Melissa is always excited at the prospect of Christmas and, with Harry around, she’s even more festive this year.
This meant our decorations went up on December 1. Now I love Christmas but putting decorations up while trying to entertain a 10-month-old is no easy task. However, thanks largely to Melissa’s determination, we managed it.
So we’ve now got decorations everywhere – and I mean everywhere. The inside of our house looks like the set from Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Goodness knows what it will do to our electric bill.
But I’ve been warned not to do my usual ‘bah humbug’ about the decorations this year. As Melissa points out, it’s Harry’s first Christmas and we should make the effort.
Having said that, I’ve no idea what Harry makes of it all, and I’m fairly sure he hasn’t got a clue why our house is suddenly bathed in dazzling light. He does like the twinkle lights, though, and his favourite game at the moment is trying to grab them at every opportunity.
Anyway, our home is certainly feeling suitably festive now, which has got me thinking about Christmas presents, Harry’s in particular. I would like to buy him something exciting, such as a train set. I know he’s still little but he could always sit in his cot and watch the trains running.
Unfortunately Melissa has seen straight through that argument. As far as she is concerned, I shouldn’t be using Harry as an excuse to buy toys that I want to play with.
It must be a boy thing. My brother visited at the weekend and one of his first questions was ‘When’s he old enough to have a Scalextric?’
Of course, Melissa is quite right that Harry’s just a bit too young to appreciate train sets and racing cars but I’m sure he’s going to have a great time anyway – there’ll be plenty of people to entertain him and plenty of boxes to chew, tear and throw around. What more could a baby want?
Friday 4 December 2009
Tuesday 1 December 2009
Who does Harry take after?
It’s funny how different people see different things in Harry. For every person who says ‘he looks just like you’ to me, another will say ‘doesn’t he look like his mum’ to Melissa.
To be honest, I’m not sure which one of us he takes after. After all, he’s a baby and, although I obviously think Harry is the best looking little boy ever, I accept that all babies look alike, at least to some extent.
My grandad sees things differently, though. Not long after Harry was born, he told me that he ‘didn’t look like a Wright’, adding that it was definitely a good thing.
Melissa’s nan agrees that he takes after the Evans side of the family, and is convinced Harry will have curly hair like his grandad.
My mum says Harry’s just like me at that age, a conclusion she seems to have reached based on the fact he frowns a lot when he’s hungry.
As I say, though, I’m not really sure which one of us he looks like. Some days I think he resembles me; other days I think he looks just like Melissa.
One things for sure, Harry’s certainly got my hairline – a sort of permanently receded one – which I’m sure he won’t thank me for in later years.
I’ve also spotted some of Melissa’s character traits in him – he’s very happy (most of the time) and he’s noisy. The fact that he loves looking at his reflection is also something he’s inherited from his mum.
To be honest, though, I don’t care which one of us he takes after. Harry will be his own person and, I’m sure, he’ll inherit our very best qualities. I certainly hope so.
To be honest, I’m not sure which one of us he takes after. After all, he’s a baby and, although I obviously think Harry is the best looking little boy ever, I accept that all babies look alike, at least to some extent.
My grandad sees things differently, though. Not long after Harry was born, he told me that he ‘didn’t look like a Wright’, adding that it was definitely a good thing.
Melissa’s nan agrees that he takes after the Evans side of the family, and is convinced Harry will have curly hair like his grandad.
My mum says Harry’s just like me at that age, a conclusion she seems to have reached based on the fact he frowns a lot when he’s hungry.
As I say, though, I’m not really sure which one of us he looks like. Some days I think he resembles me; other days I think he looks just like Melissa.
One things for sure, Harry’s certainly got my hairline – a sort of permanently receded one – which I’m sure he won’t thank me for in later years.
I’ve also spotted some of Melissa’s character traits in him – he’s very happy (most of the time) and he’s noisy. The fact that he loves looking at his reflection is also something he’s inherited from his mum.
To be honest, though, I don’t care which one of us he takes after. Harry will be his own person and, I’m sure, he’ll inherit our very best qualities. I certainly hope so.
Sunday 22 November 2009
Life's never dull
Harry was 10 months old this week and, looking back, I find it incredible how much our lives have changed.
The focus of everything we do is now Harry. What’s also incredible, though, is how quickly he continues to change. His character is really starting to come out now and I think it’s fair to say we’re going to have our hands full for the next few years.
Not that I’m complaining. When I get home at night now, I spend the first half hour on all fours crawling around the floor with Harry chasing after me, laughing. It’s great fun, although I’m not sure Melissa appreciates us dashing around the floor while she tries to tidy up around us.
Anyway, Harry’s energy seems never-ending. Combined with the fact that he’s also pretty strong, this means life is never dull.
Take nappy changing, for instance. Whereas once we were able to keep on his back relatively easily by distracting him, now it often takes two of us – one holding him down like a wrestler, with the other changing the nappy as quickly as possible before he manages to squirm free.
If I find myself on my own with a dirty nappy, I just give him something he knows he shouldn’t have to keep him still. This can be messy as his favourite distraction is a tub of nappy cream – and he is now an expert at getting the lid off and his hands in.
And, as I say, he’s getting really strong. We bought drawer locks for the kitchen but, within minutes of fitting them, Harry had managed to break two of them and get among the pots and pans anyway.
Keeping an eye on him is a full time job. We’ve tried Harry-proofing the house – stair gates, blanks to go in the plug sockets and so on – but he still finds any number of ways to get his hands on things he shouldn’t.
By the time he goes to sleep at night, Melissa and I are exhausted. And by six in the morning, it starts all over again…
The focus of everything we do is now Harry. What’s also incredible, though, is how quickly he continues to change. His character is really starting to come out now and I think it’s fair to say we’re going to have our hands full for the next few years.
Not that I’m complaining. When I get home at night now, I spend the first half hour on all fours crawling around the floor with Harry chasing after me, laughing. It’s great fun, although I’m not sure Melissa appreciates us dashing around the floor while she tries to tidy up around us.
Anyway, Harry’s energy seems never-ending. Combined with the fact that he’s also pretty strong, this means life is never dull.
Take nappy changing, for instance. Whereas once we were able to keep on his back relatively easily by distracting him, now it often takes two of us – one holding him down like a wrestler, with the other changing the nappy as quickly as possible before he manages to squirm free.
If I find myself on my own with a dirty nappy, I just give him something he knows he shouldn’t have to keep him still. This can be messy as his favourite distraction is a tub of nappy cream – and he is now an expert at getting the lid off and his hands in.
And, as I say, he’s getting really strong. We bought drawer locks for the kitchen but, within minutes of fitting them, Harry had managed to break two of them and get among the pots and pans anyway.
Keeping an eye on him is a full time job. We’ve tried Harry-proofing the house – stair gates, blanks to go in the plug sockets and so on – but he still finds any number of ways to get his hands on things he shouldn’t.
By the time he goes to sleep at night, Melissa and I are exhausted. And by six in the morning, it starts all over again…
Friday 13 November 2009
Why I'm the bad cop of the house
Unfortunately, I’ve become the bad cop as far as Harry is concerned. Why? Well, we’ve been trying to get him into the habit of putting himself to sleep at night which, as you can probably imagine, has caused one or two tantrums.
Unfortunately for me, Melissa finds it hard to listen to Harry crying so the job of putting him down at night has fallen to me. It’s not easy. I put him in his cot, read him a story (we’re currently half way through the original 26-book Thomas the Tank Engine collection), give him his milk, turn off the light and stand outside waiting for the crying to start.
Before I’m accused of being cruel, I don’t let him cry for long. I calm him down and the process begins again; this goes on until Harry drops off. On a good night, it can last for 15 minutes; on a bad night, it can be more than two hours.
To be fair, Melissa has done it a couple of times. The first occasion, I was working late. When I got in – to the sound of Harry screaming – Melissa looked shattered. This was when we decided I should do it on a regular basis.
Anyway, things have improved. Not only is Harry putting himself to sleep now, he’s also sleeping better at night. Of course, Melissa and I are both delighted at this. However, there is a downside.
Harry now regards me with suspicion, particularly when I pick him up and take him to his room at night. Also, when he’s having a tantrum after being put down, he tries to fight me off if I attempt to pick him up – looking at the door and, presumably, hoping Melissa will come and give him a cuddle instead.
The other night, he woke up and was standing at the end of the cot, shouting but not crying. I went through to put him back down and, as soon as he set eyes on me, he started crying.
In contrast when Melissa goes to him, he’s all smiles and holds his arms out waiting to be picked up – knowing full well his mum won’t be able to resist.
So, Melissa is the good cop and I’m the bad one. I just hope Harry doesn’t hold a grudge.
Unfortunately for me, Melissa finds it hard to listen to Harry crying so the job of putting him down at night has fallen to me. It’s not easy. I put him in his cot, read him a story (we’re currently half way through the original 26-book Thomas the Tank Engine collection), give him his milk, turn off the light and stand outside waiting for the crying to start.
Before I’m accused of being cruel, I don’t let him cry for long. I calm him down and the process begins again; this goes on until Harry drops off. On a good night, it can last for 15 minutes; on a bad night, it can be more than two hours.
To be fair, Melissa has done it a couple of times. The first occasion, I was working late. When I got in – to the sound of Harry screaming – Melissa looked shattered. This was when we decided I should do it on a regular basis.
Anyway, things have improved. Not only is Harry putting himself to sleep now, he’s also sleeping better at night. Of course, Melissa and I are both delighted at this. However, there is a downside.
Harry now regards me with suspicion, particularly when I pick him up and take him to his room at night. Also, when he’s having a tantrum after being put down, he tries to fight me off if I attempt to pick him up – looking at the door and, presumably, hoping Melissa will come and give him a cuddle instead.
The other night, he woke up and was standing at the end of the cot, shouting but not crying. I went through to put him back down and, as soon as he set eyes on me, he started crying.
In contrast when Melissa goes to him, he’s all smiles and holds his arms out waiting to be picked up – knowing full well his mum won’t be able to resist.
So, Melissa is the good cop and I’m the bad one. I just hope Harry doesn’t hold a grudge.
Wednesday 11 November 2009
Breakfast in bed? No thanks...
As a new parent, I’m learning all the time. This week I learned that trying to feed an eight month old in bed is not only difficult but incredibly messy, particularly when the eight-month-old in question has been eating chocolate spread.
You might ask how on earth I got myself into that mess and it’s a fair question. Basically, I was trying to help. I woke up before the alarm, got up and showered, leaving Melissa and Harry asleep (Harry joined us in our bed about six and went straight back to sleep).
They were still asleep when I’d finished getting ready so I decided to make breakfast in bed. Harry had his usual Ready Brek, while it was toast for Melissa and myself.
Unfortunately, feeding Harry in bed turned out to be a real challenge. He was bouncing round the bed happily and, despite Melissa’s best efforts to keep him still, getting the food into his mouth was a real test of my coordination.
We managed it eventually, but not without a good portion of his breakfast ending up on the duvet and one or two frayed nerves. Things were to get worse, though. Melissa decided Harry should try some of her chocolate spread on toast. This was a mistake.
Within minutes, there was chocolate spread everywhere. Harry of course was having the time of his life – but I won’t be making breakfast in bed again any time soon.
Anyway, all this mess meant more washing. I just can’t believe how much washing one small baby makes (even without the breakfast in bed disaster).
To be honest, Melissa handles this side of things and I don’t envy her. There is washing everywhere – a pile to be washed, a pile in the washing machine, a pile in the airing cupboard and a pile waiting to be ironed.
Somehow she manages to keep on top of it which is a good job because, if it was left to me, the house would be in chaos.
You might ask how on earth I got myself into that mess and it’s a fair question. Basically, I was trying to help. I woke up before the alarm, got up and showered, leaving Melissa and Harry asleep (Harry joined us in our bed about six and went straight back to sleep).
They were still asleep when I’d finished getting ready so I decided to make breakfast in bed. Harry had his usual Ready Brek, while it was toast for Melissa and myself.
Unfortunately, feeding Harry in bed turned out to be a real challenge. He was bouncing round the bed happily and, despite Melissa’s best efforts to keep him still, getting the food into his mouth was a real test of my coordination.
We managed it eventually, but not without a good portion of his breakfast ending up on the duvet and one or two frayed nerves. Things were to get worse, though. Melissa decided Harry should try some of her chocolate spread on toast. This was a mistake.
Within minutes, there was chocolate spread everywhere. Harry of course was having the time of his life – but I won’t be making breakfast in bed again any time soon.
Anyway, all this mess meant more washing. I just can’t believe how much washing one small baby makes (even without the breakfast in bed disaster).
To be honest, Melissa handles this side of things and I don’t envy her. There is washing everywhere – a pile to be washed, a pile in the washing machine, a pile in the airing cupboard and a pile waiting to be ironed.
Somehow she manages to keep on top of it which is a good job because, if it was left to me, the house would be in chaos.
Remote control
I’ve often heard people say how clever babies are. Of course, I think everything Harry does shows just how clever he is – but then I’m biased and I’m pretty sure every parent thinks the same.
In any case, Harry continues to amaze me with his ability to grasp things so quickly.
Harry has, for a good while now, been obsessed with our Sky remote control. He is forever trying to grab it, particularly when he thinks we’re not paying attention. Sometimes, he will climb onto me as if he wants a cuddle, only to make a desperate dive for the remote at the last second.
When Harry does manage to get his hands on it, he starts chewing it immediately, channels flicking away in the background, while looking extremely pleased with himself – at least until we wrestle it back off him.
It’s a constant battle and neither side is prepared to give up. This week, though, we thought we’d made some progress when Melissa came up with the bright idea of giving him the remote control for an old television that we no longer use.
Initially Harry seemed happy enough with his new toy but he soon got tired of it. I’m not sure how he worked it out, but he seemed to realise this wasn’t the remote he was really after. Suddenly, he was hunting the Sky remote – and the battle started all over again.
So our bid to deceive Harry failed miserably. Perhaps that’s a lesson for us; after all, if he can see through us at the age of nine months, what’s he going to be like in another two or three years?
In any case, Harry continues to amaze me with his ability to grasp things so quickly.
Harry has, for a good while now, been obsessed with our Sky remote control. He is forever trying to grab it, particularly when he thinks we’re not paying attention. Sometimes, he will climb onto me as if he wants a cuddle, only to make a desperate dive for the remote at the last second.
When Harry does manage to get his hands on it, he starts chewing it immediately, channels flicking away in the background, while looking extremely pleased with himself – at least until we wrestle it back off him.
It’s a constant battle and neither side is prepared to give up. This week, though, we thought we’d made some progress when Melissa came up with the bright idea of giving him the remote control for an old television that we no longer use.
Initially Harry seemed happy enough with his new toy but he soon got tired of it. I’m not sure how he worked it out, but he seemed to realise this wasn’t the remote he was really after. Suddenly, he was hunting the Sky remote – and the battle started all over again.
So our bid to deceive Harry failed miserably. Perhaps that’s a lesson for us; after all, if he can see through us at the age of nine months, what’s he going to be like in another two or three years?
Friday 23 October 2009
Bedtime stories
One thing I’m keen to do with Harry is get him interested in books at an early age.
For the last few months, Melissa has been busy buying all sorts of books and Harry has started to take notice of them, even if he does seem to be more interested in eating them than looking at them.
When he’s in the right mood, though, he will sit on my knee and listen while I read to him but these calm periods are pretty brief and normally conclude with Harry and me in a tug of war over the book.
I’ve also been trying to read Harry bedtime stories in the hope of calming him down before bedtime. I always used to look forward to a bedtime story when I was little and most experts say it’s good to get babies into a routine before they go to sleep at night.
Unfortunately, Harry obviously hasn’t heard any of these so-called experts and, even when I use my best BBC newsreader voice, he’s still gets too excited, bouncing around his cot and trying to snatch the book out of my hand.
I’ve tried different types of books; if My Favourite Truck is a bit too racy, how about Elmer the Elephant? No joy. We still end up with Harry standing up in his cot and chewing the rail in between shouts of excitement.
However, I’m determined not to give up. And at least reading Harry a bedtime story allows me to take a trip down memory lane with Thomas the Tank Engine.
Now I can’t wait until he’s old enough to have his own train set as well – then the fun will really start.
For the last few months, Melissa has been busy buying all sorts of books and Harry has started to take notice of them, even if he does seem to be more interested in eating them than looking at them.
When he’s in the right mood, though, he will sit on my knee and listen while I read to him but these calm periods are pretty brief and normally conclude with Harry and me in a tug of war over the book.
I’ve also been trying to read Harry bedtime stories in the hope of calming him down before bedtime. I always used to look forward to a bedtime story when I was little and most experts say it’s good to get babies into a routine before they go to sleep at night.
Unfortunately, Harry obviously hasn’t heard any of these so-called experts and, even when I use my best BBC newsreader voice, he’s still gets too excited, bouncing around his cot and trying to snatch the book out of my hand.
I’ve tried different types of books; if My Favourite Truck is a bit too racy, how about Elmer the Elephant? No joy. We still end up with Harry standing up in his cot and chewing the rail in between shouts of excitement.
However, I’m determined not to give up. And at least reading Harry a bedtime story allows me to take a trip down memory lane with Thomas the Tank Engine.
Now I can’t wait until he’s old enough to have his own train set as well – then the fun will really start.
Things that go bump in the night...
STRANGE scratching noises caused plenty of concern in the Wright household this week.
Thankfully, after a couple of days trying to solve the mystery, I managed to locate the source of the sound – Harry.
It all started last weekend. Harry was asleep in bed and Melissa and I were sat in the living room downstairs with the baby monitor on. Suddenly we heard this scratching noise, apparently coming from the monitor.
To start with, I though it was just interference on the monitor – this sometimes happens. However, the sound was so regular, I decided it couldn’t be interference.
Melissa was similarly mystified but the noise stopped a moment later. I crept upstairs to check Harry was ok and found him fast asleep, albeit upside down in his cot.
We thought no more about it until the following evening when the same thing happened. Again there was a scratching sound which lasted a couple of minutes before stopping, and again Harry was sound asleep when I went to check on him.
This time we were a little bit more concerned. I was worried there was a mouse loose in the house - it’s the right time of year for it after all and we have had problems in the past (when I say problems, I mean a mouse popping its head out of a hole in the floorboards to greet Melissa which, as you can probably imagine, she didn’t find particularly amusing).
But we finally solved the mystery the following evening. I was sat upstairs waiting for Harry to drop off after putting him down for the night. After a couple of minutes I heard the scratching sound coming from Harry’s room.
I raced into the room only to find Harry stood up at the foot of the cot, grinding his teeth on the wooden top rail. Apart from some marks on the cot, there was no harm done; in fact Harry seemed to be enjoying himself and wasn’t best pleased when I stopped him.
So the mystery was solved - and at least it wasn’t a mouse.
Thankfully, after a couple of days trying to solve the mystery, I managed to locate the source of the sound – Harry.
It all started last weekend. Harry was asleep in bed and Melissa and I were sat in the living room downstairs with the baby monitor on. Suddenly we heard this scratching noise, apparently coming from the monitor.
To start with, I though it was just interference on the monitor – this sometimes happens. However, the sound was so regular, I decided it couldn’t be interference.
Melissa was similarly mystified but the noise stopped a moment later. I crept upstairs to check Harry was ok and found him fast asleep, albeit upside down in his cot.
We thought no more about it until the following evening when the same thing happened. Again there was a scratching sound which lasted a couple of minutes before stopping, and again Harry was sound asleep when I went to check on him.
This time we were a little bit more concerned. I was worried there was a mouse loose in the house - it’s the right time of year for it after all and we have had problems in the past (when I say problems, I mean a mouse popping its head out of a hole in the floorboards to greet Melissa which, as you can probably imagine, she didn’t find particularly amusing).
But we finally solved the mystery the following evening. I was sat upstairs waiting for Harry to drop off after putting him down for the night. After a couple of minutes I heard the scratching sound coming from Harry’s room.
I raced into the room only to find Harry stood up at the foot of the cot, grinding his teeth on the wooden top rail. Apart from some marks on the cot, there was no harm done; in fact Harry seemed to be enjoying himself and wasn’t best pleased when I stopped him.
So the mystery was solved - and at least it wasn’t a mouse.
Sunday 11 October 2009
All change
We’ve just returned from holiday in Whitby, Yorkshire and, having spent a whole week with Harry, I just can’t believe how quickly he’s changing.
Things seem to have happened all of a sudden and, thankfully, my holiday was timed to perfection as I got to see them all.
Just before our break, Harry learnt to sit up – without falling over. Then he started to crawl properly. This was in the space of a couple of days.
And last week, for the first time, he learnt how to pull himself up into a standing position. Now he wants to stand all the time.
To begin with, we were helping him stand; now he pulls himself upright at every available opportunity. The first time he did it, he was in his cot. Melissa and I were sat watching television as he managed to grab the top rail and pull himself upright after a brief struggle.
It was an incredible moment, and Harry was obviously very pleased with himself at having managed this feat; so pleased, in fact, he fell flat on his face a moment later. Fortunately, it’s not put him off.
This development has coincided with him learning to wave and clap. He managed to charm a whole restaurant while we were on holiday by smiling and waving at everybody.
Harry’s also started to join in our conversations, making noises that sound like ‘dad’ and ‘hiya’.
I’m not sure he knows what they mean but it’s great to hear him nonetheless (Melissa’s putting a brave face on it, but I think she’s secretly gutted he hasn’t attempted ‘mum’ yet). If he’s not being paid enough attention, he shouts – loudly.
Anyway, he’s looking and behaving less and less like a baby and more and more like a little boy, with his own personality.
Watching him grow and develop is, quite simply, the most remarkable experience of my life.
Things seem to have happened all of a sudden and, thankfully, my holiday was timed to perfection as I got to see them all.
Just before our break, Harry learnt to sit up – without falling over. Then he started to crawl properly. This was in the space of a couple of days.
And last week, for the first time, he learnt how to pull himself up into a standing position. Now he wants to stand all the time.
To begin with, we were helping him stand; now he pulls himself upright at every available opportunity. The first time he did it, he was in his cot. Melissa and I were sat watching television as he managed to grab the top rail and pull himself upright after a brief struggle.
It was an incredible moment, and Harry was obviously very pleased with himself at having managed this feat; so pleased, in fact, he fell flat on his face a moment later. Fortunately, it’s not put him off.
This development has coincided with him learning to wave and clap. He managed to charm a whole restaurant while we were on holiday by smiling and waving at everybody.
Harry’s also started to join in our conversations, making noises that sound like ‘dad’ and ‘hiya’.
I’m not sure he knows what they mean but it’s great to hear him nonetheless (Melissa’s putting a brave face on it, but I think she’s secretly gutted he hasn’t attempted ‘mum’ yet). If he’s not being paid enough attention, he shouts – loudly.
Anyway, he’s looking and behaving less and less like a baby and more and more like a little boy, with his own personality.
Watching him grow and develop is, quite simply, the most remarkable experience of my life.
Thursday 8 October 2009
Meet Dougie the barn dancing dog...
As you will have noticed, the Leader is no longer an evening paper. This has obviously meant some serious changes to our hours – and consequently my time with Harry.
One of the main benefits for me has been the opportunity to spend some more time with Harry in a morning as I know leave for work at eight rather than half six.
This means I’m able to feed Harry his breakfast and play with him before setting off for work. It also gives Melissa the chance to get ready before I leave, something she really appreciates.
As I’ve written before, I love feeding Harry but, when his teeth are playing up, this can be a bit of nightmare – food everywhere (I’ve learned the hard way not to put my suit on when he’s eating) and plenty of shouting. Fortunately, Melissa has discovered a way to distract him – she puts his favourite CD on.
Unfortunately, this involves feeding him to the sound of ‘Dougie the barn-dancing dog’. While this is effective – Harry gets particularly excited when Dougie’s friend Billy Silly joins in – I end up humming the blasted tune all day.
Anyway, my later starts have also coincided with Harry starting to crawl properly, which has made them even more entertaining. Rather than shuffling backwards, Harry is now able to move forward with a fair degree of coordination.
Of course, he’s still learning and this means that, from time to time, he simply forgets how to crawl and falls flat on his face. Thankfully this doesn’t seem to deter him and he’s soon on his way again.
All this extra time in a morning does have a downside – apart from Dougie the barn-dancing dog of course. I now get to change one, sometimes two, dirty nappies. For some reason, Melissa’s delighted with my new working arrangements.
One of the main benefits for me has been the opportunity to spend some more time with Harry in a morning as I know leave for work at eight rather than half six.
This means I’m able to feed Harry his breakfast and play with him before setting off for work. It also gives Melissa the chance to get ready before I leave, something she really appreciates.
As I’ve written before, I love feeding Harry but, when his teeth are playing up, this can be a bit of nightmare – food everywhere (I’ve learned the hard way not to put my suit on when he’s eating) and plenty of shouting. Fortunately, Melissa has discovered a way to distract him – she puts his favourite CD on.
Unfortunately, this involves feeding him to the sound of ‘Dougie the barn-dancing dog’. While this is effective – Harry gets particularly excited when Dougie’s friend Billy Silly joins in – I end up humming the blasted tune all day.
Anyway, my later starts have also coincided with Harry starting to crawl properly, which has made them even more entertaining. Rather than shuffling backwards, Harry is now able to move forward with a fair degree of coordination.
Of course, he’s still learning and this means that, from time to time, he simply forgets how to crawl and falls flat on his face. Thankfully this doesn’t seem to deter him and he’s soon on his way again.
All this extra time in a morning does have a downside – apart from Dougie the barn-dancing dog of course. I now get to change one, sometimes two, dirty nappies. For some reason, Melissa’s delighted with my new working arrangements.
You can keep your DIY
Let's get a few things straight here. First, I don't like DIY. In fact, I only do it under duress. And what's worse than building flat-pack furniture is having to rebuild the thing a couple of weeks later.
Harry's cot was one such piece of flat pack furniture. The instructions, as usual, made no sense whatsoever and it took me the best part of a day to build. However, when it was finished, I was quite proud of my handywork; it felt sturdy, even though I had no idea how I’d managed to put the thing together.
That was nearly a year ago - Melissa was very organised and had me furnish Harry's room more than three months before he was due 'just in case'.
The thing is, the cot can be adjusted, lowering the mattress as the baby grows.
After being, how can I put this politely, reminded several times about the need to lower the cot in recent weeks, I finally gave in and subsequently spent several hours sweating and swearing before finally managing to take the cot apart.
Melissa, of course, was present throughout, always ready with a few words of advice such as ‘Have you tried it the other way?’
Anyway, eventually I managed to work it out. 'Shall I put the mattress down to the lowest level?' I asked. 'Not yet,' came the reply. 'We don't want him too low.'
Barely a week later, I returned home to find Melissa looking a bit sheepish. This is not a common occurrence. After some prompting, she admitted that earlier in the day, she'd put Harry in his cot, only to find, minutes later, he had managed to grab hold of the side of the cot and pull himself upright.
My delight at this exciting moment in Harry's development was tempered by the fact that this means I'm going to have to take the cot apart again. That’s certainly something I could do without.
Harry's cot was one such piece of flat pack furniture. The instructions, as usual, made no sense whatsoever and it took me the best part of a day to build. However, when it was finished, I was quite proud of my handywork; it felt sturdy, even though I had no idea how I’d managed to put the thing together.
That was nearly a year ago - Melissa was very organised and had me furnish Harry's room more than three months before he was due 'just in case'.
The thing is, the cot can be adjusted, lowering the mattress as the baby grows.
After being, how can I put this politely, reminded several times about the need to lower the cot in recent weeks, I finally gave in and subsequently spent several hours sweating and swearing before finally managing to take the cot apart.
Melissa, of course, was present throughout, always ready with a few words of advice such as ‘Have you tried it the other way?’
Anyway, eventually I managed to work it out. 'Shall I put the mattress down to the lowest level?' I asked. 'Not yet,' came the reply. 'We don't want him too low.'
Barely a week later, I returned home to find Melissa looking a bit sheepish. This is not a common occurrence. After some prompting, she admitted that earlier in the day, she'd put Harry in his cot, only to find, minutes later, he had managed to grab hold of the side of the cot and pull himself upright.
My delight at this exciting moment in Harry's development was tempered by the fact that this means I'm going to have to take the cot apart again. That’s certainly something I could do without.
Monday 21 September 2009
Flat tyres and ducks
Some days things just don’t go according to plan. And when you have an eight month old baby, this can make things quite a challenge.
A couple of weeks ago, we decided to take advantage of the fine weather to feed the ducks in Ellesmere. What could be better – and more relaxing – than a leisurely stroll around the mere on a Sunday?
Things started to go wrong the moment we arrived. I lifted the pushchair out of the boot, only to discover we had a flat tyre. Had we remembered to put the pump and a puncture repair kit in? No. We’d had the pushchair a few months with no problems and we’d got complacent.
Unfortunately, as nice as Ellesmere is, finding a puncture repair kit and pump on a Sunday is no easy task and the best we could manage was stopping at a garage and inflating the tyre at the air and water station, attracting some very strange looks from motorists in the process.
The tyre stayed up for approximately one minute.
Determined not to let it spoil our outing, we dragged the pushchair to the mere to feed the ducks. When we arrived, however, a dog show was in full swing, which meant the ducks had all disappeared to the other side of the mere.
As the old saying goes, though, every cloud has a silver lining. Melissa decided to put Harry on the swings in the play area and he loved it. In fact, he laughed almost non-stop for half an hour. It was great.
We then retired to the Black Lion pub for an excellent Sunday lunch. Thankfully, the staff were more than happy to heat up Harry’s lunch, which meant we could all relax.
It rounded off what turned out to be an enjoyable trip after all; the ducks will have to wait for another day.
A couple of weeks ago, we decided to take advantage of the fine weather to feed the ducks in Ellesmere. What could be better – and more relaxing – than a leisurely stroll around the mere on a Sunday?
Things started to go wrong the moment we arrived. I lifted the pushchair out of the boot, only to discover we had a flat tyre. Had we remembered to put the pump and a puncture repair kit in? No. We’d had the pushchair a few months with no problems and we’d got complacent.
Unfortunately, as nice as Ellesmere is, finding a puncture repair kit and pump on a Sunday is no easy task and the best we could manage was stopping at a garage and inflating the tyre at the air and water station, attracting some very strange looks from motorists in the process.
The tyre stayed up for approximately one minute.
Determined not to let it spoil our outing, we dragged the pushchair to the mere to feed the ducks. When we arrived, however, a dog show was in full swing, which meant the ducks had all disappeared to the other side of the mere.
As the old saying goes, though, every cloud has a silver lining. Melissa decided to put Harry on the swings in the play area and he loved it. In fact, he laughed almost non-stop for half an hour. It was great.
We then retired to the Black Lion pub for an excellent Sunday lunch. Thankfully, the staff were more than happy to heat up Harry’s lunch, which meant we could all relax.
It rounded off what turned out to be an enjoyable trip after all; the ducks will have to wait for another day.
Sunday 13 September 2009
You either love it...
According to the advert for a well known ‘yeast extract’, Marmite, you either love it or you hate it. Now I happen to be a fan of this savoury spread, which really does divide opinion.
Melissa, on the other hand, cannot abide it. In fact, she refuses to kiss me when I’ve eaten it. It’s obvious, then, that this would be a bit of a battle ground for Harry.
So, last week, I decided to get the first shot in by surreptitiously giving Harry a taste of my Marmite-smothered toast. Ha, I thought, get him used to the flavour now and I’ll have an ally for life.
Harry, however, had other plans. He’d just finished seven ounces of milk and a generous bowl of porridge. After tasting the Marmite, his breakfast came straight back up while I hastily tried to clean the worst off the high chair and Harry himself, watched by a smug-looking Melissa. Poor old Harry did not look impressed and he’s definitely had an air of suspicion when I’ve fed him since.
Of course, I tried to blame the sudden sickness on teething troubles – he’s now the proud owner of two surprisingly sharp gnashers – but I don’t really believe it.
So it looks like I’ve lost the Marmite battle. From now on, I’ll be concentrating my efforts on the cricket battle – if I can’t turn Harry into a fan of this fine sport, I might find myself having to listen to Test Match Special in the garden shed.
Melissa, on the other hand, cannot abide it. In fact, she refuses to kiss me when I’ve eaten it. It’s obvious, then, that this would be a bit of a battle ground for Harry.
So, last week, I decided to get the first shot in by surreptitiously giving Harry a taste of my Marmite-smothered toast. Ha, I thought, get him used to the flavour now and I’ll have an ally for life.
Harry, however, had other plans. He’d just finished seven ounces of milk and a generous bowl of porridge. After tasting the Marmite, his breakfast came straight back up while I hastily tried to clean the worst off the high chair and Harry himself, watched by a smug-looking Melissa. Poor old Harry did not look impressed and he’s definitely had an air of suspicion when I’ve fed him since.
Of course, I tried to blame the sudden sickness on teething troubles – he’s now the proud owner of two surprisingly sharp gnashers – but I don’t really believe it.
So it looks like I’ve lost the Marmite battle. From now on, I’ll be concentrating my efforts on the cricket battle – if I can’t turn Harry into a fan of this fine sport, I might find myself having to listen to Test Match Special in the garden shed.
It's feeding time
Feeding time with Harry is a pleasure – most of the time. He loves his food and will eat just about anything we give him, including cauliflower, courgettes, broccoli, potatoes, fish, meat, porridge and so on. There’s something really satisfying about watching him enjoy his food – and you can tell he’s enjoying it because he just sits there with his mouth wide open between spoonfuls.
His real favourite, though, is dessert. Harry’s definitely inherited Melissa’s sweet tooth and it’s now got to the stage where we have to hide his sweet while he’s eating his savoury food, otherwise you’ve got no chance. He can even recognise the ‘pop’ of a lid when we open a jar of rice pudding or egg custard, which means we have to take extra care when preparing his food.
As I say, generally feeding him is easy. He has, though, developed a new trick while eating which has made the experience more of a challenge. Basically, while feeding, he, for want of a better description, blows a raspberry. This can be extremely messy, as I found out while feeding him his cheesy broccoli bake the other night; I ended up wearing most of it.
The problem is, the first time it happened, both Melissa and I laughed. I know that’s completely the wrong thing to do, but it was comical watching Harry screw his face up while spraying food everywhere. Anyway, whenever he does it now, we both try to ignore it – although in reality we’re both trying desperately not to laugh.
I’ve no idea why he does it. It’s not as if he’s full – it can happen with the second mouthful of his food – and I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t like the taste, his mouth will be wide open again waiting for more food seconds later. Interestingly, though, I’ve not seen him do it with a dessert yet; presumably that’s just too valuable to waste.
His real favourite, though, is dessert. Harry’s definitely inherited Melissa’s sweet tooth and it’s now got to the stage where we have to hide his sweet while he’s eating his savoury food, otherwise you’ve got no chance. He can even recognise the ‘pop’ of a lid when we open a jar of rice pudding or egg custard, which means we have to take extra care when preparing his food.
As I say, generally feeding him is easy. He has, though, developed a new trick while eating which has made the experience more of a challenge. Basically, while feeding, he, for want of a better description, blows a raspberry. This can be extremely messy, as I found out while feeding him his cheesy broccoli bake the other night; I ended up wearing most of it.
The problem is, the first time it happened, both Melissa and I laughed. I know that’s completely the wrong thing to do, but it was comical watching Harry screw his face up while spraying food everywhere. Anyway, whenever he does it now, we both try to ignore it – although in reality we’re both trying desperately not to laugh.
I’ve no idea why he does it. It’s not as if he’s full – it can happen with the second mouthful of his food – and I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t like the taste, his mouth will be wide open again waiting for more food seconds later. Interestingly, though, I’ve not seen him do it with a dessert yet; presumably that’s just too valuable to waste.
Friday 28 August 2009
I'm just showing off
One of the many perks of being a parent is being able to take Harry out and about. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help, frankly, showing him off.
And, sadly enough, I love it when strangers wander up to you in the street and ask about Harry and do the whole baby-noise thing. As you can tell, I’m quite proud of my son. Fortunately, Harry loves it and always charms strangers by smiling at them happily, even when he’s been a little terror behind closed doors.
It also means that I like to be in charge of the pushchair, which occasionally causes friction with Melissa, who also likes to show off. We’ve even had to come to an arrangement – Melissa pushes during the week, I take control at the weekends.
Of course, going out is not always straightforward, particularly if Harry decides he doesn’t want to go in his pushchair, and it always involves taking bags of spare clothes, food, and so on, which can make it seem a little bit like a military operation.
Generally, though, I love it and, with the sun out, we headed off to Chester last Saturday to stroll around the city and do a bit of shopping. The races were on, which meant navigating the buggy through the crowded streets was occasionally tricky but this in no way detracted from an enjoyable day, helped by the fact that Harry was fascinated by the sights and sounds of Chester.
On a practical note, I must praise the café located on Browns of Chester’s top floor. Not only is there plenty of room for pushchairs and all the associated paraphernalia, there are also plenty of highchairs and an excellent baby changing room.
It’s something of a relief to find such baby-friendly facilities. I know some cafes don’t want babies or pushchairs and that’s fair enough – I’ve complained often enough in the past about screaming kids ruining a quiet bite to eat. But it can be difficult to find somewhere to grab some lunch and feed and change Harry. Believe me, however boring this sounds, these things are important when you have a little one – especially when you want to show off.
And, sadly enough, I love it when strangers wander up to you in the street and ask about Harry and do the whole baby-noise thing. As you can tell, I’m quite proud of my son. Fortunately, Harry loves it and always charms strangers by smiling at them happily, even when he’s been a little terror behind closed doors.
It also means that I like to be in charge of the pushchair, which occasionally causes friction with Melissa, who also likes to show off. We’ve even had to come to an arrangement – Melissa pushes during the week, I take control at the weekends.
Of course, going out is not always straightforward, particularly if Harry decides he doesn’t want to go in his pushchair, and it always involves taking bags of spare clothes, food, and so on, which can make it seem a little bit like a military operation.
Generally, though, I love it and, with the sun out, we headed off to Chester last Saturday to stroll around the city and do a bit of shopping. The races were on, which meant navigating the buggy through the crowded streets was occasionally tricky but this in no way detracted from an enjoyable day, helped by the fact that Harry was fascinated by the sights and sounds of Chester.
On a practical note, I must praise the café located on Browns of Chester’s top floor. Not only is there plenty of room for pushchairs and all the associated paraphernalia, there are also plenty of highchairs and an excellent baby changing room.
It’s something of a relief to find such baby-friendly facilities. I know some cafes don’t want babies or pushchairs and that’s fair enough – I’ve complained often enough in the past about screaming kids ruining a quiet bite to eat. But it can be difficult to find somewhere to grab some lunch and feed and change Harry. Believe me, however boring this sounds, these things are important when you have a little one – especially when you want to show off.
Monday 24 August 2009
Harry goes mobile
Big news this week, Harry’s gone mobile.
He’s not crawling properly yet, but he’s discovered that, by sticking his backside in the air and pushing up with his arms, he’s able to shuffle around quite effectively.
Admittedly he tends to go backwards and sideways rather than forwards, but it’s movement nonetheless.
Last weekend, Melissa and I were eating our breakfast while Harry was on the playmat by our feet. By the time I’d finished my porridge, he’d managed to get himself all the way to the other side of the room and was about to start eating the television stand when I picked him up.
Of course, this changes everything. I’m no longer able to plonk Harry on his play mat and read the paper or watch the cricket; instead I have to watch his every move and jump up every five minutes to stop him chewing bits of furniture.
Not that I mind. Watching him move is fascinating, but the real problems start when he gets in his walker.
His walker is a slightly odd contraption with a seat and wheels that allows him to dash around the kitchen at surprising speed.
When we first bought this a couple of months ago, Harry would sit in it for a few minutes before his head would drop and we’d have to pick him up. Now he’s mastered the steering, he’s quite happy to spend a lot longer in it – and find the energy to cause mayhem. One of his favourite tricks is grabbing the basket in the dishwasher as you try to empty it. Occasionally this can cause quite a mess – much to Harry’s amusement.
His other favourite trick is to dash across the kitchen heading for Melissa’s precious piano. This prompts the sort of sprint from Melissa not seen since her days at Ysgol Dinas Bran – and can be quite entertaining to watch.
Harry, meanwhile, is seemingly oblivious to the chaos his new mobile status creates. As for me, I think I’ll be getting a few more grey hairs in the next couple of months.
He’s not crawling properly yet, but he’s discovered that, by sticking his backside in the air and pushing up with his arms, he’s able to shuffle around quite effectively.
Admittedly he tends to go backwards and sideways rather than forwards, but it’s movement nonetheless.
Last weekend, Melissa and I were eating our breakfast while Harry was on the playmat by our feet. By the time I’d finished my porridge, he’d managed to get himself all the way to the other side of the room and was about to start eating the television stand when I picked him up.
Of course, this changes everything. I’m no longer able to plonk Harry on his play mat and read the paper or watch the cricket; instead I have to watch his every move and jump up every five minutes to stop him chewing bits of furniture.
Not that I mind. Watching him move is fascinating, but the real problems start when he gets in his walker.
His walker is a slightly odd contraption with a seat and wheels that allows him to dash around the kitchen at surprising speed.
When we first bought this a couple of months ago, Harry would sit in it for a few minutes before his head would drop and we’d have to pick him up. Now he’s mastered the steering, he’s quite happy to spend a lot longer in it – and find the energy to cause mayhem. One of his favourite tricks is grabbing the basket in the dishwasher as you try to empty it. Occasionally this can cause quite a mess – much to Harry’s amusement.
His other favourite trick is to dash across the kitchen heading for Melissa’s precious piano. This prompts the sort of sprint from Melissa not seen since her days at Ysgol Dinas Bran – and can be quite entertaining to watch.
Harry, meanwhile, is seemingly oblivious to the chaos his new mobile status creates. As for me, I think I’ll be getting a few more grey hairs in the next couple of months.
Tuesday 18 August 2009
And another picture
Harry posing for the camera - the picture was taken by the brilliant Rick Matthews (NWN's picture editor), who also has the patience of a saint. Cheers Rick.
Pictures of Harry... about time too
Harry is a quick learner... he no longer needs us when he's thirsty. By the way, that's juice, not beer, in his bottle.
Teeth - nothing but trouble
Teeth. As my nan is fond of saying, they’re are a pain when you get them, and they’re a pain when they fall out; she should know, she’s lived with them for 93 years.
Harry is now also discovering what a nuisance teeth can be – and that’s making life interesting in the Wright household at the moment.
For a start, anything within grabbing distance of Harry is immediately put into his mouth so that he can gnaw on it. His latest trick is putting his feet into his mouth and chewing on them. It looks incredibly uncomfortable but seems to ease his teething troubles, albeit temporarily.
Other favourites include the fingers of unsuspecting visitors, and I’ve had to stifle the odd smile as shocked friends discreetly try to remove their hands from Harry’s mouth without upsetting him. This is no easy task – he’s got a strong grip and can be very determined where his teeth are concerned.
Because Harry spends so much time gnawing at things, dribble has also become much more of problem. Bibs are essential, otherwise his clothes can literally be soaking wet within minutes.
All of this does mean that Harry can be a bit of a handful from time to time, but I can understand why he gets grumpy. Apparently, he’s got 27 teeth to look forward to – and I found it painful enough when my four wisdom teeth broke through.
Anyway, my technique when he’s upset is to try and distract him by jumping, clapping, shouting and generally acting the fool. Occasionally this works, although sometimes it just makes him cry more. To be fair, I’d probably cry too if I saw my dad jumping round the room and clapping like a lunatic. Having an embarrassing dad is all you need when your teeth are hurting…
Despite all the pain, no teeth have broken through yet. Hopefully they will soon – then we can start looking forward to the next set.
Harry is now also discovering what a nuisance teeth can be – and that’s making life interesting in the Wright household at the moment.
For a start, anything within grabbing distance of Harry is immediately put into his mouth so that he can gnaw on it. His latest trick is putting his feet into his mouth and chewing on them. It looks incredibly uncomfortable but seems to ease his teething troubles, albeit temporarily.
Other favourites include the fingers of unsuspecting visitors, and I’ve had to stifle the odd smile as shocked friends discreetly try to remove their hands from Harry’s mouth without upsetting him. This is no easy task – he’s got a strong grip and can be very determined where his teeth are concerned.
Because Harry spends so much time gnawing at things, dribble has also become much more of problem. Bibs are essential, otherwise his clothes can literally be soaking wet within minutes.
All of this does mean that Harry can be a bit of a handful from time to time, but I can understand why he gets grumpy. Apparently, he’s got 27 teeth to look forward to – and I found it painful enough when my four wisdom teeth broke through.
Anyway, my technique when he’s upset is to try and distract him by jumping, clapping, shouting and generally acting the fool. Occasionally this works, although sometimes it just makes him cry more. To be fair, I’d probably cry too if I saw my dad jumping round the room and clapping like a lunatic. Having an embarrassing dad is all you need when your teeth are hurting…
Despite all the pain, no teeth have broken through yet. Hopefully they will soon – then we can start looking forward to the next set.
Thursday 6 August 2009
The best start in life?
I like to think that Melissa and I are doing our best to give Harry a decent start in life. For example, now he’s eating solids, we try and make sure the food he eats is homemade and, whenever possible, that it’s out of our garden.
But there’s no doubt that sacrifices have to be made when you have a little one. Your social life, for instance, suffers, as does sleep of course.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not after sympathy. Both Melissa and I wanted a baby and we are quite happy to changes our lives to suit Harry’s needs.
One area that still causes me problems, though, is music. Now Melissa is quite happy to listen to (and sing) nursery rhymes with Harry all day – in the house and in the car. I’ll do it but, after a while, I need a break and go back to my own music, even though Melissa tells me off for being cruel to our son.
I’m a bit worried about the impact this is going to have on Harry in later life. The other day, for instance, I was in the car with Harry and had my ipod plugged in. It was a fairly random selection of music, ranging from contemporary (Elbow, Ryan Adams and so on), to 80s rock and pop (Def Leppard, Aha), and the downright bizarre (Buggles and The Wurzels).
I’m just not sure this is setting the right tone for Harry. I read somewhere that classical music is the best thing to play to young children but, frankly, my taste in music is just too cheesy. The good thing is, Harry doesn’t seem to mind – yet. At one point, I’m sure he tried gurgling along to ‘Video killed the radio star’.
If it’s any consolation, Harry got revenge of sorts when I went for a run last weekend. I plugged in the ipod and chose a random selection of music from my computer. You can imagine my surprise and disappointment when, half way through the run, Humpty Dumpty started playing.
Anyway, I’ve resolved to do something about it and chose my music more carefully in future. It’s all very well feeding Harry the right food, but if he grows up singing ‘I’ve got a brand new combine harvester’, I’ll know my attempt at good parenting has failed.
But there’s no doubt that sacrifices have to be made when you have a little one. Your social life, for instance, suffers, as does sleep of course.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not after sympathy. Both Melissa and I wanted a baby and we are quite happy to changes our lives to suit Harry’s needs.
One area that still causes me problems, though, is music. Now Melissa is quite happy to listen to (and sing) nursery rhymes with Harry all day – in the house and in the car. I’ll do it but, after a while, I need a break and go back to my own music, even though Melissa tells me off for being cruel to our son.
I’m a bit worried about the impact this is going to have on Harry in later life. The other day, for instance, I was in the car with Harry and had my ipod plugged in. It was a fairly random selection of music, ranging from contemporary (Elbow, Ryan Adams and so on), to 80s rock and pop (Def Leppard, Aha), and the downright bizarre (Buggles and The Wurzels).
I’m just not sure this is setting the right tone for Harry. I read somewhere that classical music is the best thing to play to young children but, frankly, my taste in music is just too cheesy. The good thing is, Harry doesn’t seem to mind – yet. At one point, I’m sure he tried gurgling along to ‘Video killed the radio star’.
If it’s any consolation, Harry got revenge of sorts when I went for a run last weekend. I plugged in the ipod and chose a random selection of music from my computer. You can imagine my surprise and disappointment when, half way through the run, Humpty Dumpty started playing.
Anyway, I’ve resolved to do something about it and chose my music more carefully in future. It’s all very well feeding Harry the right food, but if he grows up singing ‘I’ve got a brand new combine harvester’, I’ll know my attempt at good parenting has failed.
Monday 3 August 2009
Sleeping: Part 10
It’s funny how quickly you get into a habit when you’ve got a little one. Since Harry’s been sleeping in his own room, he’s tended to wake up just before I get up for work – about 5 to 5.30am as a rule.
Anyway, we’ve got into a habit of putting him in our bed for an hour or so because he settles back to sleep quickly and we’re able to get a few more minutes’ rest before we have to get up.
I know this probably goes against most good parenting guides, but what the heck, it seems to work and Harry’s happy with the arrangement.
However, I was a little bit shocked when, last Thursday, I woke around midnight to find Harry asleep on the pillow next to me. Against my better judgement, I nudged Melissa and asked if something was wrong. Was he ill, is that why she’d brought him in so early?
I got a mumbled reply about thinking it was morning, before Melissa nodded off again. I drifted off to sleep eventually before being woken a couple of hours later by Melissa carrying Harry back to his own bed. As she got back in, she said it was too early for him to be in with us. Being half asleep, I didn’t take too much notice until, an hour later – about half four I think – I was disturbed by Melissa bringing Harry back into our room.
The next day, a slightly bleary-eyed Melissa put this hokey-cokey performance down to tiredness. Goodness knows what Harry made of it all, but he got his revenge the following night.
As usual, he joined us in our bed just before six, and I quickly went back to sleep hoping to get a bit of a lie-in. It was a Saturday morning, after all. Half an hour later, I opened my eyes to find Harry’s nose practically touching mine while he slapped my face with gusto. He was also wearing a huge grin. I’m sure he knew what he was doing.
Anyway, we’ve got into a habit of putting him in our bed for an hour or so because he settles back to sleep quickly and we’re able to get a few more minutes’ rest before we have to get up.
I know this probably goes against most good parenting guides, but what the heck, it seems to work and Harry’s happy with the arrangement.
However, I was a little bit shocked when, last Thursday, I woke around midnight to find Harry asleep on the pillow next to me. Against my better judgement, I nudged Melissa and asked if something was wrong. Was he ill, is that why she’d brought him in so early?
I got a mumbled reply about thinking it was morning, before Melissa nodded off again. I drifted off to sleep eventually before being woken a couple of hours later by Melissa carrying Harry back to his own bed. As she got back in, she said it was too early for him to be in with us. Being half asleep, I didn’t take too much notice until, an hour later – about half four I think – I was disturbed by Melissa bringing Harry back into our room.
The next day, a slightly bleary-eyed Melissa put this hokey-cokey performance down to tiredness. Goodness knows what Harry made of it all, but he got his revenge the following night.
As usual, he joined us in our bed just before six, and I quickly went back to sleep hoping to get a bit of a lie-in. It was a Saturday morning, after all. Half an hour later, I opened my eyes to find Harry’s nose practically touching mine while he slapped my face with gusto. He was also wearing a huge grin. I’m sure he knew what he was doing.
Friday 24 July 2009
Feeling useful again...
One thing that’s nice as a new dad is feeling useful. It may sound a bit strange saying that, but there are plenty of occasions when I’ve felt a bit helpless, being stuck in work while Melissa handles some kind of minor crisis at home with Harry.
Admittedly, this wasn’t a problem immediately after Harry was born. During my two weeks’ paternity leave, I was on tea-making duty for the seemingly never-ending stream of visitors, as well as sterilising bottles, making up feeds and so on. But when I went back to work, Melissa coped so well, there were times when I felt I couldn’t do anything useful to help.
Since Harry’s got a little older, though, I’ve found myself becoming more useful again. It’s not that Harry is a bad baby; far from it. However, he has been teething for the last couple of months and this can mean a few, how can I put it, niggly days.
Since I went back to work after Harry was born, Melissa’s made a point of handing him straight over to me when I get in so that I can spend some time with him, feed him, change him and so on. I always look forward to this part of the day – it’s my chance to convince Harry that cricket is in fact the finest sport ever invented.
Anyway, when he’s teething, he can be a bit of a handful and I can tell as soon as open the door what sort of day it’s been for Melissa. Put it this way, some days she’s very keen for me to finish work on time.
I still get the easy end of the deal though; I’m not just saying this to score a few brownie points, but looking after a young baby has got to be one of the hardest jobs about. So I’m happy to keep Harry occupied while Melissa catches up on all the things she intended, but didn’t have time to do during the day. At least it makes me feel useful again.
Admittedly, this wasn’t a problem immediately after Harry was born. During my two weeks’ paternity leave, I was on tea-making duty for the seemingly never-ending stream of visitors, as well as sterilising bottles, making up feeds and so on. But when I went back to work, Melissa coped so well, there were times when I felt I couldn’t do anything useful to help.
Since Harry’s got a little older, though, I’ve found myself becoming more useful again. It’s not that Harry is a bad baby; far from it. However, he has been teething for the last couple of months and this can mean a few, how can I put it, niggly days.
Since I went back to work after Harry was born, Melissa’s made a point of handing him straight over to me when I get in so that I can spend some time with him, feed him, change him and so on. I always look forward to this part of the day – it’s my chance to convince Harry that cricket is in fact the finest sport ever invented.
Anyway, when he’s teething, he can be a bit of a handful and I can tell as soon as open the door what sort of day it’s been for Melissa. Put it this way, some days she’s very keen for me to finish work on time.
I still get the easy end of the deal though; I’m not just saying this to score a few brownie points, but looking after a young baby has got to be one of the hardest jobs about. So I’m happy to keep Harry occupied while Melissa catches up on all the things she intended, but didn’t have time to do during the day. At least it makes me feel useful again.
Tuesday 21 July 2009
Quality time...
AS I’ve said on countless occasions in this column, I’m really enjoying being a dad.
One of the few downsides is that, from time to time, I’ve suddenly realise that I seem to have spent hardly any quality time with Melissa.
To be honest, most of the time you’re so busy dealing with a baby that you don’t even notice. And when Harry has gone to bed, usually we’re both exhausted, and the only thing we’re ready for is sleep.
However, in the last few weeks, this has started to change. Harry is now sleeping happily in his own room and is going to bed earlier (normally between eight and nine). This means Melissa and I have more time to spend together before we go to bed – and it’s so nice to be able to relax in each other’s company after a long day.
Don’t get me wrong, having Harry is still the best thing that’s ever happened to me; it’s just nice to be able to spend and hour or two recovering and chatting over the day’s events without having to worry about Harry.
Mind you, having done the Three Peaks challenge in 24 hours last weekend, I was absolutely over the moon to spot Harry and Melissa waiting for me at the bottom of Snowdon as I ran the last few yards.
Melissa had said she wouldn’t be able to pick me up, so you can imagine my delight when I realised she’d changed her mind and brought Harry along, even if he was a bit sleepy from the car journey.
It was the longest I’d gone without seeing Harry since he was born, and I’m surprised just how much I missed him.
Seeing him gave me a real lift after an exhausting day or two – he even smiled when I picked him up, despite the fact I was in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes. Suddenly, it all seemed worthwhile.
One of the few downsides is that, from time to time, I’ve suddenly realise that I seem to have spent hardly any quality time with Melissa.
To be honest, most of the time you’re so busy dealing with a baby that you don’t even notice. And when Harry has gone to bed, usually we’re both exhausted, and the only thing we’re ready for is sleep.
However, in the last few weeks, this has started to change. Harry is now sleeping happily in his own room and is going to bed earlier (normally between eight and nine). This means Melissa and I have more time to spend together before we go to bed – and it’s so nice to be able to relax in each other’s company after a long day.
Don’t get me wrong, having Harry is still the best thing that’s ever happened to me; it’s just nice to be able to spend and hour or two recovering and chatting over the day’s events without having to worry about Harry.
Mind you, having done the Three Peaks challenge in 24 hours last weekend, I was absolutely over the moon to spot Harry and Melissa waiting for me at the bottom of Snowdon as I ran the last few yards.
Melissa had said she wouldn’t be able to pick me up, so you can imagine my delight when I realised she’d changed her mind and brought Harry along, even if he was a bit sleepy from the car journey.
It was the longest I’d gone without seeing Harry since he was born, and I’m surprised just how much I missed him.
Seeing him gave me a real lift after an exhausting day or two – he even smiled when I picked him up, despite the fact I was in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes. Suddenly, it all seemed worthwhile.
Wednesday 15 July 2009
And finally on the Three Peaks...
I'm sure you're all sick of me banging on about the Three Peaks, but just in case anybody's interested there's a video diary of our experiences here:
http://www.eveningleader.co.uk/news/VIDEO-Evening-Leader-team-complete.5452813.jp
http://www.eveningleader.co.uk/news/VIDEO-Evening-Leader-team-complete.5452813.jp
Sunday 12 July 2009
Three Peaks in 24 hours - we did it!
A slideshow of our Three Peaks in 24 hours challenge. Enjoy.
Feeling a little tired today but no too bad in the cricumstances - and only a few aches and pains. Still can't believe we made it.
Feeling a little tired today but no too bad in the cricumstances - and only a few aches and pains. Still can't believe we made it.
Tuesday 7 July 2009
More nappies...
A couple of weeks ago I wrote that I was now a dab hand at changing nappies. Clearly I tempted fate with this rather self-congratulatory statement as Harry has now decided to tear up the rule book.
Let me explain. I’m used to Harry lying on his back and co-operating while I’m changing him. In recent weeks he’s learned how to roll onto his side but while this made the process a little more tricky, it was still manageable.
Now, however, he’s learned how to roll onto his front. This makes it nigh on impossible to change him quickly. What’s more, he spends five minutes rolling onto his tummy, followed by a further five minutes trying to crawl before giving up and screaming.
At this point, I turn him back over and the whole process begins again immediately while I try and wrestle Harry into his nappy.
As you can probably imagine, it becomes particularly tricky if you’re dealing with a full nappy.
To complicate matters further, Harry has now started eating pureed vegetables – carrot, broccoli and the like. Without going in to the gory details, this makes full nappies a far more daunting prospect.
On a happier note, though, Harry seems to be enjoying all this new food. As well as baby rice and vegetables, he’s also eating porridge and yoghurts. Feeding him is relatively easy because he’s so keen.
In fact, the only problem is he sometimes gets too excited trying to grab the spoon and, if you’re not careful, you can end up covered in food; believe me, it’s not a good look when you turn up for an important meeting with baby rice down your trousers.
At least Harry’s swimming is coming on. His latest visit was a much more relaxed affair and he appeared to enjoy it – we even managed to get him dressed and out of the changing rooms without a tantrum. Believe me, it felt like a major victory.
Let me explain. I’m used to Harry lying on his back and co-operating while I’m changing him. In recent weeks he’s learned how to roll onto his side but while this made the process a little more tricky, it was still manageable.
Now, however, he’s learned how to roll onto his front. This makes it nigh on impossible to change him quickly. What’s more, he spends five minutes rolling onto his tummy, followed by a further five minutes trying to crawl before giving up and screaming.
At this point, I turn him back over and the whole process begins again immediately while I try and wrestle Harry into his nappy.
As you can probably imagine, it becomes particularly tricky if you’re dealing with a full nappy.
To complicate matters further, Harry has now started eating pureed vegetables – carrot, broccoli and the like. Without going in to the gory details, this makes full nappies a far more daunting prospect.
On a happier note, though, Harry seems to be enjoying all this new food. As well as baby rice and vegetables, he’s also eating porridge and yoghurts. Feeding him is relatively easy because he’s so keen.
In fact, the only problem is he sometimes gets too excited trying to grab the spoon and, if you’re not careful, you can end up covered in food; believe me, it’s not a good look when you turn up for an important meeting with baby rice down your trousers.
At least Harry’s swimming is coming on. His latest visit was a much more relaxed affair and he appeared to enjoy it – we even managed to get him dressed and out of the changing rooms without a tantrum. Believe me, it felt like a major victory.
Sunday 5 July 2009
In training...
Last weekend, we took advantage of the fine weather to do a training climb of Snowdon in preparation for our Three Peaks challenge. It was pretty warm - hopefully we'll get similar weather this weekend.
Anyway, it all went pretty well, apart from Rick twisting his ankle on the way up. Bring on Friday!
By the way, you can of course still sponsor me by going to http://www.justgiving.com/NWN3peaks/
Thanks
Anyway, it all went pretty well, apart from Rick twisting his ankle on the way up. Bring on Friday!
By the way, you can of course still sponsor me by going to http://www.justgiving.com/NWN3peaks/
Thanks
Friday 26 June 2009
The Christening
It was Harry’s Christening on Sunday and – to our great relief – everything went according to plan in the end.
There were, however, some little dramas along the way to keep us on our toes. The first happened about five minutes before we were due to leave for church.
Harry was sitting in his chair smiling happily when suddenly his expression changed and we had a full nappy. Nothing unusual in that, you might say, but Harry had already filled his nappy twice that day so it was a little unexpected.
To compound matters, the contents of his nappy had somehow spilled onto his vest, which meant we had to undress him completely. As you can imagine, caused some excitement as Melissa and I battled to change a nappy while trying to protect our outfits.
Anyway, we managed to get to the church in time and Harry was perfectly behaved for the first part of the service – before falling soundly asleep in my arms.
This left me with a dilemma. Should I wake him up before handing him over to the vicar to be baptised, or should I let him sleep. I chose the latter.
I admit I can’t think of many things worse than being woken up by somebody pouring water over your head while being dangled upside down in front of an audience, but Harry handled the situation with aplomb.
True, his bottom lip quivered but, thanks to the swift intervention of Chirk vicar, Rev Tony Rees, Harry was soon back to his smiling self and the rest of the service went without a hitch (or a scream). I think Harry just enjoyed being the centre of attention.
There were, however, some little dramas along the way to keep us on our toes. The first happened about five minutes before we were due to leave for church.
Harry was sitting in his chair smiling happily when suddenly his expression changed and we had a full nappy. Nothing unusual in that, you might say, but Harry had already filled his nappy twice that day so it was a little unexpected.
To compound matters, the contents of his nappy had somehow spilled onto his vest, which meant we had to undress him completely. As you can imagine, caused some excitement as Melissa and I battled to change a nappy while trying to protect our outfits.
Anyway, we managed to get to the church in time and Harry was perfectly behaved for the first part of the service – before falling soundly asleep in my arms.
This left me with a dilemma. Should I wake him up before handing him over to the vicar to be baptised, or should I let him sleep. I chose the latter.
I admit I can’t think of many things worse than being woken up by somebody pouring water over your head while being dangled upside down in front of an audience, but Harry handled the situation with aplomb.
True, his bottom lip quivered but, thanks to the swift intervention of Chirk vicar, Rev Tony Rees, Harry was soon back to his smiling self and the rest of the service went without a hitch (or a scream). I think Harry just enjoyed being the centre of attention.
Friday 19 June 2009
Five months on... and I'm still enjoying it
Harry is five months old today – and the time has simply flown by. Looking back, I’m amazed how quickly you adjust to the massive changes in your life, and how much you learn in a relatively short space of time.
Take nappies. When Harry was born, I was incredibly clumsy with nappies and the result was that Harry would often wake up damp. Now I’m a dab hand at changing him, even though I say so myself.
Sleep has also changed markedly. When Harry was born, we were up once or even twice a night to feed and change him; now we’re grumpy if he wakes early and disturbs us.
As you become more familiar with the day to day demands of being a parent, you also learn to relax a bit more too. When Harry was born, I couldn’t imagine leaving him with anybody except Melissa; now I’m quite happy when he stays with his grandparents.
There’s no doubt that having children changes your perspective on life. As I’ve said before, it does make you soft; last week, Harry managed to roll onto his front and Melissa phoned me – right on the Evening Leader deadline – to tell me. I’d have done the same – the smallest development is big news when you have a baby.
As for Harry himself, he’s great. He’s getting bigger, stronger and more alert by the day. He’s also more demanding – and if you’re not paying him enough attention, he’ll happily let you know by way of a loud scream.
He’s started playing a lot more too. At the moment, Harry’s favourite game is grabbing your fingers and trying to eat them, and he’s generally much more responsive when you talk to him – smiling, giggling and laughing – which really does make you feel like the most important person on earth.
So, after five months, I’ve only good things to say about being a parent; and before you say it, I’m sure I’ll still feel the same when Harry’s a teenager.
Take nappies. When Harry was born, I was incredibly clumsy with nappies and the result was that Harry would often wake up damp. Now I’m a dab hand at changing him, even though I say so myself.
Sleep has also changed markedly. When Harry was born, we were up once or even twice a night to feed and change him; now we’re grumpy if he wakes early and disturbs us.
As you become more familiar with the day to day demands of being a parent, you also learn to relax a bit more too. When Harry was born, I couldn’t imagine leaving him with anybody except Melissa; now I’m quite happy when he stays with his grandparents.
There’s no doubt that having children changes your perspective on life. As I’ve said before, it does make you soft; last week, Harry managed to roll onto his front and Melissa phoned me – right on the Evening Leader deadline – to tell me. I’d have done the same – the smallest development is big news when you have a baby.
As for Harry himself, he’s great. He’s getting bigger, stronger and more alert by the day. He’s also more demanding – and if you’re not paying him enough attention, he’ll happily let you know by way of a loud scream.
He’s started playing a lot more too. At the moment, Harry’s favourite game is grabbing your fingers and trying to eat them, and he’s generally much more responsive when you talk to him – smiling, giggling and laughing – which really does make you feel like the most important person on earth.
So, after five months, I’ve only good things to say about being a parent; and before you say it, I’m sure I’ll still feel the same when Harry’s a teenager.
Friday 12 June 2009
Please help
In a break from my usual ramblings about Harry and family life, I thought I'd issue an appeal through this blog for sponsorship. For reasons which now escape me, I've signed up, along with three colleagues from the Evening Leader, to take part in the Three Peaks challenge next month.
We're raising money for Hope House Children's Hospice - a very worthy cause - so feel free to support us by giving me money. Full details of our challenge can be found here:
http://www.eveningleader.co.uk/news/NWN-editors-to-support-Hope.5360699.jp
I've no idea what I'm getting myself into - I've never walked any of the mountains before so it will be a whole new and, no doubt, very challenging 24 hours. Anyway, if you feel inspired to help you can e-mail me with any donations at martin.wright@nwn.co.uk.
Right, begging over. Normal service will soon be resumed.
We're raising money for Hope House Children's Hospice - a very worthy cause - so feel free to support us by giving me money. Full details of our challenge can be found here:
http://www.eveningleader.co.uk/news/NWN-editors-to-support-Hope.5360699.jp
I've no idea what I'm getting myself into - I've never walked any of the mountains before so it will be a whole new and, no doubt, very challenging 24 hours. Anyway, if you feel inspired to help you can e-mail me with any donations at martin.wright@nwn.co.uk.
Right, begging over. Normal service will soon be resumed.
Bonding?
Like all new parents, I want to form a strong father-and-son bond with Harry. However, I think my efforts in this direction have suffered a bit of a knock in recent weeks.
Firstly, I went along to the doctor’s with Harry for his second round of injections. Melissa had taken Harry for his first set a few weeks earlier and he was, by all accounts, pretty upset at the whole experience.
So this time, I went along as well. By the time we’d walked to the surgery, Harry was fast asleep, so you can imagine the nasty shock he got when he woke up to find a smiling nurse jabbing a long needle into the top of his leg. Poor Harry looked heartbroken and, judging by the look in his eyes, he didn’t think much of me for allowing it to happen.
Anyway, I’ve since spent plenty of time trying to rebuild Harry’s trust in me – only to undermine all the good work by taking him swimming.
Things started pretty well. We took Harry to Plas Madoc for the excellent parent and paddler session on a Sunday morning. We bought the necessary inflatable, popped Harry in it and he seemed quite happy bobbing up and down in the water.
Then the wave machine started; Harry was almost instantly submerged by a wave which caught both of us by surprise. Fortunately, Melissa was on hand to pick up the pieces and Harry was soon back to his smiling self – albeit with his trust in me once again thoroughly undermined.
We’re definitely going to persist with the swimming, though, because Harry did seem to enjoy it for the most part. Next time, when the wave machine siren goes, I’ll be a little more careful.
Firstly, I went along to the doctor’s with Harry for his second round of injections. Melissa had taken Harry for his first set a few weeks earlier and he was, by all accounts, pretty upset at the whole experience.
So this time, I went along as well. By the time we’d walked to the surgery, Harry was fast asleep, so you can imagine the nasty shock he got when he woke up to find a smiling nurse jabbing a long needle into the top of his leg. Poor Harry looked heartbroken and, judging by the look in his eyes, he didn’t think much of me for allowing it to happen.
Anyway, I’ve since spent plenty of time trying to rebuild Harry’s trust in me – only to undermine all the good work by taking him swimming.
Things started pretty well. We took Harry to Plas Madoc for the excellent parent and paddler session on a Sunday morning. We bought the necessary inflatable, popped Harry in it and he seemed quite happy bobbing up and down in the water.
Then the wave machine started; Harry was almost instantly submerged by a wave which caught both of us by surprise. Fortunately, Melissa was on hand to pick up the pieces and Harry was soon back to his smiling self – albeit with his trust in me once again thoroughly undermined.
We’re definitely going to persist with the swimming, though, because Harry did seem to enjoy it for the most part. Next time, when the wave machine siren goes, I’ll be a little more careful.
Friday 5 June 2009
All change at feeding time
There's never a dull moment when you're a parent. As soon as you think you've cracked it, everything changes and you're back to square one.The latest dramatic change in Harry's life is feeding.
Now Harry's quite a big baby - he's put on weight regularly since he was born and is now around 20lbs, despite being only 21 weeks old. But this means he's hungry and his bottles just aren't enough for him. So we've now started him on a teaspoon of baby rice with his midday feed.
When we first tried it (bank holiday Monday), Harry screamed as if we'd tried to poison him and spent the next couple of hours looking hurt and making us feel guilty. But thanks to Melissa's persistence, by the end of the week he was thoroughly enjoying his rice and was back to being a happy, settled baby once again – and sleeping through the night, thankfully.
Being in work meant that I'd missed out on most of his progress so last weekend I was really looking forward to seeing him eat (this is the kind of thing that gets me excited these days).
And I have to say, it was magical. Of course there was a bit of mess, but I was amazed at how well he took the food from the spoon and resisted the temptation to spit it straight back out (I've tried some of this baby rice and believe me, I wouldn't have blamed him if he had). Eating's not the only big news this week. Harry has also learned how to roll on to his side. Admittedly this doesn't sound particularly exciting but, having been used to Harry lying on his back, immobile, since he was born, this is a pretty major development.
He’s also found his feet – literally. He will now quite happily spend hours on end grabbing his feet. I can’t see the attraction, but then I’m not supple enough to grab my own feet while sitting down these days, so maybe I’m just jealous.
Either way, I can’t wait for Harry to start moving around properly, although that promises to bring a whole new – stressful – dimension to parenthood.
Now Harry's quite a big baby - he's put on weight regularly since he was born and is now around 20lbs, despite being only 21 weeks old. But this means he's hungry and his bottles just aren't enough for him. So we've now started him on a teaspoon of baby rice with his midday feed.
When we first tried it (bank holiday Monday), Harry screamed as if we'd tried to poison him and spent the next couple of hours looking hurt and making us feel guilty. But thanks to Melissa's persistence, by the end of the week he was thoroughly enjoying his rice and was back to being a happy, settled baby once again – and sleeping through the night, thankfully.
Being in work meant that I'd missed out on most of his progress so last weekend I was really looking forward to seeing him eat (this is the kind of thing that gets me excited these days).
And I have to say, it was magical. Of course there was a bit of mess, but I was amazed at how well he took the food from the spoon and resisted the temptation to spit it straight back out (I've tried some of this baby rice and believe me, I wouldn't have blamed him if he had). Eating's not the only big news this week. Harry has also learned how to roll on to his side. Admittedly this doesn't sound particularly exciting but, having been used to Harry lying on his back, immobile, since he was born, this is a pretty major development.
He’s also found his feet – literally. He will now quite happily spend hours on end grabbing his feet. I can’t see the attraction, but then I’m not supple enough to grab my own feet while sitting down these days, so maybe I’m just jealous.
Either way, I can’t wait for Harry to start moving around properly, although that promises to bring a whole new – stressful – dimension to parenthood.
Monday 1 June 2009
Sleep: part two
AS I’VE said before, sleep becomes something of an obsession when you’re a parent. Not just your own sleep (although that is high on your list of priorities), but your baby’s too.
There’s certainly no shortage of advice on babies’ sleeping habits but, typically, we’ve taken very little notice of this, opting for our own ‘make-it-up-as-you-go-along’ approach.
Until a couple of weeks ago, we’d keep Harry downstairs with us (usually asleep) until we went to bed but we’ve now started putting Harry to bed on his own.
On the face of it, this should have helped us to relax more in the evening. In fact, it has had to opposite effect. Both Melissa and I will sit downstairs listening to the monitor intently in case Harry stirs, meaning we can’t even concentrate enough to watch television.
And we race upstairs at the slightest hint of movement to check on him. All in all, it’s pretty stressful.
We are getting used to it – slowly – just in time to start worrying about when is the right time to move him to his own room.
Official guidance seems to suggest putting babies in their own rooms from about six months onwards. If we follow this advice, that gives me another few weeks of decent sleep – before Melissa starts kicking me in the middle of the night to go and check on Harry.
There’s certainly no shortage of advice on babies’ sleeping habits but, typically, we’ve taken very little notice of this, opting for our own ‘make-it-up-as-you-go-along’ approach.
Until a couple of weeks ago, we’d keep Harry downstairs with us (usually asleep) until we went to bed but we’ve now started putting Harry to bed on his own.
On the face of it, this should have helped us to relax more in the evening. In fact, it has had to opposite effect. Both Melissa and I will sit downstairs listening to the monitor intently in case Harry stirs, meaning we can’t even concentrate enough to watch television.
And we race upstairs at the slightest hint of movement to check on him. All in all, it’s pretty stressful.
We are getting used to it – slowly – just in time to start worrying about when is the right time to move him to his own room.
Official guidance seems to suggest putting babies in their own rooms from about six months onwards. If we follow this advice, that gives me another few weeks of decent sleep – before Melissa starts kicking me in the middle of the night to go and check on Harry.
Thursday 21 May 2009
Am I going soft?
I’VE been getting a bit of stick recently from one or two people who think I’ve gone soft since Harry arrived.
I know this because, during a recent visit to The Trap, one of the regulars, Wyn, told me to stop turning into a woman and start writing about Wrexham Football Club instead. I think he was joking – and anyway, there’s not much to say about events at The Racecourse at the moment, except that I sincerely hope things improve next year.
But Wyn’s comment got me thinking. Have I gone soft now that I’m a parent? Well, I’m not sure. Since having Harry, my whole outlook on life has certainly shifted – I now worry about feeds, baby changing facilities, the ease with which pushchairs fold, and whether we’ve got enough nappies. Naturally enough Harry is number one on my list of priorities. My music collection has also expanded – somewhat against my will – and you’re now as likely to catch me listening to nursery rhymes as Ryan Adams or Radiohead.
Having said all that, I’m still interested in life’s little essentials – a good pint of real ale, Wrexham FC and, of course, cricket – it’s just that they have to fit in with Harry.
Both Melissa and I are starting to relax a bit more now after the initial shock of parenthood. We’ve even left him with the grandparents a couple of times, which was initially a little nerve-wracking but does get easier.
Thankfully, Harry is still a very good baby. As long as he’s fed regularly, he rarely cries (as long as you don’t try and dress him) and he’s usually quite happy bouncing around in his little chair – at least this helps me feel less guilty when we do leave him behind.
Having said that, when we have left Harry, we’ve found ourselves talking about him most of the time anyway; I’m still not sure either of us can quite believe we’re responsible for creating something so, well, amazing.
So maybe I am going soft after all, although I’d rather think of it as becoming a more rounded human being if it’s all the same to you.
I know this because, during a recent visit to The Trap, one of the regulars, Wyn, told me to stop turning into a woman and start writing about Wrexham Football Club instead. I think he was joking – and anyway, there’s not much to say about events at The Racecourse at the moment, except that I sincerely hope things improve next year.
But Wyn’s comment got me thinking. Have I gone soft now that I’m a parent? Well, I’m not sure. Since having Harry, my whole outlook on life has certainly shifted – I now worry about feeds, baby changing facilities, the ease with which pushchairs fold, and whether we’ve got enough nappies. Naturally enough Harry is number one on my list of priorities. My music collection has also expanded – somewhat against my will – and you’re now as likely to catch me listening to nursery rhymes as Ryan Adams or Radiohead.
Having said all that, I’m still interested in life’s little essentials – a good pint of real ale, Wrexham FC and, of course, cricket – it’s just that they have to fit in with Harry.
Both Melissa and I are starting to relax a bit more now after the initial shock of parenthood. We’ve even left him with the grandparents a couple of times, which was initially a little nerve-wracking but does get easier.
Thankfully, Harry is still a very good baby. As long as he’s fed regularly, he rarely cries (as long as you don’t try and dress him) and he’s usually quite happy bouncing around in his little chair – at least this helps me feel less guilty when we do leave him behind.
Having said that, when we have left Harry, we’ve found ourselves talking about him most of the time anyway; I’m still not sure either of us can quite believe we’re responsible for creating something so, well, amazing.
So maybe I am going soft after all, although I’d rather think of it as becoming a more rounded human being if it’s all the same to you.
Tuesday 19 May 2009
Growing up fast
I can’t believe how quickly Harry is changing. The other day I came across some pictures taken shortly after he was born and it’s incredible how much his features have changed and developed already.
I’ve started to notice other changes too. Harry’s now discovered that he controls his hands and he’s becoming quite adept at using them to throw his dummy around, take off his own bib and grab his blanket while attempting to eat it.
Then there are the other, less obvious changes. He’s now much more aware of his surroundings and his eyes follow me when I enter or leave a room (although he still gets far more excited if he spots Melissa).
But Harry’s also decided he doesn’t like some things – and he doesn’t mind letting us know. Two things in particular seem to upset him.
The first is getting dressed in a morning. He’s absolutely fine until you try and put anything on over his head (T-shirt, vest, and so on). Even if he’s been smiling happily for the previous hour, as soon as his head is covered – even for a second – he screams. And boy does he scream. In fact, he screams so much he can hardly breathe, which was pretty scary the first time it happened.
The other major problem in Harry’s life is his car seat. He hates it. As soon as he is put in the seat, he cries, screams and refuses stop until we’ve driven at least two miles in the car.
Melissa says it’s just a phase and he’ll grow out of it soon. I hope she’s right because all the crying has started to make me a bit forgetful– last weekend I managed to get him into his car seat without waking him and was so excited, I almost drove off without Melissa. For once, Harry and his car seat were the least of my troubles.
I’ve started to notice other changes too. Harry’s now discovered that he controls his hands and he’s becoming quite adept at using them to throw his dummy around, take off his own bib and grab his blanket while attempting to eat it.
Then there are the other, less obvious changes. He’s now much more aware of his surroundings and his eyes follow me when I enter or leave a room (although he still gets far more excited if he spots Melissa).
But Harry’s also decided he doesn’t like some things – and he doesn’t mind letting us know. Two things in particular seem to upset him.
The first is getting dressed in a morning. He’s absolutely fine until you try and put anything on over his head (T-shirt, vest, and so on). Even if he’s been smiling happily for the previous hour, as soon as his head is covered – even for a second – he screams. And boy does he scream. In fact, he screams so much he can hardly breathe, which was pretty scary the first time it happened.
The other major problem in Harry’s life is his car seat. He hates it. As soon as he is put in the seat, he cries, screams and refuses stop until we’ve driven at least two miles in the car.
Melissa says it’s just a phase and he’ll grow out of it soon. I hope she’s right because all the crying has started to make me a bit forgetful– last weekend I managed to get him into his car seat without waking him and was so excited, I almost drove off without Melissa. For once, Harry and his car seat were the least of my troubles.
Friday 8 May 2009
Talking babies...
I’m now convinced that Harry has started talking to me.
It may not be in any recognisable language, but I’m sure that his gurgles, shouts, squeaks and squeals are his way of telling me something. What it is, I don’t know, but that’s really beside the point – we’re both quite happy squeaking at each other for hours on end.
And whatever it is he’s saying, Harry’s definitely become more vocal in recent weeks – or, as Melissa puts it, he’s found his voice. I first noticed it in the early hours of the morning a couple of weeks ago. Harry was wide awake and hungry but, instead of his usual sobbing and crying, he was shouting and squeaking, presumably to attract my attention.
Although it doesn’t sound a particularly significant development, I lay there feeling totally in awe of nature. My little boy was almost talking. It was certainly a refreshing change from crying. Goodness knows what I’ll be like when he manages to say something recognisable.
Speaking of which, now that Harry has found his voice, it goes without saying that Melissa and I are locked in battle over that all-important first word.
Whenever Melissa leaves the room, I look Harry in the eye and repeat ‘dad’ over and over again. I have to make up for lost time because I’m convinced that the moment I leave for work, Melissa sits in front of Harry repeating the word ‘mum’ until I return. That gives her five full days advantage over me every week so I’ve got my work cut out.
It’s a competition that will run and run. I’ll let you know who wins the race…
It may not be in any recognisable language, but I’m sure that his gurgles, shouts, squeaks and squeals are his way of telling me something. What it is, I don’t know, but that’s really beside the point – we’re both quite happy squeaking at each other for hours on end.
And whatever it is he’s saying, Harry’s definitely become more vocal in recent weeks – or, as Melissa puts it, he’s found his voice. I first noticed it in the early hours of the morning a couple of weeks ago. Harry was wide awake and hungry but, instead of his usual sobbing and crying, he was shouting and squeaking, presumably to attract my attention.
Although it doesn’t sound a particularly significant development, I lay there feeling totally in awe of nature. My little boy was almost talking. It was certainly a refreshing change from crying. Goodness knows what I’ll be like when he manages to say something recognisable.
Speaking of which, now that Harry has found his voice, it goes without saying that Melissa and I are locked in battle over that all-important first word.
Whenever Melissa leaves the room, I look Harry in the eye and repeat ‘dad’ over and over again. I have to make up for lost time because I’m convinced that the moment I leave for work, Melissa sits in front of Harry repeating the word ‘mum’ until I return. That gives her five full days advantage over me every week so I’ve got my work cut out.
It’s a competition that will run and run. I’ll let you know who wins the race…
Tuesday 5 May 2009
I'm an embarrassing dad already
I’ve noticed something worrying in the last few weeks… I’m already becoming an embarrassing dad.
It’s not good. Throughout Melissa’s pregnancy, I vowed not to be one of those parents that bring shame upon their offspring. You know, the ones who talk in those loud, baby-like gurgling voices to their children. But you know what, that’s exactly what I’ve started to do.
What’s worse is that I don’t care who can hear me. I even caught myself doing it in a busy pub while grabbing a bite to eat during a day out in Llandudno. Poor Melissa looked mortified as a group of people standing at the bar turned round to watch as I tried to coax a smile from Harry by squeaking at him.
As I’ve said before, I’m sure Harry only responds because he enjoys seeing his dad making a fool of himself.
In any case, he’s certainly learning how to play his parents off against each other. The other night, Harry decided to have a bit of a scream. I tried to calm him down by walking around – and failed. Melissa took him off me and played with him while sitting on the sofa; he was smiling happily within seconds.
Half an hour later, Harry was screaming again so I took him back and finally managed to restore some tranquillity after marching around the house (upstairs, downstairs, the kitchen, garden, dining room) for about 15 minutes. As soon as I returned to the lounge and sat down, Harry screamed. The minute I stood up, he dropped off again.
Perhaps he’s getting his own back for having an embarrassing dad, but I can always play my trump card. Now where did I put my socks and sandals?
It’s not good. Throughout Melissa’s pregnancy, I vowed not to be one of those parents that bring shame upon their offspring. You know, the ones who talk in those loud, baby-like gurgling voices to their children. But you know what, that’s exactly what I’ve started to do.
What’s worse is that I don’t care who can hear me. I even caught myself doing it in a busy pub while grabbing a bite to eat during a day out in Llandudno. Poor Melissa looked mortified as a group of people standing at the bar turned round to watch as I tried to coax a smile from Harry by squeaking at him.
As I’ve said before, I’m sure Harry only responds because he enjoys seeing his dad making a fool of himself.
In any case, he’s certainly learning how to play his parents off against each other. The other night, Harry decided to have a bit of a scream. I tried to calm him down by walking around – and failed. Melissa took him off me and played with him while sitting on the sofa; he was smiling happily within seconds.
Half an hour later, Harry was screaming again so I took him back and finally managed to restore some tranquillity after marching around the house (upstairs, downstairs, the kitchen, garden, dining room) for about 15 minutes. As soon as I returned to the lounge and sat down, Harry screamed. The minute I stood up, he dropped off again.
Perhaps he’s getting his own back for having an embarrassing dad, but I can always play my trump card. Now where did I put my socks and sandals?
Tuesday 28 April 2009
Pushchairs and dog mess
Becoming a parent presents many challenges. Some of these are quite straightforward, such as changing nappies; others are more testing, such as how to stop your baby screaming while trying to pay for your shopping in a busy supermarket.
But for me, one of the most eye-opening has been learning to push the pram.
I know it doesn’t sound too problematic but I’d never appreciated just how difficult it is even to get into some shops.
And when you can get in, it’s amazing how narrow the aisles are in some places – I’ve also lost count of the number of people I’ve had to apologise to after accidentally bumping into them while trying to negotiate a particularly tricky special offer display.
The problems don’t end there. Dog mess is a real issue – there’s nothing more annoying than rushing into the house with a hungry baby only to find you’ve left a stinking trail of muck behind you.
Then there are those people who think it’s ok to park their cars across the pavement, leaving you with no choice but to walk on a busy road. It’s not only inconsiderate, it’s also downright dangerous.
But it’s not all bad news. While walking across Chirk Aqueduct last Sunday, we were approached by a dog walker asking if we had any spare nappy bags. “I’ve left my bags at home and I think my dog’s about to go to the toilet,’ she explained.
At least that’s one less pile of dog dirt for me to avoid.
But for me, one of the most eye-opening has been learning to push the pram.
I know it doesn’t sound too problematic but I’d never appreciated just how difficult it is even to get into some shops.
And when you can get in, it’s amazing how narrow the aisles are in some places – I’ve also lost count of the number of people I’ve had to apologise to after accidentally bumping into them while trying to negotiate a particularly tricky special offer display.
The problems don’t end there. Dog mess is a real issue – there’s nothing more annoying than rushing into the house with a hungry baby only to find you’ve left a stinking trail of muck behind you.
Then there are those people who think it’s ok to park their cars across the pavement, leaving you with no choice but to walk on a busy road. It’s not only inconsiderate, it’s also downright dangerous.
But it’s not all bad news. While walking across Chirk Aqueduct last Sunday, we were approached by a dog walker asking if we had any spare nappy bags. “I’ve left my bags at home and I think my dog’s about to go to the toilet,’ she explained.
At least that’s one less pile of dog dirt for me to avoid.
Progress...
THIS week has been a week of major progress. Harry has started sleeping through the night.
I’ve said before that we’ve been lucky with Harry. After the first couple of weeks, he settled into a routine of just one night feed, which was certainly manageable and far better than I expected.
To be honest, the night feeds weren’t too bad (although Melissa might well have a different perspective given that I was only doing two nights a week – Friday and Saturday – compared to her five).
These feeds always seemed to follow a similar pattern: wake to the sound of Harry crying/grumbling; fumble round for a bottle in the dark; drop the bottle on my foot; swear; battle to get the bib round Harry’s neck; give up; then, finally, feed while trying to keep my eyes open.
Thankfully Harry had usually fallen asleep before the end of the bottle so, after winding him of course, he’d be back in his cot and I’d be asleep again within the hour.
But last Tuesday Harry slept through the night without feeding. We put him down at half nine and, although he did stir a couple of times, he didn’t wake up for a feed until about just after six the next morning.
I must admit, I thought it might just be a one-off but, sure enough, the following night he slept through again.
It was one of those too-good-to-be-true moments and Melissa and I are still celebrating more than a week later.
I’ve heard stories from friends about babies who sleep through the night almost from the word go. While that would have been nice, 13 weeks of night feeds isn’t bad. Now if I can just train him to have a lie in at the weekend…
I’ve said before that we’ve been lucky with Harry. After the first couple of weeks, he settled into a routine of just one night feed, which was certainly manageable and far better than I expected.
To be honest, the night feeds weren’t too bad (although Melissa might well have a different perspective given that I was only doing two nights a week – Friday and Saturday – compared to her five).
These feeds always seemed to follow a similar pattern: wake to the sound of Harry crying/grumbling; fumble round for a bottle in the dark; drop the bottle on my foot; swear; battle to get the bib round Harry’s neck; give up; then, finally, feed while trying to keep my eyes open.
Thankfully Harry had usually fallen asleep before the end of the bottle so, after winding him of course, he’d be back in his cot and I’d be asleep again within the hour.
But last Tuesday Harry slept through the night without feeding. We put him down at half nine and, although he did stir a couple of times, he didn’t wake up for a feed until about just after six the next morning.
I must admit, I thought it might just be a one-off but, sure enough, the following night he slept through again.
It was one of those too-good-to-be-true moments and Melissa and I are still celebrating more than a week later.
I’ve heard stories from friends about babies who sleep through the night almost from the word go. While that would have been nice, 13 weeks of night feeds isn’t bad. Now if I can just train him to have a lie in at the weekend…
Friday 10 April 2009
List mania
Melissa’s fond of saying she lost a few brain cells when she had Harry (or words to that effect, anyway). While I’m sure this isn’t the case, Melissa insists she has become more forgetful since Harry was born and, as a result, I’ve noticed a significant increase in the number of lists dotted around house.
Of course, having a baby does tend to put things in perspective and, naturally, Harry’s wellbeing is our top priority; everything else can wait. Or so I thought.
Since Harry was born, I’ve found these lists everywhere. Melissa’s become so organised, she’s even started using the calendar on the computer to help her keep track of what’s going on and when.
Lately, though, the lists have taken on a more worrying dimension: jobs around the house. That I haven’t done.
So far, there are about 10 things I haven’t got round to tackling, including replacing fence panels at the bottom of the garden, putting up a new washing line, and fixing a wardrobe.
While they don’t sound particularly onerous tasks, since Harry arrived, I’ve found myself so wrapped up spending time with him– going for walks and so on – that I haven’t managed to get any jobs done at home.
Unfortunately, this excuse is starting to wear thin; Melissa wants these jobs done, and quickly.So I’m going to have to learn how to get my jobs done while still spending time with Harry.
It’s almost like multitasking – which as any woman will tell you is beyond most men. I’ll let you know how I get on.
Of course, having a baby does tend to put things in perspective and, naturally, Harry’s wellbeing is our top priority; everything else can wait. Or so I thought.
Since Harry was born, I’ve found these lists everywhere. Melissa’s become so organised, she’s even started using the calendar on the computer to help her keep track of what’s going on and when.
Lately, though, the lists have taken on a more worrying dimension: jobs around the house. That I haven’t done.
So far, there are about 10 things I haven’t got round to tackling, including replacing fence panels at the bottom of the garden, putting up a new washing line, and fixing a wardrobe.
While they don’t sound particularly onerous tasks, since Harry arrived, I’ve found myself so wrapped up spending time with him– going for walks and so on – that I haven’t managed to get any jobs done at home.
Unfortunately, this excuse is starting to wear thin; Melissa wants these jobs done, and quickly.So I’m going to have to learn how to get my jobs done while still spending time with Harry.
It’s almost like multitasking – which as any woman will tell you is beyond most men. I’ll let you know how I get on.
Thursday 9 April 2009
Having a baby's good for your health
MAKE no mistake, life with a baby can be a challenge. I was reminded of this last Friday night when Harry filled his nappy while happily bouncing around in his little play-chair.
The result was, well, messy. He’d managed to get poo everywhere – from his armpits to his toes. Now I thought I was pretty good at dealing with dirty nappies but Harry succeeded in making me think again.
Anyway, a rather hurried bath later, normality was restored and I could go back to finishing my tea.
Despite these little episodes, I’d still tell anyone that Harry is the best thing to happen to me.
It’s even beneficial to your fitness. Take Melissa, for instance. Since Harry was born, she’s been walking almost every day.
According to her trusty pedometer, she clocked up more than 36 miles in one week alone. That’s got to be good for you; Melissa’s certainly no couch potato but there’s no way she’d have walked 36 miles in a week before Harry was born.
And it’s not as if having a baby means your social life has to end. Last Saturday, my brother and his wife visited from Nottingham. Usually when my brother visits, we spend all afternoon – and evening – in the pub, drinking.
Of course, having a 12-week old baby means things have to change.
So, instead of going straight to the pub, we went for a walk across Chirk aqueduct, took in some wonderful scenery and bracing fresh air, before stopping for a drink at our friendly local, The Trap (or Bridge Inn, as it’s officially called).
We didn’t stop long, just long enough for a couple of well-earned afternoon drinks – all that fresh air works up a thirst – before heading back up the hill for a takeaway.
So there you have it; don’t let anyone tell you that being a parent is all hard work, even if you do have to deal with the odd dirty nappy.
The result was, well, messy. He’d managed to get poo everywhere – from his armpits to his toes. Now I thought I was pretty good at dealing with dirty nappies but Harry succeeded in making me think again.
Anyway, a rather hurried bath later, normality was restored and I could go back to finishing my tea.
Despite these little episodes, I’d still tell anyone that Harry is the best thing to happen to me.
It’s even beneficial to your fitness. Take Melissa, for instance. Since Harry was born, she’s been walking almost every day.
According to her trusty pedometer, she clocked up more than 36 miles in one week alone. That’s got to be good for you; Melissa’s certainly no couch potato but there’s no way she’d have walked 36 miles in a week before Harry was born.
And it’s not as if having a baby means your social life has to end. Last Saturday, my brother and his wife visited from Nottingham. Usually when my brother visits, we spend all afternoon – and evening – in the pub, drinking.
Of course, having a 12-week old baby means things have to change.
So, instead of going straight to the pub, we went for a walk across Chirk aqueduct, took in some wonderful scenery and bracing fresh air, before stopping for a drink at our friendly local, The Trap (or Bridge Inn, as it’s officially called).
We didn’t stop long, just long enough for a couple of well-earned afternoon drinks – all that fresh air works up a thirst – before heading back up the hill for a takeaway.
So there you have it; don’t let anyone tell you that being a parent is all hard work, even if you do have to deal with the odd dirty nappy.
Thursday 2 April 2009
Smile...
I’ve been trying to avoid sounding too gushing about my son, Harry, in this column.
There are a couple of reasons for this. Firstly, I don’t want my colleagues to think I’ve suddenly gone all soft – that would never do. Secondly, I have been known to complain about proud parents boring people with stories about their amazing offspring.
This week, though, I am going to sound gushing. The reason? Harry’s started to smile. He’s now nine weeks old and is starting to grow up – to my eyes at least – incredibly quickly.
Not only is he heavier – he was 13lb 7oz this week – his features are developing, including his eyebrows which are, apparently, already starting to resemble mine (‘slugs’, Melissa calls them).
Harry’s also started to stay awake between feeds and is now learning how to smile.
It’s an incredible experience watching your child smile at you for the first time. Admittedly it’s usually followed by a scream but, for those precious few seconds, all the usual worries associated with being a new parent disappear.
So trying to get Harry to smile has now become my favourite pastime (even Pro Evolution on the Xbox doesn’t get a look-in these days).
Unfortunately I’ve also discovered that generally he only responds when I talk in a ridiculously high-pitched voice and pull silly faces. Our poor postman must wonder what on earth is going on when he walks past the window.
Perhaps Harry’s doing it on purpose – making dad look silly might be his way of getting his own back for all that nappy changing.
Either way, being silly’s never been so much fun.
There are a couple of reasons for this. Firstly, I don’t want my colleagues to think I’ve suddenly gone all soft – that would never do. Secondly, I have been known to complain about proud parents boring people with stories about their amazing offspring.
This week, though, I am going to sound gushing. The reason? Harry’s started to smile. He’s now nine weeks old and is starting to grow up – to my eyes at least – incredibly quickly.
Not only is he heavier – he was 13lb 7oz this week – his features are developing, including his eyebrows which are, apparently, already starting to resemble mine (‘slugs’, Melissa calls them).
Harry’s also started to stay awake between feeds and is now learning how to smile.
It’s an incredible experience watching your child smile at you for the first time. Admittedly it’s usually followed by a scream but, for those precious few seconds, all the usual worries associated with being a new parent disappear.
So trying to get Harry to smile has now become my favourite pastime (even Pro Evolution on the Xbox doesn’t get a look-in these days).
Unfortunately I’ve also discovered that generally he only responds when I talk in a ridiculously high-pitched voice and pull silly faces. Our poor postman must wonder what on earth is going on when he walks past the window.
Perhaps Harry’s doing it on purpose – making dad look silly might be his way of getting his own back for all that nappy changing.
Either way, being silly’s never been so much fun.
Thursday 19 March 2009
I'm late, I'm late
Until recently, I’d always wondered why my friends with children invariably turned up to engagements late. I must admit, I’d always assumed the ‘it was the kids’ line was simply an excuse for not getting ready on time.
Well, now I know different. Leaving the house is, thanks to Harry, a nightmare. Rather than just getting myself ready, I now have to dress Harry and this is not as simple as it sounds. When Melissa dresses him, he gurgles away happily. When I dress him, he screams.
By the time I’ve managed to get one arm in his jacket, he’s managed to kick off his trousers and boots and we’re almost back to square one.
Then, just when you think you’ve cracked it, Harry will suddenly stop screaming and look at you mischievously… and you just know he’s filled his nappy.
And that’s just the start of it. You still have to pack his bag – spare feeds, nappies, clothes, you name it – before trying to get him in his car seat or pram.
Honestly, I’m so exhausted by the time we’re ready to leave, I’m sometimes tempted to cancel. Trust me, the antenatal classes don’t prepare you for this.
Apparently, ‘it gets easier’ with practice. I certainly hope so. If not, I’d like to apologise now for being late for the next 16 years; it’s all Harry’s fault.
Well, now I know different. Leaving the house is, thanks to Harry, a nightmare. Rather than just getting myself ready, I now have to dress Harry and this is not as simple as it sounds. When Melissa dresses him, he gurgles away happily. When I dress him, he screams.
By the time I’ve managed to get one arm in his jacket, he’s managed to kick off his trousers and boots and we’re almost back to square one.
Then, just when you think you’ve cracked it, Harry will suddenly stop screaming and look at you mischievously… and you just know he’s filled his nappy.
And that’s just the start of it. You still have to pack his bag – spare feeds, nappies, clothes, you name it – before trying to get him in his car seat or pram.
Honestly, I’m so exhausted by the time we’re ready to leave, I’m sometimes tempted to cancel. Trust me, the antenatal classes don’t prepare you for this.
Apparently, ‘it gets easier’ with practice. I certainly hope so. If not, I’d like to apologise now for being late for the next 16 years; it’s all Harry’s fault.
Wednesday 11 March 2009
Sleeping well?
SINCE becoming a dad, everybody wants to know how much sleep I’m getting.
‘Are you getting much sleep at the moment?’ people ask, staring at me accusingly and checking the bags under my eyes. And – so far – I’m always pleased to report that I’m sleeping pretty well, thanks very much.
We’ve been lucky with Harry. He’s now content to go for up to six hours between feeds, which means we’re only getting up once during the night.
I have to say, that’s far better than I expected. The first couple of nights after Harry came out of hospital were tough. Melissa and I hardly slept – a combination of nervousness and excitement – and Harry seemed to pick up on this, crying for long periods.
Despite this, we were so worried about missing a feed that Melissa even set an alarm to wake us after six hours ‘just in case’.
Of course, there was no chance of sleeping six hours at that early stage and I began to understand how a combination of a lack of sleep, together with the weight of responsibility that comes with being a new parent, can make for a fractured atmosphere.
Fortunately, it didn’t last. Melissa discovered the benefits of dummies (or ‘soothers’ to give them their slightly more appealing trade name) and Harry suddenly began to settle more easily at night.
That’s not to say it’s easy, and some nights are certainly more difficult than others. Given the choice, of course I’d rather have eight hours of uninterrupted sleep but, until Harry decides otherwise, it’s simply not an option.
I wouldn’t change it for the world, though, even if it does mean looking just a little bit more tired than I did six months ago.
‘Are you getting much sleep at the moment?’ people ask, staring at me accusingly and checking the bags under my eyes. And – so far – I’m always pleased to report that I’m sleeping pretty well, thanks very much.
We’ve been lucky with Harry. He’s now content to go for up to six hours between feeds, which means we’re only getting up once during the night.
I have to say, that’s far better than I expected. The first couple of nights after Harry came out of hospital were tough. Melissa and I hardly slept – a combination of nervousness and excitement – and Harry seemed to pick up on this, crying for long periods.
Despite this, we were so worried about missing a feed that Melissa even set an alarm to wake us after six hours ‘just in case’.
Of course, there was no chance of sleeping six hours at that early stage and I began to understand how a combination of a lack of sleep, together with the weight of responsibility that comes with being a new parent, can make for a fractured atmosphere.
Fortunately, it didn’t last. Melissa discovered the benefits of dummies (or ‘soothers’ to give them their slightly more appealing trade name) and Harry suddenly began to settle more easily at night.
That’s not to say it’s easy, and some nights are certainly more difficult than others. Given the choice, of course I’d rather have eight hours of uninterrupted sleep but, until Harry decides otherwise, it’s simply not an option.
I wouldn’t change it for the world, though, even if it does mean looking just a little bit more tired than I did six months ago.
Wednesday 25 February 2009
Annoying new parents
I am suffering from annoying new parent syndrome. I can feel it gradually taking over me, but I'm powerless to do anything about it. As soon as somebody so much as asks how the 'little one' is (and, let's face it, most of the time these people are just being polite - we've all been there), I start rambling on about 'my Harry', how much feed he had last night, how he's grown, and so on. I mean, it's not as if I'm the first person this has happened to, is it?
So, here and now, I'd just like to apologise to all those people who have been affected in recent weeks. I should also like to thank my nan for gently pointing out the problem.
She may be 92 but she handled this delicate issue in a way that would have most management consultants reaching straight for their PDA. Rather than dive in with a direct 'please stop going on about being a parent, you're boring me', she presented me with a cutting from a newspaper which featured a columnist pleading with Chris Evans to stop talking about a being a new parent. There was no need for any discussion, the point had been made.
So, with that subtle warning in mind, I've decided to write a column about being a new dad (seriously). However, I promise to try and keep it interesting and, failing that, short.
By the way, while Melissa was in labour, I promised to say something nice about the midwives at the Wrexham Maelor hospital. They were all fantastic, particularly Alison Roberts and Laura who spent 12 hours helping bring Harry into the world while putting up with me hopping from one foot to the next and asking if everything was ok every two minutes. Thanks.
So, here and now, I'd just like to apologise to all those people who have been affected in recent weeks. I should also like to thank my nan for gently pointing out the problem.
She may be 92 but she handled this delicate issue in a way that would have most management consultants reaching straight for their PDA. Rather than dive in with a direct 'please stop going on about being a parent, you're boring me', she presented me with a cutting from a newspaper which featured a columnist pleading with Chris Evans to stop talking about a being a new parent. There was no need for any discussion, the point had been made.
So, with that subtle warning in mind, I've decided to write a column about being a new dad (seriously). However, I promise to try and keep it interesting and, failing that, short.
By the way, while Melissa was in labour, I promised to say something nice about the midwives at the Wrexham Maelor hospital. They were all fantastic, particularly Alison Roberts and Laura who spent 12 hours helping bring Harry into the world while putting up with me hopping from one foot to the next and asking if everything was ok every two minutes. Thanks.
Thursday 5 February 2009
Welcome, Harry
I know it's been a long time since my last post on here, but this time I've got an excuse - I've become a dad.
Harry Benjamin Wright was born at 12.59am on January 19, weighing in at 7lb 14ozs. It was an incredible experience (although I'm not sure Melissa would use quite those words) and I'm now busy attempting to get to grips with the finer points of parenthood.
Even now, nearly three weeks after Harry arrived, it hasn't sunk in properly. Everybody keeps telling me my life will never be the same and I can quite believe it. I do know this for certain, though, I wouldn't change it for the world.
Thursday 8 January 2009
Healthy living... you can keep it thanks
Two of my colleagues in work are currently on a healthy living mission. Quite frankly, it's depressing.
Since January 1, the two of them have been engaged in a challenge to lose weight and get fit. What's worse, they've set targets - one is aiming to lose a stone in a month, the other two stone.
As a result, they've eaten nothing but baked potatoes and fruit, and they've talked about nothing but exercise and calories. And they're not alone - almost everybody I talk to seems to be trying to get healthy at the moment.
This is all very worthy and we've all seen those adverts telling us that we're all doomed because we just sit in front of the television and eat takeaways.
But why January? I know it's the beginning of a new year and we're all feeling a little guilty about the number of mince pies we ate over Christmas, but January's already the most miserable month of the year - it's cold and dark, the festivities are behind you for another year and spring is still a long way off.
So why make it even more miserable by tiring yourself out with exercise and cutting down on unhealthy and, let's face it, good food. There's plenty of time for salad when the summer arrives...
Since January 1, the two of them have been engaged in a challenge to lose weight and get fit. What's worse, they've set targets - one is aiming to lose a stone in a month, the other two stone.
As a result, they've eaten nothing but baked potatoes and fruit, and they've talked about nothing but exercise and calories. And they're not alone - almost everybody I talk to seems to be trying to get healthy at the moment.
This is all very worthy and we've all seen those adverts telling us that we're all doomed because we just sit in front of the television and eat takeaways.
But why January? I know it's the beginning of a new year and we're all feeling a little guilty about the number of mince pies we ate over Christmas, but January's already the most miserable month of the year - it's cold and dark, the festivities are behind you for another year and spring is still a long way off.
So why make it even more miserable by tiring yourself out with exercise and cutting down on unhealthy and, let's face it, good food. There's plenty of time for salad when the summer arrives...
Monday 5 January 2009
I think they're trying to tell me something...
Well, Christmas has been and gone with it's usual selection of parties, over-indulgence and presents.
As I've said before, I love Christmas but this year my enthusiasm was somewhat dented by a recurring theme in the presents that people had bought me: namely, age-defying beauty products.
Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind using moisturiser after shaving. In fact Melissa has accused me - wrongly, I might add - of having more beauty products than she does.
Anyway, I was a little be concerned when, having grabbed my presents from Melissa on Christmas morning, I unwrapped several products which claim to 'firm up tired-looking skin' and 'visibly reduce the appearance of wrinkles'. This is not good as it means people - in this case Melissa - are starting to notice that I'm getting older.
My misery was compounded when I discovered mum and dad had bought me products from the same range. I mean, if my parents think I'm starting to look old, what hope is there?
Looking on the bright side, though, I've now got so many 'age-defying' products that if I use them all, I should look about 21 this time next year. Unfortunately, I doubt I'll feel like it.
As I've said before, I love Christmas but this year my enthusiasm was somewhat dented by a recurring theme in the presents that people had bought me: namely, age-defying beauty products.
Now don't get me wrong, I don't mind using moisturiser after shaving. In fact Melissa has accused me - wrongly, I might add - of having more beauty products than she does.
Anyway, I was a little be concerned when, having grabbed my presents from Melissa on Christmas morning, I unwrapped several products which claim to 'firm up tired-looking skin' and 'visibly reduce the appearance of wrinkles'. This is not good as it means people - in this case Melissa - are starting to notice that I'm getting older.
My misery was compounded when I discovered mum and dad had bought me products from the same range. I mean, if my parents think I'm starting to look old, what hope is there?
Looking on the bright side, though, I've now got so many 'age-defying' products that if I use them all, I should look about 21 this time next year. Unfortunately, I doubt I'll feel like it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
