Just over 12 months ago, we went abroad for a holiday with Harry. It was good but Melissa in particular found the whole thing a bit stressful. In fact, she found it so stressful, she declared afterwards that we wouldn’t be setting foot on an aeroplane for at least four years.
Thankfully, after another bitterly cold winter, her resolve weakened and a couple of weeks ago we jetted off for some sunshine in Tenerife.
Of course, Harry’s changed a great deal in the last year – we didn’t need to worry about his food or drink this time around, which immediately made things a great deal easier. The fact that Harry is now much more content playing with his toys also made things much more straightforward on the four-and-a-half hour flight.
We spent most of the week either on the beach or playing about in the sea or swimming pool, which suited me down to the ground; my sandcastle building skills were quite impressive by the end of the week.
Melissa’s mum and dad also came with us – and there’s no doubt that having grandparents on hand helped Melissa and myself relax. As much as we both love Harry, it’s also nice to have an hour’s rest now and again, if only to get your breath back. It still amazes how much energy a two year old has.
It wasn’t all plain sailing though – literally in Harry’s case as I managed to tip him off an inflatable and into the sea, quite by accident. I was then public enemy number one for a good half hour and boy did I feel guilty when he looked at me afterwards with an expression that said: “I trusted you, how could you let me fall off?”
Still, Harry doesn’t hold grudges and he was soon back to digging sandcastles on the beach. Now I can’t wait until our next holiday – in Yorkshire. I just hope the weather’s as good so I can brush up on those sandcastle building skills.
Friday 15 April 2011
Thursday 14 April 2011
Bad news for ducks
I wrote recently about Harry picking up bad habits. Well, he’s got another and it’s not good news – particularly for ducks.
Let me explain. Harry has always enjoyed going to feed the ducks, even if he is a bit reluctant to hand over the bread most of the time (he prefers to eat it himself).
However, when we visited the Mere in Ellesmere a couple of weeks ago, his attitude had changed. Instead of throwing bread towards the swans, Harry charged towards them shouting ‘Shoo!’ at the top of his voice. As if that wasn’t enough, he also started swinging his leg as if he was about to aim a kick at them.
I grabbed him, of course, and gave him a ticking off, although I must admit, it was difficult to keep a straight face. I then told him to say sorry to the ducks, which he did – reluctantly.
Within minutes, however, he was chasing the swans again, shouting ‘shoo!’
By this time, we were drawing disapproving glances from other people, and one family – feeding the ducks without incident – looked particularly unimpressed.
We swiftly moved on to the playground – thankfully a duck free zone – before we were escorted from the mere side.
I’ve since been doing my best Poirot impersonation, trying to find out who he’s copying but so far my investigation has proved fruitless – and Harry’s not for telling me either.
Whoever’s responsible, though, it’s clear that feeding the ducks with Harry will never be a very relaxing experience.
Let me explain. Harry has always enjoyed going to feed the ducks, even if he is a bit reluctant to hand over the bread most of the time (he prefers to eat it himself).
However, when we visited the Mere in Ellesmere a couple of weeks ago, his attitude had changed. Instead of throwing bread towards the swans, Harry charged towards them shouting ‘Shoo!’ at the top of his voice. As if that wasn’t enough, he also started swinging his leg as if he was about to aim a kick at them.
I grabbed him, of course, and gave him a ticking off, although I must admit, it was difficult to keep a straight face. I then told him to say sorry to the ducks, which he did – reluctantly.
Within minutes, however, he was chasing the swans again, shouting ‘shoo!’
By this time, we were drawing disapproving glances from other people, and one family – feeding the ducks without incident – looked particularly unimpressed.
We swiftly moved on to the playground – thankfully a duck free zone – before we were escorted from the mere side.
I’ve since been doing my best Poirot impersonation, trying to find out who he’s copying but so far my investigation has proved fruitless – and Harry’s not for telling me either.
Whoever’s responsible, though, it’s clear that feeding the ducks with Harry will never be a very relaxing experience.
Flattery?
IF imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery, then we must be doing something right with Harry.
He mimics just about everything we do, from facial expressions to phrases, leaving us in fits of laughter most of the time.
Melissa, for instance, has a habit of shrugging her shoulders when she says ‘don’t know’. Harry has now developed the same habit, although in his case, it’s basically a stock answer when he’s challenged about why something is broken.
Harry’s also got a great ‘hurt’ look that he must have copied from somewhere (I blame Melissa), which he employs very effectively if we say no to him. It’s often accompanied by a ‘please…’ which, as he’s well aware, makes you feel like a terrible parent.
My personal favourite, however, is Harry mimicking me having a shave. Harry stands on the toilet, toothbrush in hand, dipping it in the water and scraping it along his face every time I pick up the razor. It’s hilarious, if a bit messy.
Of course, we’re also conscious that Harry will also pick up any of our bad habits, and Melissa and I have to be on our toes constantly to make sure we don’t say anything out of turn in his earshot.
My brother, Barry, who loves nothing more than making mischief, managed to cause trouble when he visited my mum and dad recently. Barry – despite protests from my mum warning that Harry would copy – decided it would be a good idea to sit on the coffee table.
Harry, who hadn’t shown any interest in the table previously, was soon sat on it – proud as punch – with his feet up, grinning wickedly at my poor mum. And I can tell you with absolute certainty Harry knew exactly what he was doing.
He mimics just about everything we do, from facial expressions to phrases, leaving us in fits of laughter most of the time.
Melissa, for instance, has a habit of shrugging her shoulders when she says ‘don’t know’. Harry has now developed the same habit, although in his case, it’s basically a stock answer when he’s challenged about why something is broken.
Harry’s also got a great ‘hurt’ look that he must have copied from somewhere (I blame Melissa), which he employs very effectively if we say no to him. It’s often accompanied by a ‘please…’ which, as he’s well aware, makes you feel like a terrible parent.
My personal favourite, however, is Harry mimicking me having a shave. Harry stands on the toilet, toothbrush in hand, dipping it in the water and scraping it along his face every time I pick up the razor. It’s hilarious, if a bit messy.
Of course, we’re also conscious that Harry will also pick up any of our bad habits, and Melissa and I have to be on our toes constantly to make sure we don’t say anything out of turn in his earshot.
My brother, Barry, who loves nothing more than making mischief, managed to cause trouble when he visited my mum and dad recently. Barry – despite protests from my mum warning that Harry would copy – decided it would be a good idea to sit on the coffee table.
Harry, who hadn’t shown any interest in the table previously, was soon sat on it – proud as punch – with his feet up, grinning wickedly at my poor mum. And I can tell you with absolute certainty Harry knew exactly what he was doing.
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