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.
Friday, 24 December 2010
Sleeping
HARRY’S sleeping is a funny thing. When he first goes to bed at night, I swear you could put a brass band outside his room and he wouldn’t wake up.
But after about four in the morning, he’s awake at the slightest sound – including the creak of floorboards.
As you can imagine, this makes visiting the toilet in the night something of a challenge.
Sleeping in the day is another challenge altogether. Take last Sunday.
We decided to pop to Eagles Meadow in Wrexham to get the last of our Christmas shopping done and, much to our relief, Harry dropped off in his pushchair shortly after we arrived.
With Harry still fast asleep when we’d finished the shopping, we thought it best not to disturb him by putting him back in the car and decided to have some lunch instead.
The restaurant looked fairly quiet, so we wheeled Harry inside hoping to eat our lunch before he woke up.
Unfortunately, our table was right next to what has to be one of the noisiest coffee machines in the world. Whenever somebody ordered a hot drink, there was a bang, followed by a loud tapping and the sound of steam being released.
Every time this happened, Melissa or I would check Harry nervously, expecting him to wake up.
We had managed to eat our starter before it was all too much for him and he woke up, slightly dazed.
Of course, we then had to negotiate our main meals while keeping Harry entertained.
Fortunately – and perhaps surprisingly – we discovered that he quite liked the seafood sauce on my pasta; dipping pieces of bread in it kept him quiet just about long enough for us to finish our food.
It didn’t make for a particularly enjoyable meal, however, as Harry insisted on standing on the seat and shouting ‘ba-ba’ at baby on the table next to us.
Put it this way, I was left wondering whether it would have been easier to risk waking him by putting him in the car after all.
But after about four in the morning, he’s awake at the slightest sound – including the creak of floorboards.
As you can imagine, this makes visiting the toilet in the night something of a challenge.
Sleeping in the day is another challenge altogether. Take last Sunday.
We decided to pop to Eagles Meadow in Wrexham to get the last of our Christmas shopping done and, much to our relief, Harry dropped off in his pushchair shortly after we arrived.
With Harry still fast asleep when we’d finished the shopping, we thought it best not to disturb him by putting him back in the car and decided to have some lunch instead.
The restaurant looked fairly quiet, so we wheeled Harry inside hoping to eat our lunch before he woke up.
Unfortunately, our table was right next to what has to be one of the noisiest coffee machines in the world. Whenever somebody ordered a hot drink, there was a bang, followed by a loud tapping and the sound of steam being released.
Every time this happened, Melissa or I would check Harry nervously, expecting him to wake up.
We had managed to eat our starter before it was all too much for him and he woke up, slightly dazed.
Of course, we then had to negotiate our main meals while keeping Harry entertained.
Fortunately – and perhaps surprisingly – we discovered that he quite liked the seafood sauce on my pasta; dipping pieces of bread in it kept him quiet just about long enough for us to finish our food.
It didn’t make for a particularly enjoyable meal, however, as Harry insisted on standing on the seat and shouting ‘ba-ba’ at baby on the table next to us.
Put it this way, I was left wondering whether it would have been easier to risk waking him by putting him in the car after all.
Friday, 3 December 2010
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.
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.
Friday, 26 November 2010
Peppa Pig at 2am
Sickness, Peppa Pig, Calpol and a screaming toddler. That was the story of our Sunday night this week.
Melissa had put Harry to bed as I’d been at work so when I arrived home, I was expecting a relaxing evening. Melissa had even opened a bottle of wine but, alas, it wasn’t to be.
Harry was unusually restless and woke up several times crying. He was so upset in the end, that I went to his room and picked him up to comfort him. Ten seconds later, Harry had been sick all over my dressing gown.
I shouted Melissa who rushed upstairs to help. And Harry was immediately sick all over her too.
Thankfully, that was the end of the throwing up, but Harry didn’t drop off again until half eleven.
Unfortunately, he only slept for an hour before waking up crying. This time, there was no way he was going back to sleep. We soon discovered that the only way to stop him crying was to let him watch Peppa Pig.
There is something a bit bizarre about watching children’s television programmes at half past one in the morning, but we were so grateful that he’d calmed down we didn’t mind.
While he was calm, we took the opportunity to get some Calpol down him. Of course, Harry didn’t want to swallow any but, with Melissa holding him down, I managed to get some in his mouth.
The effect was dramatic – I swear that stuff is magic. Within half an hour, Harry was sleepy enough to get him back into bed – our bed this time. A few minutes later, both he and Melissa were flat out, leaving me wide awake unable to shake the Peppa Pig theme tune.
Being a parent is, as I’ve said time and time again, a wonderful experience; but it definitely has its challenging moments.
Melissa had put Harry to bed as I’d been at work so when I arrived home, I was expecting a relaxing evening. Melissa had even opened a bottle of wine but, alas, it wasn’t to be.
Harry was unusually restless and woke up several times crying. He was so upset in the end, that I went to his room and picked him up to comfort him. Ten seconds later, Harry had been sick all over my dressing gown.
I shouted Melissa who rushed upstairs to help. And Harry was immediately sick all over her too.
Thankfully, that was the end of the throwing up, but Harry didn’t drop off again until half eleven.
Unfortunately, he only slept for an hour before waking up crying. This time, there was no way he was going back to sleep. We soon discovered that the only way to stop him crying was to let him watch Peppa Pig.
There is something a bit bizarre about watching children’s television programmes at half past one in the morning, but we were so grateful that he’d calmed down we didn’t mind.
While he was calm, we took the opportunity to get some Calpol down him. Of course, Harry didn’t want to swallow any but, with Melissa holding him down, I managed to get some in his mouth.
The effect was dramatic – I swear that stuff is magic. Within half an hour, Harry was sleepy enough to get him back into bed – our bed this time. A few minutes later, both he and Melissa were flat out, leaving me wide awake unable to shake the Peppa Pig theme tune.
Being a parent is, as I’ve said time and time again, a wonderful experience; but it definitely has its challenging moments.
Thursday, 11 November 2010
Swimming again...
I took Harry swimming on Sunday – the first time I’ve been for a couple of weeks – and was amazed at how much progress he’s made since starting lessons in September.
It sounds young – 21 months – to be having lessons, and I admit I was a bit sceptical at first. But having seen Harry on Sunday, I’ve no doubt that they’re extremely beneficial.
I took Harry to one of the lessons at Waterworld, Wrexham, a month or so ago, and it was an eye-opening experience. The half-hour sessions involve a teacher standing at the edge of the pool issuing instructions to the children and parents or guardians in the pool. There are plenty of activities, including jumping in, rolling in, dancing, singing, splashing, kicking and so on.
Now although the teacher was very friendly, she was also quite strict (as I’m sure she has to be) and I found myself on the end of a couple of sharp reprimands for not letting Harry’s head go under the water. As the teacher later explained to another cautious parent, if you show any fear, it’s only natural for the child to be scared too.
As I say, that was a few weeks ago and when I took Harry to the pool on Sunday, I was surprised at the change. He jumps in on his own, doesn’t mind his head going under water and – best of all – when he kicks hard enough, he is able to move around the pool on his own. It’s great to see him enjoying himself so much in the water.
In fact, the only downside with swimming is getting changed afterwards; keeping an adventurous toddler in the cubicle can be surprisingly tricky. However, Melissa has now developed a foolproof system to keep Harry still while she dries and dresses him – food, or crisps to be precise. After all that activity though, it’s no wonder he’s hungry – I know I am.
It sounds young – 21 months – to be having lessons, and I admit I was a bit sceptical at first. But having seen Harry on Sunday, I’ve no doubt that they’re extremely beneficial.
I took Harry to one of the lessons at Waterworld, Wrexham, a month or so ago, and it was an eye-opening experience. The half-hour sessions involve a teacher standing at the edge of the pool issuing instructions to the children and parents or guardians in the pool. There are plenty of activities, including jumping in, rolling in, dancing, singing, splashing, kicking and so on.
Now although the teacher was very friendly, she was also quite strict (as I’m sure she has to be) and I found myself on the end of a couple of sharp reprimands for not letting Harry’s head go under the water. As the teacher later explained to another cautious parent, if you show any fear, it’s only natural for the child to be scared too.
As I say, that was a few weeks ago and when I took Harry to the pool on Sunday, I was surprised at the change. He jumps in on his own, doesn’t mind his head going under water and – best of all – when he kicks hard enough, he is able to move around the pool on his own. It’s great to see him enjoying himself so much in the water.
In fact, the only downside with swimming is getting changed afterwards; keeping an adventurous toddler in the cubicle can be surprisingly tricky. However, Melissa has now developed a foolproof system to keep Harry still while she dries and dresses him – food, or crisps to be precise. After all that activity though, it’s no wonder he’s hungry – I know I am.
Hands off my CDs
I’ve just learned another valuable lesson: don’t leave Harry alone with anything you want to keep safe.
Now I know what you’re going to say: surely that stands to reason. You’d be right of course, but earlier this week I got complacent and paid the price.
The thing is, Harry’s determination to chew, tear and generally destroy everything has waned in recent weeks.
So when I left him watching Chuggington on my computer, I didn’t give a second thought to the fact that I’d left a CD within grabbing distance.
When I returned to check on him a minute or two later, the CD was back on the desk in front of the computer – in almost exactly the same place it had been originally. The only difference was the cardboard sleeve was now in several pieces.
Harry was smiling angelically at me and when I told him off, he just chuckled. It didn’t help that Melissa was stood behind me, also laughing. So while I was trying to explain to him why tearing daddy’s CD cases was not wrong, Melissa simply said: “You shouldn’t have left it there in the first place.”
She was right of course but that didn’t help. Anyway, Harry had obviously worked out I wasn’t best pleased, however, because he came up to me and cuddled my leg, saying ‘awww’.
Rather than saying sorry, though, I think this might have had more to do with trying to shut me up – Harry had obviously had enough of me talking about CD sleeves.
When I returned home later the same day I spotted our house phone in pieces, balanced on a radiator. When I asked Melissa what had happened, she sheepishly admitted Harry had managed to grab the phone and throw it in the bath. Obviously I wasn’t the only one being complacent that day.
Now I know what you’re going to say: surely that stands to reason. You’d be right of course, but earlier this week I got complacent and paid the price.
The thing is, Harry’s determination to chew, tear and generally destroy everything has waned in recent weeks.
So when I left him watching Chuggington on my computer, I didn’t give a second thought to the fact that I’d left a CD within grabbing distance.
When I returned to check on him a minute or two later, the CD was back on the desk in front of the computer – in almost exactly the same place it had been originally. The only difference was the cardboard sleeve was now in several pieces.
Harry was smiling angelically at me and when I told him off, he just chuckled. It didn’t help that Melissa was stood behind me, also laughing. So while I was trying to explain to him why tearing daddy’s CD cases was not wrong, Melissa simply said: “You shouldn’t have left it there in the first place.”
She was right of course but that didn’t help. Anyway, Harry had obviously worked out I wasn’t best pleased, however, because he came up to me and cuddled my leg, saying ‘awww’.
Rather than saying sorry, though, I think this might have had more to do with trying to shut me up – Harry had obviously had enough of me talking about CD sleeves.
When I returned home later the same day I spotted our house phone in pieces, balanced on a radiator. When I asked Melissa what had happened, she sheepishly admitted Harry had managed to grab the phone and throw it in the bath. Obviously I wasn’t the only one being complacent that day.
Monday, 1 November 2010
Thomas and the sausage roll
Harry was 21 months old last week. On the one hand, it’s hard to believe it’s that long since I was pacing up and down the corridors of the Maelor waiting for Harry to arrive.
On the other hand, it’s difficult to remember what life was like without Harry. And one thing’s for sure, they have been the best 21 months of my life.
As I’ve said before, being a parent certainly encourages you to make the most of your weekends. The fine weather last Sunday saw us head to Llangollen to ride on Thomas the Tank Engine.
It was great watching Harry’s expression change when he recognised Thomas – it was the trigger for an afternoon of excitement as far as he was concerned.
When we first got on the train, Harry was so excited he wouldn’t sit still, climbing up to see out of the carriage one minute, before jumping down to explore the next, and all the while shouting Thomas or ‘choo choo’ at the top of his voice.
In fact, the only time he did sit still was when he was demolishing a sausage roll – and then only because I was practically holding him down in a vain attempt to limit the mess.
Put it this way, I now understand why my dad used to complain about us eating sausage rolls in the car when we were little.
When we arrived at Carrog, trying to keep hold of Harry was the biggest challenge as he charged up and down the platform waving his new Thomas flag. Thankfully, Melissa had remembered to put the reins in – and I was left in no doubt that they are an essential tool in the battle to hang on to adventurous toddlers.
But it was great fun – and I’m sure if Harry gets his way, we’ll be booking ourselves on to the Santa Special in December.
On the other hand, it’s difficult to remember what life was like without Harry. And one thing’s for sure, they have been the best 21 months of my life.
As I’ve said before, being a parent certainly encourages you to make the most of your weekends. The fine weather last Sunday saw us head to Llangollen to ride on Thomas the Tank Engine.
It was great watching Harry’s expression change when he recognised Thomas – it was the trigger for an afternoon of excitement as far as he was concerned.
When we first got on the train, Harry was so excited he wouldn’t sit still, climbing up to see out of the carriage one minute, before jumping down to explore the next, and all the while shouting Thomas or ‘choo choo’ at the top of his voice.
In fact, the only time he did sit still was when he was demolishing a sausage roll – and then only because I was practically holding him down in a vain attempt to limit the mess.
Put it this way, I now understand why my dad used to complain about us eating sausage rolls in the car when we were little.
When we arrived at Carrog, trying to keep hold of Harry was the biggest challenge as he charged up and down the platform waving his new Thomas flag. Thankfully, Melissa had remembered to put the reins in – and I was left in no doubt that they are an essential tool in the battle to hang on to adventurous toddlers.
But it was great fun – and I’m sure if Harry gets his way, we’ll be booking ourselves on to the Santa Special in December.
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