Christmas chaos

IT'S remarkable how excited I was about a plate of mashed potato and baked beans.

But to see Harry tucking into his food after struggling with a stomach upset for more than a week was a great feeling. He'd barely eaten anything for four or five days and both Melissa and I were getting increasingly concerned at the amount of weight he'd lost.

Needless to say, Harry's illness did take some of the shine of Christmas. With him being off colour, Christmas Day was a more sedate affair than it would have been otherwise.

Having said that, I'm not sure Melissa or myself had enough energy to do anything else – with Harry being poorly, we hadn't been able to sleep properly so we were shattered too.

While it wasn't exactly the Christmas we had planned, we still had a good time. Harry was up at six on Christmas Day and the look on his face when he opened the living room door to see his new train set was magical. “Look dad, Father Christmas has left me a train set,” he shouted while hopping from one foot to the other with excitement.

I'd set the train set up on Christmas Eve – and, as usual, it had taken me a bit longer than anticipated. Needless to say, Melissa found the whole episode very amusing as I tried to decipher instructions that might as well have been written in a foreign language. Of course, it was worth it to see that reaction on Christmas Day.

By the end of the day, though Harry was absolutely exhausted – a combination of excitement and the effects of the virus – and he was asleep before six.

Unfortunately, yet another bout of sickness led to a trip to the out of hours service at the Maelor at half eleven that evening. We were worried about dehydration, but an extremely cheerful doctor reassured us after a thorough check that there was nothing to worry about. Thankfully, Harry seems to be over the worst of it now – and his appetite has certainly returned.

As I say, it may not have been the Christmas had planned, but I doubt we'll forget it in a hurry.

Christmas excitement

AS anticipated, Christmas is causing a great deal of excitement in the Wright household.

Every day, without fail, Harry asks me if it's Christmas yet. It's the Advent calendar that's responsible for most of the fun and games, though – and restricting Harry to one chocolate per day is proving to be a difficult task.

But it's not just Harry who's getting swept up in the festive spirit. Melissa, as usual, is torturing us with endless compilations of Christmas music, while the house is filled to bursting with decorations. Honestly, I can't open a kitchen cupboard without disturbing twinkle lights or a bauble at the moment.

Despite this, I am excited about the big day. In particular, I can't wait to set up Harry's new train set (Thomas the Tank of course). There's no doubt that having children really brings out the big kid in you.

Having said that, this train set is already causing problems. When I asked Harry what he wanted for Christmas (probably in early November), he said he wanted a train set. Being organised, we decided to take advantage of a half price offer and bought one.

Typically, when we took Harry to a grotto a few days later, he told Father Christmas he wanted a racing car set. What do you do? I have tried dropping a few hints about how nice a new train set would be but so far Harry's not budging. “I want a racing car set daddy,” is his stock response.

I'm just hoping he isn't too disappointed on Christmas morning when he finds he's actually got a train set instead. And if he is, at least I'll enjoy playing with it.

One thing's for sure, I'll hold off buying presents until the last minute next year.

The magic of Christmas

I’ve always loved Christmas but now Harry’s on the scene, it’s better than ever. And despite the early start this year – Harry had us downstairs opening presents at half past six – there was something magical about Christmas morning.

Although Harry is a bit too young to understand what Christmas is all about, he definitely knew that something was going on.

We took him to the carol service at Chirk Methodist Church on Christmas Eve and he sat rapt while the vicar related the story of the Nativity. Harry sitting still for half an hour is quite remarkable in itself, and the occasion certainly added to the festive feeling in the Wright household.

On Christmas Day itself, Melissa dashed downstairs ahead of us and laid Harry’s presents out across the front room floor. His reaction when he walked in was brilliant. He kept shouting ‘wow’, before tearing into the wrapping paper, and shouting ‘wow’ again and again.

Then it was up to me to get the toys out of the packaging – which is easier said than done, especially with an eager toddler on your shoulder. One toy even had to be unscrewed from its packaging, which is surely taking security a bit too far.

Anyway, after half an hour or so, Harry had unwrapped all of his presents and, despite the array of new toys to play with, was only interested in one thing: unwrapping more Christmas presents.

By the time we’d visited the grandparents, Harry was exhausted. Needless to say he was fast asleep by half six in the evening, which at least gave Melissa and I the chance to catch our breath.

Of course, next year things will be different again and Harry will be even more excited. I can’t wait.

Painting

I’m a very proud man. I’ve just been given my first painting from Harry and it is now stuck proudly to my office wall.

I’m not sure what my colleagues make of my greeny-black splodge, and I’ll admit it is, how can I put this, a little bit abstract, but it means the world to me. It is sitting next to the half a dozen carefully selected pictures of Harry that – and I apologise in advance for sounding a bit soppy – bring a smile to my face whenever I’m at my desk.

Harry does love getting mucky and painting fits the bill perfectly. I tried it the other evening and after 15 minutes, Harry had paint all over his hands, face, arms and hair. The kitchen floor was also liberally splattered with paint.

Mind you, that was fairly tame compared to Melissa’s Christmas card making experiment. I only saw the aftermath, but there was glitter everywhere and, as I’ve now discovered, it’s incredibly difficult to get rid of.

Having said that, the cards looked good in the end and Harry’s obviously very proud of his handiwork. Whenever he spots one of the cards he helped make, he shouts ‘Harry’ and points excitedly at his chest.

Speaking of Christmas, Harry is still a little bit too young to understand what it’s all about but he does now recognise Santa. He also does impressions of him, saying ‘ho ho ho’ whenever he spots a Father Christmas.

But when he met Father Christmas on Llangollen Railway’s Santa Special, Harry suddenly went very shy. And when he was asked what he’d like for Christmas, Harry replied “ham”. It’s an unusual request, but I think Santa might be able to manage that one.

Let it snow...

Harry’s got a new favourite word: snow. With the wintry weather we’ve been enjoying (if that’s the right word), Harry’s had plenty of opportunity to see snow first hand and he loves it.

When it started snowing last Friday, Melissa said that Harry was absolutely fascinated, sitting in the window watching it until it was dark. He was still excited when I arrived home from work, running to greet me shouting ‘snow’ as I walked through the door.

But while watching the snow is one thing, letting Harry go outside to play in it is an altogether more complicated process, requiring wrapping him up in so many layers that he can hardly walk. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to mind; the only problem is that if he falls over, he can’t get himself upright again.

Of course I was all for taking him sledging but, as he’s had a bit of a cough lately, commonsense (or Melissa, more precisely) prevailed, so it looks like I’ll have to wait a bit longer.

Anyway, the cold weather has got Melissa feeling festive and Sunday saw us putting up the Christmas decorations. Harry was keen to help, but struggled to spot the difference between baubles and a football; Melissa wasn’t impressed as he kicked them around the living room. Apparently that was my fault.

Apart from the baubles, though, Harry was surprisingly gentle with the decorations. I say surprisingly because I was very concerned about mixing Harry with decorations – it’s not exactly a match made in heaven.

Harry is still – thankfully – a bit too young to understand what Christmas is all about so although he was certainly excited about the decorations, sleepless nights until December 25 shouldn’t be a problem.

Something tells me things will be very different this time next year, though.

So that was Christmas

Harry’s first Christmas was every bit as enjoyable as we’d all hoped. I think it’s safe to say Harry had a great time even if he was, as expected, more interested in the boxes than the presents inside.

And he certainly wasn’t short of boxes by the end of the day. Melissa and I decided before Christmas that we wouldn’t go overboard with presents – he’s still a little too young to know what’s going on.

Having said that, it did require a fair amount of restraint on my part not to go mad when we did some last minute shopping.

Fortunately, Melissa, the voice of reason as ever, persuaded me not to buy the castle and train set I’d set my sights on.

Anyway, Harry got a trike and mini-trampoline from us. Building them was a bit of an ordeal – I didn’t realise how much assembly was involved – but, after a trapped finger and some angry muttering, I managed it.

Melissa wrapped the presents in the hope that Harry would tear the paper off as soon as he saw them; unfortunately he was more interested in having a bite of my toast on Christmas morning.

Then the family arrived. Harry’s incredibly generous nans, grandads, uncle and aunties, as well as our friends and relatives, all ensured he now has enough toys to keep him occupied until he’s about five – and our conservatory is still knee-deep in wrapping paper and boxes to prove it.

In fact, Harry had so much to play with, he didn’t know what to do next. He was absolutely shattered by tea time but he wasn’t the only one – Melissa somehow managed to prepare a delicious meal for 12 despite the chaos around her.

I was also ready for bed by 10pm, although I’m sure Melissa will tell you that had more to do with drinking beer in the afternoon than hard work. It’s not true of course; it was just the emotion of Harry’s first, magical Christmas. Roll on next year.

Harry's first Christmas

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?

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.

Christmas

I love Christmas. It's not particularly fashionable to say so, but I can't help it. Every year I get excited even though, at the age of 32, I should be past being excited at the prospect of opening presents.

However, there's one element of the festive season I could happily live without - the music. Now don't get me wrong, there's nothing inherently wrong with Christmas music (The Pogues' Fairytale of New York is, without doubt, one of the best songs ever recorded). It's just that listening to the same 20 or so songs over and over again, every day for a month, is enough to drive to anyone to distraction.

Unfortunately for me, Melissa doesn't feel the same way. She loves Christmas (like me) but also loves the music (unlike me). This means that, for the next few weeks, there will be a battle in the Wright household between my music (at the moment this consists largely of Belle and Sebastian's extensive back catalogue) and Melissa's Christmas CDs. Somehow, I doubt it will be an even contest.