LAST Sunday encapsulated what being a parent is all about: it can give you a feeling of pure joy that is unmatched by anything I’ve ever experienced (I know it sounds gushing, but it’s the truth); it can also leave you stressed worried and shattered. And that’s what happened last weekend.
Things started off in remarkable fashion - Harry took his first step. Melissa and I were sat on the sofa with mugs of tea enjoying a lazy Sunday morning. Harry was playing on the floor when he decided to stand up. On this occasion, though, he didn’t just sit down again - he stepped towards us.
Melissa and I looked at each other in shock – we simply weren’t expecting it. It was an incredible moment, and I’m absolutely delighted I was there to witness it.
Of course, we spent the rest of the day hoping he would do it again. He did, once.
Anyway, I put him to bed feeling on top of the world. It didn’t last.
Harry had been starting a cold on Sunday but he’d been happy enough despite a runny nose. However, after sleeping for a couple of hours, he woke and I couldn’t get him to drop off again.
I walked him round the house, sang to him, played with him, even allowed him to watch In The Night Garden, but it didn’t work.
Harry’s had colds before but I’d never seen him so upset for so long – he simply wouldn’t settle. Eventually I gave in and took him into our bed. As usual, he wanted to cuddle his mum but he would not drop off to sleep.
It meant Melissa and I managed to get about an hour’s sleep on Sunday night, leaving us completely shattered the following morning. Melissa then spent the day looking after a very unhappy, poorly baby – she was certainly pleased to see me when I returned from work on Monday night.
But although Sunday was a real up and down day, it didn’t take the shine off seeing Harry’s first steps; that’s something I’ll never forget.
Monday, 4 January 2010
Friday, 4 December 2009
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?
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?
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
Who does Harry take after?
It’s funny how different people see different things in Harry. For every person who says ‘he looks just like you’ to me, another will say ‘doesn’t he look like his mum’ to Melissa.
To be honest, I’m not sure which one of us he takes after. After all, he’s a baby and, although I obviously think Harry is the best looking little boy ever, I accept that all babies look alike, at least to some extent.
My grandad sees things differently, though. Not long after Harry was born, he told me that he ‘didn’t look like a Wright’, adding that it was definitely a good thing.
Melissa’s nan agrees that he takes after the Evans side of the family, and is convinced Harry will have curly hair like his grandad.
My mum says Harry’s just like me at that age, a conclusion she seems to have reached based on the fact he frowns a lot when he’s hungry.
As I say, though, I’m not really sure which one of us he looks like. Some days I think he resembles me; other days I think he looks just like Melissa.
One things for sure, Harry’s certainly got my hairline – a sort of permanently receded one – which I’m sure he won’t thank me for in later years.
I’ve also spotted some of Melissa’s character traits in him – he’s very happy (most of the time) and he’s noisy. The fact that he loves looking at his reflection is also something he’s inherited from his mum.
To be honest, though, I don’t care which one of us he takes after. Harry will be his own person and, I’m sure, he’ll inherit our very best qualities. I certainly hope so.
To be honest, I’m not sure which one of us he takes after. After all, he’s a baby and, although I obviously think Harry is the best looking little boy ever, I accept that all babies look alike, at least to some extent.
My grandad sees things differently, though. Not long after Harry was born, he told me that he ‘didn’t look like a Wright’, adding that it was definitely a good thing.
Melissa’s nan agrees that he takes after the Evans side of the family, and is convinced Harry will have curly hair like his grandad.
My mum says Harry’s just like me at that age, a conclusion she seems to have reached based on the fact he frowns a lot when he’s hungry.
As I say, though, I’m not really sure which one of us he looks like. Some days I think he resembles me; other days I think he looks just like Melissa.
One things for sure, Harry’s certainly got my hairline – a sort of permanently receded one – which I’m sure he won’t thank me for in later years.
I’ve also spotted some of Melissa’s character traits in him – he’s very happy (most of the time) and he’s noisy. The fact that he loves looking at his reflection is also something he’s inherited from his mum.
To be honest, though, I don’t care which one of us he takes after. Harry will be his own person and, I’m sure, he’ll inherit our very best qualities. I certainly hope so.
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Life's never dull
Harry was 10 months old this week and, looking back, I find it incredible how much our lives have changed.
The focus of everything we do is now Harry. What’s also incredible, though, is how quickly he continues to change. His character is really starting to come out now and I think it’s fair to say we’re going to have our hands full for the next few years.
Not that I’m complaining. When I get home at night now, I spend the first half hour on all fours crawling around the floor with Harry chasing after me, laughing. It’s great fun, although I’m not sure Melissa appreciates us dashing around the floor while she tries to tidy up around us.
Anyway, Harry’s energy seems never-ending. Combined with the fact that he’s also pretty strong, this means life is never dull.
Take nappy changing, for instance. Whereas once we were able to keep on his back relatively easily by distracting him, now it often takes two of us – one holding him down like a wrestler, with the other changing the nappy as quickly as possible before he manages to squirm free.
If I find myself on my own with a dirty nappy, I just give him something he knows he shouldn’t have to keep him still. This can be messy as his favourite distraction is a tub of nappy cream – and he is now an expert at getting the lid off and his hands in.
And, as I say, he’s getting really strong. We bought drawer locks for the kitchen but, within minutes of fitting them, Harry had managed to break two of them and get among the pots and pans anyway.
Keeping an eye on him is a full time job. We’ve tried Harry-proofing the house – stair gates, blanks to go in the plug sockets and so on – but he still finds any number of ways to get his hands on things he shouldn’t.
By the time he goes to sleep at night, Melissa and I are exhausted. And by six in the morning, it starts all over again…
The focus of everything we do is now Harry. What’s also incredible, though, is how quickly he continues to change. His character is really starting to come out now and I think it’s fair to say we’re going to have our hands full for the next few years.
Not that I’m complaining. When I get home at night now, I spend the first half hour on all fours crawling around the floor with Harry chasing after me, laughing. It’s great fun, although I’m not sure Melissa appreciates us dashing around the floor while she tries to tidy up around us.
Anyway, Harry’s energy seems never-ending. Combined with the fact that he’s also pretty strong, this means life is never dull.
Take nappy changing, for instance. Whereas once we were able to keep on his back relatively easily by distracting him, now it often takes two of us – one holding him down like a wrestler, with the other changing the nappy as quickly as possible before he manages to squirm free.
If I find myself on my own with a dirty nappy, I just give him something he knows he shouldn’t have to keep him still. This can be messy as his favourite distraction is a tub of nappy cream – and he is now an expert at getting the lid off and his hands in.
And, as I say, he’s getting really strong. We bought drawer locks for the kitchen but, within minutes of fitting them, Harry had managed to break two of them and get among the pots and pans anyway.
Keeping an eye on him is a full time job. We’ve tried Harry-proofing the house – stair gates, blanks to go in the plug sockets and so on – but he still finds any number of ways to get his hands on things he shouldn’t.
By the time he goes to sleep at night, Melissa and I are exhausted. And by six in the morning, it starts all over again…
Friday, 13 November 2009
Why I'm the bad cop of the house
Unfortunately, I’ve become the bad cop as far as Harry is concerned. Why? Well, we’ve been trying to get him into the habit of putting himself to sleep at night which, as you can probably imagine, has caused one or two tantrums.
Unfortunately for me, Melissa finds it hard to listen to Harry crying so the job of putting him down at night has fallen to me. It’s not easy. I put him in his cot, read him a story (we’re currently half way through the original 26-book Thomas the Tank Engine collection), give him his milk, turn off the light and stand outside waiting for the crying to start.
Before I’m accused of being cruel, I don’t let him cry for long. I calm him down and the process begins again; this goes on until Harry drops off. On a good night, it can last for 15 minutes; on a bad night, it can be more than two hours.
To be fair, Melissa has done it a couple of times. The first occasion, I was working late. When I got in – to the sound of Harry screaming – Melissa looked shattered. This was when we decided I should do it on a regular basis.
Anyway, things have improved. Not only is Harry putting himself to sleep now, he’s also sleeping better at night. Of course, Melissa and I are both delighted at this. However, there is a downside.
Harry now regards me with suspicion, particularly when I pick him up and take him to his room at night. Also, when he’s having a tantrum after being put down, he tries to fight me off if I attempt to pick him up – looking at the door and, presumably, hoping Melissa will come and give him a cuddle instead.
The other night, he woke up and was standing at the end of the cot, shouting but not crying. I went through to put him back down and, as soon as he set eyes on me, he started crying.
In contrast when Melissa goes to him, he’s all smiles and holds his arms out waiting to be picked up – knowing full well his mum won’t be able to resist.
So, Melissa is the good cop and I’m the bad one. I just hope Harry doesn’t hold a grudge.
Unfortunately for me, Melissa finds it hard to listen to Harry crying so the job of putting him down at night has fallen to me. It’s not easy. I put him in his cot, read him a story (we’re currently half way through the original 26-book Thomas the Tank Engine collection), give him his milk, turn off the light and stand outside waiting for the crying to start.
Before I’m accused of being cruel, I don’t let him cry for long. I calm him down and the process begins again; this goes on until Harry drops off. On a good night, it can last for 15 minutes; on a bad night, it can be more than two hours.
To be fair, Melissa has done it a couple of times. The first occasion, I was working late. When I got in – to the sound of Harry screaming – Melissa looked shattered. This was when we decided I should do it on a regular basis.
Anyway, things have improved. Not only is Harry putting himself to sleep now, he’s also sleeping better at night. Of course, Melissa and I are both delighted at this. However, there is a downside.
Harry now regards me with suspicion, particularly when I pick him up and take him to his room at night. Also, when he’s having a tantrum after being put down, he tries to fight me off if I attempt to pick him up – looking at the door and, presumably, hoping Melissa will come and give him a cuddle instead.
The other night, he woke up and was standing at the end of the cot, shouting but not crying. I went through to put him back down and, as soon as he set eyes on me, he started crying.
In contrast when Melissa goes to him, he’s all smiles and holds his arms out waiting to be picked up – knowing full well his mum won’t be able to resist.
So, Melissa is the good cop and I’m the bad one. I just hope Harry doesn’t hold a grudge.
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Breakfast in bed? No thanks...
As a new parent, I’m learning all the time. This week I learned that trying to feed an eight month old in bed is not only difficult but incredibly messy, particularly when the eight-month-old in question has been eating chocolate spread.
You might ask how on earth I got myself into that mess and it’s a fair question. Basically, I was trying to help. I woke up before the alarm, got up and showered, leaving Melissa and Harry asleep (Harry joined us in our bed about six and went straight back to sleep).
They were still asleep when I’d finished getting ready so I decided to make breakfast in bed. Harry had his usual Ready Brek, while it was toast for Melissa and myself.
Unfortunately, feeding Harry in bed turned out to be a real challenge. He was bouncing round the bed happily and, despite Melissa’s best efforts to keep him still, getting the food into his mouth was a real test of my coordination.
We managed it eventually, but not without a good portion of his breakfast ending up on the duvet and one or two frayed nerves. Things were to get worse, though. Melissa decided Harry should try some of her chocolate spread on toast. This was a mistake.
Within minutes, there was chocolate spread everywhere. Harry of course was having the time of his life – but I won’t be making breakfast in bed again any time soon.
Anyway, all this mess meant more washing. I just can’t believe how much washing one small baby makes (even without the breakfast in bed disaster).
To be honest, Melissa handles this side of things and I don’t envy her. There is washing everywhere – a pile to be washed, a pile in the washing machine, a pile in the airing cupboard and a pile waiting to be ironed.
Somehow she manages to keep on top of it which is a good job because, if it was left to me, the house would be in chaos.
You might ask how on earth I got myself into that mess and it’s a fair question. Basically, I was trying to help. I woke up before the alarm, got up and showered, leaving Melissa and Harry asleep (Harry joined us in our bed about six and went straight back to sleep).
They were still asleep when I’d finished getting ready so I decided to make breakfast in bed. Harry had his usual Ready Brek, while it was toast for Melissa and myself.
Unfortunately, feeding Harry in bed turned out to be a real challenge. He was bouncing round the bed happily and, despite Melissa’s best efforts to keep him still, getting the food into his mouth was a real test of my coordination.
We managed it eventually, but not without a good portion of his breakfast ending up on the duvet and one or two frayed nerves. Things were to get worse, though. Melissa decided Harry should try some of her chocolate spread on toast. This was a mistake.
Within minutes, there was chocolate spread everywhere. Harry of course was having the time of his life – but I won’t be making breakfast in bed again any time soon.
Anyway, all this mess meant more washing. I just can’t believe how much washing one small baby makes (even without the breakfast in bed disaster).
To be honest, Melissa handles this side of things and I don’t envy her. There is washing everywhere – a pile to be washed, a pile in the washing machine, a pile in the airing cupboard and a pile waiting to be ironed.
Somehow she manages to keep on top of it which is a good job because, if it was left to me, the house would be in chaos.
Remote control
I’ve often heard people say how clever babies are. Of course, I think everything Harry does shows just how clever he is – but then I’m biased and I’m pretty sure every parent thinks the same.
In any case, Harry continues to amaze me with his ability to grasp things so quickly.
Harry has, for a good while now, been obsessed with our Sky remote control. He is forever trying to grab it, particularly when he thinks we’re not paying attention. Sometimes, he will climb onto me as if he wants a cuddle, only to make a desperate dive for the remote at the last second.
When Harry does manage to get his hands on it, he starts chewing it immediately, channels flicking away in the background, while looking extremely pleased with himself – at least until we wrestle it back off him.
It’s a constant battle and neither side is prepared to give up. This week, though, we thought we’d made some progress when Melissa came up with the bright idea of giving him the remote control for an old television that we no longer use.
Initially Harry seemed happy enough with his new toy but he soon got tired of it. I’m not sure how he worked it out, but he seemed to realise this wasn’t the remote he was really after. Suddenly, he was hunting the Sky remote – and the battle started all over again.
So our bid to deceive Harry failed miserably. Perhaps that’s a lesson for us; after all, if he can see through us at the age of nine months, what’s he going to be like in another two or three years?
In any case, Harry continues to amaze me with his ability to grasp things so quickly.
Harry has, for a good while now, been obsessed with our Sky remote control. He is forever trying to grab it, particularly when he thinks we’re not paying attention. Sometimes, he will climb onto me as if he wants a cuddle, only to make a desperate dive for the remote at the last second.
When Harry does manage to get his hands on it, he starts chewing it immediately, channels flicking away in the background, while looking extremely pleased with himself – at least until we wrestle it back off him.
It’s a constant battle and neither side is prepared to give up. This week, though, we thought we’d made some progress when Melissa came up with the bright idea of giving him the remote control for an old television that we no longer use.
Initially Harry seemed happy enough with his new toy but he soon got tired of it. I’m not sure how he worked it out, but he seemed to realise this wasn’t the remote he was really after. Suddenly, he was hunting the Sky remote – and the battle started all over again.
So our bid to deceive Harry failed miserably. Perhaps that’s a lesson for us; after all, if he can see through us at the age of nine months, what’s he going to be like in another two or three years?
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