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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.