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.