I always wondered why my friends with children always looked slightly on edge. Now I’m beginning to understand.
In the last two weeks, Harry has managed to wreck our laptop, as well as smashing our slow cooker.
Not only has this caused a fair amount of stress in the Wright household – especially for Melissa who has been deprived of Facebook – it’s also turned out to be fairly costly to replace or repair the items in question.
It amazes me that someone so small can cause so much mischief. Some days when I step through the back door at home, there’s a trail of destruction leading to the front room.
On these occasions, I’m generally met by a grinning Harry, while a shell-shocked Melissa sits among the debris. As a rule, this isn’t a good time to point out that the house looks a bit of a mess.
But even on days like this, I can’t wait to get through the door, play with Harry and, if I’m really lucky, feed him his tea.
Meal times are now quite a challenge because Harry knows it’s time to eat as soon as we put him in his highchair.
The problem is, he doesn’t have a great deal of patience where food is concerned, so we always have five minutes of shouting and banging the table while I heat up his tea.
The trouble really starts if the food is too hot – Harry will scream and strain until his face is purple as one of us desperately tries to cool it down.
Believe me, I’ve ended up leaping around the kitchen singing at the top of my voice on more than one occasion to try and distract him. All things considered, it’s no wonder parents always look slightly on edge.
Tuesday, 6 April 2010
Friday, 12 March 2010
Holidays are meant to be an enjoyable and relaxing way to recharge your batteries. Why then, after a week in the Canaries, do I feel like I need another week off work? Simple: Harry.
Before I go on, I should say that our holiday wasn’t a disaster by any means. Harry certainly enjoyed himself and it was nice to get in the sun for a few days.
Going abroad with a toddler is, however, a very different, and altogether more challenging experience. The main problem is the travelling itself – and it made both Melissa and I long for the simplicity of being able to throw everything into the back of our car.
We arrived at the airport two hours before our flight, which meant plenty of hanging around, trying to keep Harry entertained. It’s not as easy as it sounds. To complicate matters, Harry had woken up with a slight stomach upset – nothing serious, but it meant a couple of dirty nappies in the airport, which wasn’t the ideal way to kick off the holiday.
To make matters worse, when we got on the plane Harry filled his nappy again. Unfortunately, we were told by the cabin crew that we wouldn’t be able to change him until we were in the air and the seatbelt sign had been turned off.
Half an hour later, we were still stationary on the tarmac, with Harry on the brink of dropping off. Our pleas to change Harry again fell on deaf ears and we ended up having to wake him when we finally did get into the air an hour or so later.
The journey home was less eventful – or at least it was until Harry decided to start hitting the lady sat in front of us on the plane over the head with one of his books.
As I say, the holiday itself was good and Harry loved splashing around in the pool and being made a fuss of by the hotel staff. Nevertheless, Melissa has vowed it will be at least 10 years before we go abroad again. She might be exaggerating slightly, but she does have a point. As for Harry, he’ll just have to get used to the unpredictable British weather.
Before I go on, I should say that our holiday wasn’t a disaster by any means. Harry certainly enjoyed himself and it was nice to get in the sun for a few days.
Going abroad with a toddler is, however, a very different, and altogether more challenging experience. The main problem is the travelling itself – and it made both Melissa and I long for the simplicity of being able to throw everything into the back of our car.
We arrived at the airport two hours before our flight, which meant plenty of hanging around, trying to keep Harry entertained. It’s not as easy as it sounds. To complicate matters, Harry had woken up with a slight stomach upset – nothing serious, but it meant a couple of dirty nappies in the airport, which wasn’t the ideal way to kick off the holiday.
To make matters worse, when we got on the plane Harry filled his nappy again. Unfortunately, we were told by the cabin crew that we wouldn’t be able to change him until we were in the air and the seatbelt sign had been turned off.
Half an hour later, we were still stationary on the tarmac, with Harry on the brink of dropping off. Our pleas to change Harry again fell on deaf ears and we ended up having to wake him when we finally did get into the air an hour or so later.
The journey home was less eventful – or at least it was until Harry decided to start hitting the lady sat in front of us on the plane over the head with one of his books.
As I say, the holiday itself was good and Harry loved splashing around in the pool and being made a fuss of by the hotel staff. Nevertheless, Melissa has vowed it will be at least 10 years before we go abroad again. She might be exaggerating slightly, but she does have a point. As for Harry, he’ll just have to get used to the unpredictable British weather.
The learning curve
I’ve said repeatedly that being a parent has been a massive learning curve for me. But as well as learning all about being a dad, I’ve also learned quite a lot about Melissa.
There’s no doubt that having a baby puts plenty of pressure on a couple. First there’s the obvious factors like a lack of sleep that can cause one or two sharp words. Then there’s the stress involved in being responsible for a baby – and worrying constantly about their wellbeing.
And I will admit that we’ve had the odd sharp exchange when Harry’s fallen over or, worse, when one of us has given him food that’s a little bit too hot.
One thing that has surprised me, though, is that having Harry has brought out a previously unseen, slightly dishonest side to Melissa. Now before I find myself out on the street, we’re not talking about serious dishonesty here. What we’re talking about is pretending to be asleep when Harry cries in the middle of the night, even when it’s her turn to get up.
Having said all that – and without wishing to sound soppy – Melissa and I have definitely grown closer since Harry was born. For a start we’re spending more time together, and what could be a more important shared interest than Harry?
It’s also true to say that the stressful moments pale into insignificance against the moments of awe and pure happiness – the first time I held Harry, the first time he sneezed, the first time he smiled, his first steps… I could go on and on.
And anyway, Melissa and I have sort of reached an agreement whenever there’s cross words about Harry. It seems to be based on the Brian Clough technique of management; we sit down to discuss an issue involving Harry, talk about it for ten minutes, and then decide Melissa was right all along. Well at least it makes for a quiet life.
There’s no doubt that having a baby puts plenty of pressure on a couple. First there’s the obvious factors like a lack of sleep that can cause one or two sharp words. Then there’s the stress involved in being responsible for a baby – and worrying constantly about their wellbeing.
And I will admit that we’ve had the odd sharp exchange when Harry’s fallen over or, worse, when one of us has given him food that’s a little bit too hot.
One thing that has surprised me, though, is that having Harry has brought out a previously unseen, slightly dishonest side to Melissa. Now before I find myself out on the street, we’re not talking about serious dishonesty here. What we’re talking about is pretending to be asleep when Harry cries in the middle of the night, even when it’s her turn to get up.
Having said all that – and without wishing to sound soppy – Melissa and I have definitely grown closer since Harry was born. For a start we’re spending more time together, and what could be a more important shared interest than Harry?
It’s also true to say that the stressful moments pale into insignificance against the moments of awe and pure happiness – the first time I held Harry, the first time he sneezed, the first time he smiled, his first steps… I could go on and on.
And anyway, Melissa and I have sort of reached an agreement whenever there’s cross words about Harry. It seems to be based on the Brian Clough technique of management; we sit down to discuss an issue involving Harry, talk about it for ten minutes, and then decide Melissa was right all along. Well at least it makes for a quiet life.
The toy battle
We’ve bought plenty of toys for Harry since he was born and he’s now got everything from trucks to trampolines cluttering our front room.
But however expensive, fancy or exciting the toy, Harry will drop it immediately if there’s even the most remote chance of getting his hands on the Sudocrem for a minute.
I’m not sure why he’s like this – but I’m sure he’s not unique in this regard. I suppose it’s because if he’s not supposed to get hold of something, it makes it all the more desirable.
And it’s not just Sudocrem. There’s the television remote control, food, and anything in the bathroom, particularly shampoo, which he enjoys squirting onto the carpet or, worse, into his mouth.
I find it surprising because his toys are pretty impressive. I’m especially fond of his ‘Whiz-Around Mountain’ car set, which keeps me entertained for hours. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t share my enthusiasm.
In fact his favourite ‘toy’ is a tent, decorated in extremely bright colours with characters from the children’s television show Waybuloo. Harry likes to hide in the tent while we pretend we don’t know where he is. This usually leads to giggles galore from Harry – and I don’t think there’s a nicer sound on earth.
But Harry’s quest for forbidden objects mean we have to be constantly on our guard. Leaving a door open for just a few seconds prompts a mad dash to escape and, if you’re not quick enough, he’ll be heading for the stairs or kitchen within seconds.
It’s not so bad when you’re at home, but when we’re visiting friends and family – particularly those without small children – it’s a constant battle to stop Harry getting his hands on things he shouldn’t.
I’m sure every parent has been through the same and half an hour of this can leave you exhausted, not to mention embarrassed. Mind you, nobody said being a parent was going to be easy.
But however expensive, fancy or exciting the toy, Harry will drop it immediately if there’s even the most remote chance of getting his hands on the Sudocrem for a minute.
I’m not sure why he’s like this – but I’m sure he’s not unique in this regard. I suppose it’s because if he’s not supposed to get hold of something, it makes it all the more desirable.
And it’s not just Sudocrem. There’s the television remote control, food, and anything in the bathroom, particularly shampoo, which he enjoys squirting onto the carpet or, worse, into his mouth.
I find it surprising because his toys are pretty impressive. I’m especially fond of his ‘Whiz-Around Mountain’ car set, which keeps me entertained for hours. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t share my enthusiasm.
In fact his favourite ‘toy’ is a tent, decorated in extremely bright colours with characters from the children’s television show Waybuloo. Harry likes to hide in the tent while we pretend we don’t know where he is. This usually leads to giggles galore from Harry – and I don’t think there’s a nicer sound on earth.
But Harry’s quest for forbidden objects mean we have to be constantly on our guard. Leaving a door open for just a few seconds prompts a mad dash to escape and, if you’re not quick enough, he’ll be heading for the stairs or kitchen within seconds.
It’s not so bad when you’re at home, but when we’re visiting friends and family – particularly those without small children – it’s a constant battle to stop Harry getting his hands on things he shouldn’t.
I’m sure every parent has been through the same and half an hour of this can leave you exhausted, not to mention embarrassed. Mind you, nobody said being a parent was going to be easy.
Monday, 22 February 2010
Showing off
SINCE having Harry, Melissa’s said repeatedly that having a baby makes you forgetful. I’ve always gone along with this without really understanding what she’s talking about. Now I think I know what she means.
Last weekend Melissa spent the day with friends in Chester. This meant I spent the day looking after Harry.
It was all going very smoothly, so smoothly in fact that I tried to show off – and almost came a cropper.
Things started to go wrong when I put Harry down for his afternoon nap. I thought, what with it being Valentine’s weekend, I could do a bit of cleaning to save Melissa.
However, while cleaning the bathroom, I took off my wedding ring, put it down on the floor and promptly forgot all about it. With the cleaning done, Harry woke but I decided to go one step further and vacuum the house too.
Now Harry loves the vacuum cleaner and he was quite happy to follow me around the house while I finished off.
Feeling a little bit smug, we went downstairs to play and it wasn’t until a couple of hours later I realised I was missing something – my wedding ring.
Cue scenes of panic. I’ve no idea what Harry made of it all; I’m sure he was more than a little bemused to see his dad tearing round like a madman and turning the house upside down.
Eventually I realised I must have left it in the bathroom. Unfortunately there was no sign of it. Thinking I’d vacuumed it up, I set about dismantling the Dyson. Eventually – and after making a considerable amount of mess – I found it stuck in the tubes.
Of course, the relief turned to embarrassment pretty soon afterwards and the episode brought to mind one of my nan’s favourite sayings, “Pride comes before a fall.”
At least I learned a valuable lesson: don’t bother trying to help out with the housework when you’ve got a toddler in tow.
Last weekend Melissa spent the day with friends in Chester. This meant I spent the day looking after Harry.
It was all going very smoothly, so smoothly in fact that I tried to show off – and almost came a cropper.
Things started to go wrong when I put Harry down for his afternoon nap. I thought, what with it being Valentine’s weekend, I could do a bit of cleaning to save Melissa.
However, while cleaning the bathroom, I took off my wedding ring, put it down on the floor and promptly forgot all about it. With the cleaning done, Harry woke but I decided to go one step further and vacuum the house too.
Now Harry loves the vacuum cleaner and he was quite happy to follow me around the house while I finished off.
Feeling a little bit smug, we went downstairs to play and it wasn’t until a couple of hours later I realised I was missing something – my wedding ring.
Cue scenes of panic. I’ve no idea what Harry made of it all; I’m sure he was more than a little bemused to see his dad tearing round like a madman and turning the house upside down.
Eventually I realised I must have left it in the bathroom. Unfortunately there was no sign of it. Thinking I’d vacuumed it up, I set about dismantling the Dyson. Eventually – and after making a considerable amount of mess – I found it stuck in the tubes.
Of course, the relief turned to embarrassment pretty soon afterwards and the episode brought to mind one of my nan’s favourite sayings, “Pride comes before a fall.”
At least I learned a valuable lesson: don’t bother trying to help out with the housework when you’ve got a toddler in tow.
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
Learning to communicate
It’s amazing how babies learn to communicate. Harry is learning all the time and, when it comes to making his feelings known, he’s pretty successful.
He is attempting to talk now. He says ‘dadda’ an awful lot, but it’s pretty indiscriminate and just when I think he’s referring to me, he shouts ‘dadda’ at the television instead.
Much to Melissa’s delight, he’s also started making a ‘mmmm’ sound. Melissa’s convinced he’s trying to say mum; I think he’s trying to tell us he’s hungry.
His only other word is ‘baba’, but neither of us can work out what he means when he says it. One thing’s for sure, he’s a real chatterbox already, always talking, shouting and muttering – obviously something he’s inherited from his mum.
Harry’s favourite means of communicating, though, is pointing. He learned to point just before Christmas and now, whenever he wants to get his hands on something, he points and shouts ‘ah’ or ‘eh’ until we eventually give in – which is normally followed by Harry clapping his hands and smiling.
Harry’s also learned that if he puts both arms in the air, we’ll pick him up. Now he’s forever waddling over to us, dropping a book in our lap and putting both his arms in the air.
I’d like to say he then sits happily for 15 or 20 minutes reading the book, but it normally lasts five minutes before he starts pointing at another book and shouting.
Harry’s other means of communication is, of course, crying. Fortunately for us, he’s not a grumpy baby so we don’t have to put up with a lot of this, unless he’s not feeling well, he’s hurt himself – or he’s hungry.
He’s even learning to put himself to sleep at night, so we no longer have the half-hour tantrum we were getting before Christmas. This has certainly made for a calmer atmosphere in the Wright household – something of a relief after a day of chasing Harry round.
He is attempting to talk now. He says ‘dadda’ an awful lot, but it’s pretty indiscriminate and just when I think he’s referring to me, he shouts ‘dadda’ at the television instead.
Much to Melissa’s delight, he’s also started making a ‘mmmm’ sound. Melissa’s convinced he’s trying to say mum; I think he’s trying to tell us he’s hungry.
His only other word is ‘baba’, but neither of us can work out what he means when he says it. One thing’s for sure, he’s a real chatterbox already, always talking, shouting and muttering – obviously something he’s inherited from his mum.
Harry’s favourite means of communicating, though, is pointing. He learned to point just before Christmas and now, whenever he wants to get his hands on something, he points and shouts ‘ah’ or ‘eh’ until we eventually give in – which is normally followed by Harry clapping his hands and smiling.
Harry’s also learned that if he puts both arms in the air, we’ll pick him up. Now he’s forever waddling over to us, dropping a book in our lap and putting both his arms in the air.
I’d like to say he then sits happily for 15 or 20 minutes reading the book, but it normally lasts five minutes before he starts pointing at another book and shouting.
Harry’s other means of communication is, of course, crying. Fortunately for us, he’s not a grumpy baby so we don’t have to put up with a lot of this, unless he’s not feeling well, he’s hurt himself – or he’s hungry.
He’s even learning to put himself to sleep at night, so we no longer have the half-hour tantrum we were getting before Christmas. This has certainly made for a calmer atmosphere in the Wright household – something of a relief after a day of chasing Harry round.
Nappies
I haven’t mentioned nappies for a while so I thought it might be a good time to redress the balance.
And just because I haven’t mentioned them for a while doesn’t mean everything’s rosy in that department either. In fact, changing – and dressing – Harry is now more of a challenge than it’s ever been.
Now, whenever he needs a nappy change, it’s a major event and usually takes about 15 minutes by the time you’ve chased him round the house a couple of times. The problem is, he won’t stay still and lying on his back is simply out of the question.
For a while we were able to bribe him by taking him to the bathroom and turning a tap on. Harry, believing he was going to get a bath, would stand by the bath giving us just enough time to change his bottom.
Unfortunately he’s a quick learner and, as soon as he realises he’s not getting a bath, he scampers off, with Melissa or me, or both of us, scrambling after him with nappy in one hand and Sudocrem in the other.
Believe me, changing Harry can sometimes be more tiring than an hour at the gym.
It’s a similar story when it comes to getting him dressed. My usual tactic is putting him in his cot while I try and get a vest over his head. This isn’t as easy as it sounds with a screaming toddler who’s determined to fight you off.
It’s nothing if not stressful but we get there eventually – usually just in time for Melissa to announce that the trousers I’ve put on him don’t match his shirt. Then it we have to do it all over again…
And just because I haven’t mentioned them for a while doesn’t mean everything’s rosy in that department either. In fact, changing – and dressing – Harry is now more of a challenge than it’s ever been.
Now, whenever he needs a nappy change, it’s a major event and usually takes about 15 minutes by the time you’ve chased him round the house a couple of times. The problem is, he won’t stay still and lying on his back is simply out of the question.
For a while we were able to bribe him by taking him to the bathroom and turning a tap on. Harry, believing he was going to get a bath, would stand by the bath giving us just enough time to change his bottom.
Unfortunately he’s a quick learner and, as soon as he realises he’s not getting a bath, he scampers off, with Melissa or me, or both of us, scrambling after him with nappy in one hand and Sudocrem in the other.
Believe me, changing Harry can sometimes be more tiring than an hour at the gym.
It’s a similar story when it comes to getting him dressed. My usual tactic is putting him in his cot while I try and get a vest over his head. This isn’t as easy as it sounds with a screaming toddler who’s determined to fight you off.
It’s nothing if not stressful but we get there eventually – usually just in time for Melissa to announce that the trousers I’ve put on him don’t match his shirt. Then it we have to do it all over again…
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