I’ve just had my first official ‘bad day’ with Harry. Nothing terrible happened but, for the first time, I’ve experienced the sort of day that leaves Melissa looking shell-shocked when I get home from work.
Up to now, whenever I’ve looked after Harry he’s behaved like a little angel – sleeping when he’s supposed to, eating when he’s supposed to, and generally allowing me to look after him while getting on with one or two jobs around the house.
Last Saturday, however, Harry gave me some first-hand experience of what makes him such a handful at times. It started well enough. He woke about half six and ate his breakfast as usual.
We then played for an hour and, up to the point Melissa left at about eight o’clock, it was a case of so far, so good. Then the fun started.
I was expecting Harry to settle down for a sleep about half nine and put Noddy on television to encourage him to sit down quietly. My plan was to let him have a sleep, then take him to visit my grandad and my nan. No chance.
To begin with my strategy looked promising but, by ten o’clock, he was still wide awake. An hour and a half later, after a manic morning of chasing round the house, I decided to give him lunch. This was, to be blunt, a disaster and there were soon peas, mashed potato and fish fingers flying around the kitchen. By the time I’d managed to get him to eat something, Harry was practically asleep in his high chair.
Thankfully, he did go down in his cot for a couple of hours, but I was so shattered by this point I abandoned all thoughts of housework and had some lunch instead. I even considered having a quick nap myself; I felt like I needed it.
Eventually we did manage to go visiting and Harry settled down for the rest of the day. However, I now understand that all plans are subject to Harry’s whims.
Of course, he was fast asleep by the time Melissa got home about half seven. Something tells me she was rather pleased I’d had a tough day.
Friday 27 August 2010
Friday 20 August 2010
In training...
One of the great things about having children is that they stop you being lazy. On Sunday, I was having a cup of tea after breakfast and looking forward to a relaxing day at home when Melissa suddenly said ‘Why don’t we go to the beach?’
Twenty minutes later, we were all loaded up and heading to Fairbourne, near Barmouth. By 10am, we were soaking up glorious sunshine on a practically deserted beach.
Harry quickly assumed the role of foreman, ordering Melissa and me to build sandcastles. Any slacking was punished with a shout from Harry and a determined prod.
In between all the sandcastle building, it struck me again just how impressive Fairbourne beach is, with its stunning backdrop and endless sand. I’m always puzzled why this part of the world is not packed when the weather’s good. Still, being so quiet suited us and Harry had plenty of freedom to run around the sand, and splash through the rock pools.
After an hour or so of this, Harry plucked up enough courage to head towards the sea. Although a little nervous at first, he was soon wading into the water – shorts and all. Seconds later, he was sat down splashing away in the waves, absolutely wet through.
He didn’t want to get out but, fortunately, the sound of one of the steam trains on Fairboune’s narrow gauge railway made the job a lot easier.
I’ve mentioned in this column before that Harry is turning out to be quite a fan of Thomas the Tank Engine, so you can imagine his excitement when confronted by a real steam engine.
Of course, we had to have a go and Harry spent the journey hanging out the side of the carriage shouting ‘toot toot’ at the top of his voice, with me hanging on to him by his reins. Needless to say, he had a soot-covered face by the end of the journey.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable day – and to think I’d planned to sit around at home instead.
Twenty minutes later, we were all loaded up and heading to Fairbourne, near Barmouth. By 10am, we were soaking up glorious sunshine on a practically deserted beach.
Harry quickly assumed the role of foreman, ordering Melissa and me to build sandcastles. Any slacking was punished with a shout from Harry and a determined prod.
In between all the sandcastle building, it struck me again just how impressive Fairbourne beach is, with its stunning backdrop and endless sand. I’m always puzzled why this part of the world is not packed when the weather’s good. Still, being so quiet suited us and Harry had plenty of freedom to run around the sand, and splash through the rock pools.
After an hour or so of this, Harry plucked up enough courage to head towards the sea. Although a little nervous at first, he was soon wading into the water – shorts and all. Seconds later, he was sat down splashing away in the waves, absolutely wet through.
He didn’t want to get out but, fortunately, the sound of one of the steam trains on Fairboune’s narrow gauge railway made the job a lot easier.
I’ve mentioned in this column before that Harry is turning out to be quite a fan of Thomas the Tank Engine, so you can imagine his excitement when confronted by a real steam engine.
Of course, we had to have a go and Harry spent the journey hanging out the side of the carriage shouting ‘toot toot’ at the top of his voice, with me hanging on to him by his reins. Needless to say, he had a soot-covered face by the end of the journey.
It was a thoroughly enjoyable day – and to think I’d planned to sit around at home instead.
Friday 13 August 2010
When I went to tuck Harry in the other day, it suddenly struck me how much he has changed in the last few months. There he was, stretched out, filling his cot, looking like a little boy, not the baby of eight or nine months ago.
Because he was fast asleep, I was able to stand and study him and I found myself – not for the first time – feeling very humble about how nature works.
But while I sometimes get misty-eyed about things, Harry has no such concerns. He’s a bundle of energy from the moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to bed – minus his couple of increasingly brief naps during the day.
However, I have noticed that his concentration span is starting to increase, and he’s playing with his toys properly now. For example, a few months ago his little wooden Thomas the Tank Engine train set was used primarily as a weapon; now he will lie down next to the track and gently push the trains around it. Although this doesn’t last long, it is fascinating to watch how he is changing.
Of course, he still likes playing with things he shouldn’t, and his latest obsession is my desktop computer. He likes to sit in the chair, playing with the mouse and tapping away at the keyboard. It’s a comical sight, although it has resulted in the computer becoming increasingly temperamental in recent weeks.
Then there’s the vacuum cleaner. Harry still gets worryingly excited whenever he spots it, shouting ‘Hoover’ as loudly as possible, clapping his hands and hopping from one foot to the other.
Sometimes he will follow me around the house with his own toy vacuum cleaner; at other times, he grabs a duster and the polish does his best to help with the cleaning. I just hope he remembers all this in five years time when we want him to tidy his room.
Because he was fast asleep, I was able to stand and study him and I found myself – not for the first time – feeling very humble about how nature works.
But while I sometimes get misty-eyed about things, Harry has no such concerns. He’s a bundle of energy from the moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to bed – minus his couple of increasingly brief naps during the day.
However, I have noticed that his concentration span is starting to increase, and he’s playing with his toys properly now. For example, a few months ago his little wooden Thomas the Tank Engine train set was used primarily as a weapon; now he will lie down next to the track and gently push the trains around it. Although this doesn’t last long, it is fascinating to watch how he is changing.
Of course, he still likes playing with things he shouldn’t, and his latest obsession is my desktop computer. He likes to sit in the chair, playing with the mouse and tapping away at the keyboard. It’s a comical sight, although it has resulted in the computer becoming increasingly temperamental in recent weeks.
Then there’s the vacuum cleaner. Harry still gets worryingly excited whenever he spots it, shouting ‘Hoover’ as loudly as possible, clapping his hands and hopping from one foot to the other.
Sometimes he will follow me around the house with his own toy vacuum cleaner; at other times, he grabs a duster and the polish does his best to help with the cleaning. I just hope he remembers all this in five years time when we want him to tidy his room.
When I went to tuck Harry in the other day, it suddenly struck me how much he has changed in the last few months. There he was, stretched out, filling his cot, looking like a little boy, not the baby of eight or nine months ago.
Because he was fast asleep, I was able to stand and study him and I found myself – not for the first time – feeling very humble about how nature works.
But while I sometimes get misty-eyed about things, Harry has no such concerns. He’s a bundle of energy from the moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to bed – minus his couple of increasingly brief naps during the day.
However, I have noticed that his concentration span is starting to increase, and he’s playing with his toys properly now. For example, a few months ago his little wooden Thomas the Tank Engine train set was used primarily as a weapon; now he will lie down next to the track and gently push the trains around it. Although this doesn’t last long, it is fascinating to watch how he is changing.
Of course, he still likes playing with things he shouldn’t, and his latest obsession is my desktop computer. He likes to sit in the chair, playing with the mouse and tapping away at the keyboard. It’s a comical sight, although it has resulted in the computer becoming increasingly temperamental in recent weeks.
Then there’s the vacuum cleaner. Harry still gets worryingly excited whenever he spots it, shouting ‘Hoover’ as loudly as possible, clapping his hands and hopping from one foot to the other.
Sometimes he will follow me around the house with his own toy vacuum cleaner; at other times, he grabs a duster and the polish does his best to help with the cleaning. I just hope he remembers all this in five years time when we want him to tidy his room.
Because he was fast asleep, I was able to stand and study him and I found myself – not for the first time – feeling very humble about how nature works.
But while I sometimes get misty-eyed about things, Harry has no such concerns. He’s a bundle of energy from the moment he wakes up to the moment he goes to bed – minus his couple of increasingly brief naps during the day.
However, I have noticed that his concentration span is starting to increase, and he’s playing with his toys properly now. For example, a few months ago his little wooden Thomas the Tank Engine train set was used primarily as a weapon; now he will lie down next to the track and gently push the trains around it. Although this doesn’t last long, it is fascinating to watch how he is changing.
Of course, he still likes playing with things he shouldn’t, and his latest obsession is my desktop computer. He likes to sit in the chair, playing with the mouse and tapping away at the keyboard. It’s a comical sight, although it has resulted in the computer becoming increasingly temperamental in recent weeks.
Then there’s the vacuum cleaner. Harry still gets worryingly excited whenever he spots it, shouting ‘Hoover’ as loudly as possible, clapping his hands and hopping from one foot to the other.
Sometimes he will follow me around the house with his own toy vacuum cleaner; at other times, he grabs a duster and the polish does his best to help with the cleaning. I just hope he remembers all this in five years time when we want him to tidy his room.
Monday 9 August 2010
Football and dancing
I’m always very proud when people say Harry looks like me. I’m not sure why exactly, but whenever anybody comments on the resemblance (even if it is Harry’s hairline) I find myself smiling away as if somebody has just paid me a compliment.
However, I’m realistic enough to know that Harry being a carbon copy of me wouldn’t be a good thing, particularly when it comes to dancing. Thankfully, Harry seems to have inherited his mum’s sense of rhythm.
Whenever he hears music, Harry immediately starts bobbing up and down, hopping from one leg to the other, spinning around and waving his arms wildly. He also likes to grab people to dance with him and gets particularly excited when he hears the theme tunes to his favourite television programmes, Chuggington and Thomas and Friends.
It also turns out he’s a bit of a fan of sixties music. When he goes to my mum’s for the day, he makes a beeline for the hi-fi. Bend it, by Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Titch seems to be his favourite. Even my nan gets up to dance with him at the grand old age of 94. It’s a remarkable sight.
But Harry’s dancing is not without its problems. Melissa and I took him to a charity tea dance last weekend and he was so keen to join in, he kept running in between couples who were taking the dancing very seriously. They didn’t really see the funny side, unlike Harry who had the time of his life tearing around the dancefloor while I ran round after him trying in vain to keep him out of trouble.
Dancing apart, he’s also developing some pretty impressive football skills. I’ve no idea where he gets these from (it’s certainly not from me – I didn’t even make the primary school team), but he loves running around with a ball at his feet before kicking it as hard as he can at somebody or something. It’s impressive stuff from an 18-month-old.
My aim now is to teach him the basics of cricket. It could be dangerous.
However, I’m realistic enough to know that Harry being a carbon copy of me wouldn’t be a good thing, particularly when it comes to dancing. Thankfully, Harry seems to have inherited his mum’s sense of rhythm.
Whenever he hears music, Harry immediately starts bobbing up and down, hopping from one leg to the other, spinning around and waving his arms wildly. He also likes to grab people to dance with him and gets particularly excited when he hears the theme tunes to his favourite television programmes, Chuggington and Thomas and Friends.
It also turns out he’s a bit of a fan of sixties music. When he goes to my mum’s for the day, he makes a beeline for the hi-fi. Bend it, by Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Titch seems to be his favourite. Even my nan gets up to dance with him at the grand old age of 94. It’s a remarkable sight.
But Harry’s dancing is not without its problems. Melissa and I took him to a charity tea dance last weekend and he was so keen to join in, he kept running in between couples who were taking the dancing very seriously. They didn’t really see the funny side, unlike Harry who had the time of his life tearing around the dancefloor while I ran round after him trying in vain to keep him out of trouble.
Dancing apart, he’s also developing some pretty impressive football skills. I’ve no idea where he gets these from (it’s certainly not from me – I didn’t even make the primary school team), but he loves running around with a ball at his feet before kicking it as hard as he can at somebody or something. It’s impressive stuff from an 18-month-old.
My aim now is to teach him the basics of cricket. It could be dangerous.
Tuesday 3 August 2010
Hold on to your hair
When Harry arrived on the scene 18 months ago, I joked with friends that I would be grey with worry within two years. I was wrong. I will be bald and grey.
My hair is changing colour rapidly. Until Harry was born, I had one or two grey hairs; now I have dozens. At this rate, I will be completely grey by the time I reach 35.
And baldness might also be an issue, but not just because of the worry. Harry has decided he likes being carried around on my shoulders when we go for a walk.
Things are fine until he starts grabbing my hair. When we walked around Alyn Waters the other day, a good few handfuls of my hair were removed before Harry got bored of the ‘make daddy look silly game’.
Seriously, though, this being a dad thing is hard work. Melissa and I took Harry on the playgroup trip to a theme park called Wonderland in Telford last week and I spent the whole day chasing him around.
In fact, I was so worn out when we got on the bus to go home, I joined Harry in having a quick nap, much to Melissa’s amusement.
The trip was great fun, however, and there was one particularly memorable moment when Harry went on a ride called the ‘White Rabbit’ by himself.
It wasn’t a very fast ride – basically a car going around a flat track. Adults weren’t allowed on, so I strapped Harry in and off he went, making a ‘brrrmmm’ sound while hanging on to the steering wheel.
It sounds daft now, but seeing Harry sat there on his own, looking so proud, was incredibly emotional.
Initially, Melissa wasn’t keen on the idea of letting Harry go by himself but she soon got over it when she saw how much he enjoyed the ride – and how well behaved he was. In fact he enjoyed it so much, it took us 15 minutes to prise him off.
The whole episode brought home to me just how quickly Harry’s growing up and it made me even more determined to enjoy every minute of being with him – even if it does have an undesirable effect on my hairline.
My hair is changing colour rapidly. Until Harry was born, I had one or two grey hairs; now I have dozens. At this rate, I will be completely grey by the time I reach 35.
And baldness might also be an issue, but not just because of the worry. Harry has decided he likes being carried around on my shoulders when we go for a walk.
Things are fine until he starts grabbing my hair. When we walked around Alyn Waters the other day, a good few handfuls of my hair were removed before Harry got bored of the ‘make daddy look silly game’.
Seriously, though, this being a dad thing is hard work. Melissa and I took Harry on the playgroup trip to a theme park called Wonderland in Telford last week and I spent the whole day chasing him around.
In fact, I was so worn out when we got on the bus to go home, I joined Harry in having a quick nap, much to Melissa’s amusement.
The trip was great fun, however, and there was one particularly memorable moment when Harry went on a ride called the ‘White Rabbit’ by himself.
It wasn’t a very fast ride – basically a car going around a flat track. Adults weren’t allowed on, so I strapped Harry in and off he went, making a ‘brrrmmm’ sound while hanging on to the steering wheel.
It sounds daft now, but seeing Harry sat there on his own, looking so proud, was incredibly emotional.
Initially, Melissa wasn’t keen on the idea of letting Harry go by himself but she soon got over it when she saw how much he enjoyed the ride – and how well behaved he was. In fact he enjoyed it so much, it took us 15 minutes to prise him off.
The whole episode brought home to me just how quickly Harry’s growing up and it made me even more determined to enjoy every minute of being with him – even if it does have an undesirable effect on my hairline.
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