'm functioning but weary. But anything less than that and I turn into the troll that lives under the bridge, snapping up any and all unsuspecting passers by and spiting out the bits that can't be chewed. Even I'm scared of me.

2nd Ingredient - Nicotine (or lack thereof)

Nicotine deprivation is a tricky bastard. There's the slowly overwhelming sensation of a void that well up from within the chest. No amount of deep breathing can fill it. That craving slowly cobbles it's way into the brain. Eventually it carves a hole into ones mind that's so large, so totally overwhelming just about consumes you from within.

Now, if you've never had an addiction of any sort, you'd never be able to relate. But for anyone who has, and tried to beat it, you'll know: Cold turkey is a very ugly place.

My cautionary note to all smokers (myself included)... DO NOT WHERE EVER POSSIBLE PLAN YOUR HALT TO TOBACCO INTAKE DURING THE MOST TESTING WEEK YOU'VE HAD IN A WHILE!!

3rd Ingredient: American Idol

The show on TV (where the contestants actually have talent!) is pretty good and one doesn't want to go to sleep just yet.

Preparation and Serving

The other night due to a combination of the 'crazy hours' and the ever so addictive American Idol and the distractingly irritating addiction to nicotine I was running on the verge of insanity.

Insanity? OK - let me explain.

The brain and body are tired from an accumulated lack of sleep tallying up to about 9 or so hours for the past week. So thresholds to all sorts of things are wearing thin.

The need for a fag is reached the point of total distraction.

The TV show is standing as an almost worthy distraction. But it requires TOTAL concentration to hold it together.

Then, something very small and light happens on the periphery of this delicate balancing act. And somehow it's all too much. It really is a proverbial last straw.

There's a grand collapse of sorts. And for the innocent 'distractor' - a kangaroo court is held summoning a firing-line that'd make a masochistic dictator proud to file into formation and fire off a barrage of utter devastation - all in a matter of milliseconds.

For the victim it makes no sense... it cuts deep. Deeper than just the 'dish just served' should.

Like a really hot curry, it's not really the meal itself that is the kicker, but the consequences down the line that hurt the most. The recipe clearly needs some revision if it's burning a path through all and sundry.

So, I've conceded:

- I shall continue to smoke (a bare minimum) for the next few days till my days are restored to a more normal routine.

- I shall have to make the effort to drag myself off to bed ridiculously early (just after 8) in order to get the 5+ hours minimum in till my days are restored to a more normal routine.

- I shall have to buy the victim of the dish some nicely refrigerated loo-paper (read: presents / dinner / ice cream) to sooth away some of the pain caused and hope that it mends the burning.

I'm pretty certain it'll work out fine - but till then, I'm working to make life less volatile.

Weighty issues

I feel like have absolutely nothing to say... Hmm, lets see...

Rambler suggested (compliments of Stephen King) that we should just write. And so write I shall. Let's see what comes to mind. (*moments pass, the sound of the ticking clock almost overwhelming me*)


I'm a little distressed, CV is on 'deadline' and it's not a nice time for him. I can't really relate or offer any real support, 'cause my kind of deadlines sound much less intense. All I can do at any given time is "listen to him when he needs to speak, about the world he lives in and life in general". I wish him all the best with the hecticness (is that a real word?) of the deadlines looming and hope it all gets done. NO, actually, I know it will!!

And recently, CV and I've gone a bit 'diet' mad. Well it's not mad really, let's call it very very attentive. We both eat wholesome food. But, never in my life have I been so aware of the make up of carb's, proteins, kilojoules, fats etc. in what we eat.

Now, if you who know me personally, will think - but what on earth would Frank want to worry about his diet for!?! The answer is, I'm not picking up weight. I weigh in at 77.8kg's at the end of the week and start the following Monday about 1.5 kg's lighter! My target weight is just 80. You'd think I'd reach that in no time! I did, but the sad conclusion must be, I'm not eating enough!

So now the objective is to pick up the kilo's very responsibly. You know, to get in the right amounts of the right stuff...

CV has his own perceptions of himself that I don't share. But they are noted and we'll work together towards his goals too (as you'll note in a few of his previous posts). In any event there's been a fair amount of time doing quite a bit of reading - and there are no declarations yet. But if when it's all figured out - I may just reveal my plan to a heavier me!

More bits in between... Engaging stuff

It feels like an age since I last posted, and it is! Almost a week ago I was commenting on how I was taking back the baton for my brother whilst he went on holiday. I can't lie and tell you it's been a walk in the park. In fact it's been a bit of a wake up call.

I shan't, for once, bore you with all the details mostly because I just don't have the time right now and secondly it might bore you to tears.

Waking up at something past two has not been an easy re-adjustment. I agree with CV - I don't know how I do it. But more so, now that I'm used to sleeping in (so to speak) - I don't know how I did it for nearly 5 years - not too long ago, or how my folks did it for more than 30! Here's a little view of the processing end of the business taken from my desk in the corner...

It's 4am - and we're on the go with Flowers!

After work, it's off to gym, home for dinner and a short spot of telly interspersed with a focus on making sure I have everything ready from lunch to my clothing for the next day. It's not the best way for me to spend my evenings as CV ad I barely get time to connect. All I hope is that CV has the patience to see it through for the next week... It's just 6 more (short) sleeps to go! YAY!

So, please forgive me if the posts are a little scarce in the coming days. I don't want to sound like a moaner, I love the thrill of the chase - but I don't think I'll be settling into this job any time soon again...

And in other news...

This weekend was uber chilled. Saturday evening we stayed in and ate take out. CV went out to get stuff to cook but got my hint that I was very, very keen for a bit of Pizza. So he returned from the supermarket with Pizza for me and Schwarma for him. We watched a bit of tell and then he got a call from his sister JV.

And so, it was announced: The last unhitched V in CV's family is going to change that. My future sister-in-law (and no, there are still no firm dates yet for CV and myself) JV got engaged on the weekend. Her man P took them to see a spot of theater and he 'decided he didn't want to drive home', so he booked a boom at the hotel. His deft plan went off without a hitch...

I was with CV when they were speaking on the phone and CV, true to form, had tears streaming down his face. This time they were tears of joy. I'm so happy for them - I almost cried myself.

Talking about things going off without a hitch has reminded me of a friend of mine MG. He's a great, heart on his sleeve sort of guy - but he will tell you. If he planned it. Not too long ago he also decided it was time to pop the question to his now future bride D.

There was a grand plan, the perfect plan.. Think of Lionel Ritchie and and you should also think of romantic music. If I recall correctly, there was also a hotel room booked. But when they got there, for whatever reason he had to leave his jacket in the car. The family heirloom engagement ring was in his jacket pocket. Needless to say there was some distress on his part. And poor un-suspecting D was a tad put out by his irrational fear of leaving the jacket in the car.

Determined not to take the risk of leaving the ring in the car, MG decided he would throw his original plan out the window and promptly dropped to one knee declaring the reason he could not leave the jacket in the car was because he could not leave the ring at risk. And there, with his patella grinding on the tarmac he proposed. Not the romance he'd hoped for no doubt - but as it turned out, will always be a more romatic tale in the long run.

And now - it's time to get back to the grindstone - there's deaslines to be chased..
Ciao 4Now

Taking back the baton... back, way back

My life's a little upside down at the moment.

My brother MJ, is going on leave from Friday, for a week and I have to fill in for him whilst he's away. He's only been at the farm here for just under a year and when he started, I trained him to take over some of my responsibilites, so I could focus more closely on the things I'm supposed to worry about. So, the job he does is one of the many job's I've covered or developed at the farm in my long and diverse time here - in theory it should be a doddle.

However, being much like me, he's inclined to change things to make them run a lot better than they ran before. So the way things are done is now pretty different from when he took over from me.

To begin, I started work at 4am this morning, which is something I've not done in ages. And it's something I have no intention of getting used again to either! (I can hear CV cheering in the background!!)

Today was a bit of a time warp. We've gone through the run down of re-cycled daily activities and over the next few days I'll be re-training for a job I initially developed. I can already see it's pretty simple (as it always has been) and it's even simpler now that he's tweaked the system.

It's a strange sensation though, sitting at my old work-station, doing what I've done so many times before - differently. I shall accept that there will be times I have to take over this post. I 'm not a fan of the over-early wake up call, but for my brother, I'm sure it's akin to the relay racer.

If it were you, wouldn't you rather the baton be handed to someone who's run those miles a million times before than a butterfingered klutz?

Mind Bullets

Leading on from my post this weekend about how catching incoming balls (and bullets) is actually learned...

I had originally intended to do a whole post about things to with the mind, perceptions and so forth but got lost on my inabilty to catch well and that Most Consistent Player award. *grins*

Anyway - What actually brought it on was a conversation I was having on friday with LY an MSN chat buddy about remembering dreams and such and he said that not only does he often remember his dreams he has a lot of Deja vu. Which led to a whole discussion about my theory (which is no doubt an adaptation of someone else's) that pulls the sense of dejavu far away from dreams and back into reality.

It goes to the heart of experience again. Our brains are wonderful filters of information. We're conscious of that which is filtered through, but the sub-conscious is actually picking up everything from the feintest sounds in the background to the most distracting din of a jack hammer (and so it goes with vision, smell, taste and touch too).

In this theory, Deja vu is when a series of events unfolds before your eyes that is similar enough for your mind to piece together enough 'handles' of experience to make it seem like you have experienced the very same thing before.

On a different and far lighter tack, just in time for the release of 'The Curious Case of Benjamin Button'- Ever wonder why time flies so fast as you get older?

I once read in a Readers Digest that the answer was very simple: As you get older, each fraction of time represents a smaller part of your total life. So for example, 1 year to person aged 5 is 20% of their entire life experience, but to a person of 60, the same amount of time represents just 1.6% of their life - which is why it seems to whizz by.

Fascinating and mind boggling all at once, I dare say. To quote a local banks slogan from the 90's: "Makes you think, doesn't it"... and no, I do have better things to do, but I enjoy thinking about stuff like this - it's fun!

Ciao 4 Now

Catch it - if you can

Of late I've been thinking about brains... well that's not exactly true. I'd rather say discussions about the wonders of our human mind have come up with some frequency in the past few days.

Simon Geare, SA's foremost weather man, has various spots on 702. He does a science feature with David O'Sullivan during the week and made mention of an interesting study where it was proven that superman-like ability to perceive and respond with brilliant split second timing to a fast moving, head-on object is completely learned rather than some sort of innate ability lurking within us. It's a fascinating thought that. Basically translated, should one practice klapping a incoming cricket ball for years and years - you will, by experience only, become very good at it.


I wasn't very good at ball sports. I found cricket and baseball very very very boring when I was standing in the outfield. It seems I was distracted, more interested in making pictures with the clouds , wondering if they were serving cookies or orange slices with the juice during the drinks break whilst humming theme tunes from Knight Rider, the A-Team and Superman to keep myself awake. I was told I had no hand-eye co-ordination and never excelled at either sport. Quite honestly I didn't worry about it too much either.

I did win the most consistent player of the year award in my last ever season of little league. Two things stuck me about that award.

The first one was that the trophy bore our family name. I was the last in a long line (six in all) of Little Leaguers to leave the club, I think it may have been a prize for all of us - just to have it standing on the upright piano one last time before we left the club forever.

The other, was they never said what kind of consistency I'd displayed. It could have been anything, from never having missed a practice, to never making an important outfield catch. well, whatever it was - that I was just consistent.

It does make me wonder though, how those scientists would explain how Superman is able to become super-duper-bullet-dodger with the rip of a shirt in a phone booth? Must have been years of practice in the corn fields of Smallville.

A taste of parenting?

I think I got my first taste of what parenting might be like this morning.

I've recently become a step-dad to CV's two beautiful Dachies and both Pab's and Lolita, have crawled their way into my heart over the past few weeks. They're such a delight, especially since they've warmed nicely to thier new step dad, showering me with a lot of love daily. I just hope that soon enough they will even start listening to me. According to CV's 'family custom', they have their bed in our bedroom.

At around 3am this morning, we got a wake up call from 'our eldest' - Pablo. His little feet padding around the room woke me. CV, who is a far lighter sleeper than I, woke up too and tried to figure out what was wrong.

Let me say here that Pab's is a sleep lover. He's in bed by 8 most nights and generally doesn't stir until Daddy C (I would be Dady F in this case) urges him to join the world of the living at around 8am.

Point is, if Pab's is waking us up in the wee hours of the moring, it's gotta be a pressing emergency. Now, if you're reading between the lines here, you'd have figured out what the problem was... But, I'm not wise to these things yet and thought the little boy was feeling a bit lonesome as Lola, 'our youngest', had somehow manged to get away with sleeping in the crook of my arm.

But, CV being the sensitive and astute man that he is, quickly realised all was not well. In his way, Pab's told him he needed to 'go'. And so he let Pab's out and get on with his business, which was followed by the loud lapping of water, as he replenished his on board supplies.

But dear little Pab's was not to keen to go back to his bed. Closer investigation revealed the need to 'change the linen', cause our dear little 'boy' had done what little boys do. He'd wet the bed. My (rare) anthropomorphic side still tells me it's because he was feeling a little insecure with Lola not being by his side. In any event, a few seconds later and all was resolved, including the heart wrenching but altogether neccesary ousting of our little Lolita from the bed.

I could have been grumpy about being woken up in the middle of the night by a little water sport, especially since I have to wake up at around 4am every morning. But I wasn't. In fact only two thoughts prevailed: "Boy am I glad I didn't actually have to get out of bed to sort this out." And, "Is this a mild taste of what's to come if we ever go the family route?".

I'm pretty sure this had nothing on the real deal of parenting, but my overall reaction makes me a little bit more comfortable with the idea of evetually going there.