CHILDREN can make you feel incredibly guilty, as last Monday demonstrated all too clearly. After taking Harry to visit my grandad, I managed to catch his head while lifting him into his car seat.
It wasn't a big bump and there was no mark on his head but this didn't stop Harry getting quite upset – understandably perhaps – about the whole thing.
“You bumped my head daddy,” he told me through sobs. “That hurt.” I felt terrible, and tried to cheer him up by telling him that we were off to visit my mum and dad.
“I do hope nanny and grandad will be more careful with me,” he responded, just to make me feel even worse. As soon as we got to mum and dad's, Harry told them I'd bumped his head on the car.
“Daddy really hurt my head nanny,” he said as soon as he got through the door, prompting disapproving looks from mum in my direction.
He hadn't forgotten about it the next morning either, telling Melissa how I'd hurt his head, while frowning and wagging his finger in my direction.
At least it's not personal. During a shopping trip last Saturday, Melissa inadvertently trapped Harry's hand in a supermarket trolley, prompting a similar outcry. Melissa was beside herself with guilt which wasn't eased by the fact that Harry told everyone we bumped into about his poorly finger.
There's certainly no secrets with Harry.
Monday, 16 January 2012
Second time around...
With the arrival of Harry's brother or sister rapidly approaching (nine weeks and counting), I've been thinking about what I want to differently this time around.
The main thing I've decided is to let the baby sleep as much as possible. While I'm sure I'll be just as besotted with the new arrival as I was with Harry, I won't be desperately trying to wake him or her up at every opportunity. This time around I'll be happy to let sleeping babies lie.
To be fair, when Harry was born, some of my friends with children did try – politely of course – to warn me about this. “Don't wake him, just let him sleep,” they said. “He'll be awake all of the time soon enough.”
Of course I knew best and completely ignored them; after all, I wanted Harry to wake up so that I could show him off.
I've learned my lesson, though, so this time it will be a different kettle of fish. I am determined to make the most of any periods of calm as far as the baby is concerned, so there will be no waking up when visitors drop in.
In any case, we will have a demanding toddler to deal with as well so I doubt we'd get away with sitting around and cuddling the baby.
Meanwhile, the learning curve with Harry continues. Last weekend I learned that three-year-olds and decorating don't mix.
In my defence, trying to paint in a straight line while being attacked by a toddler is no easy task. As a result, it took a long time to complete what should have been a straightforward task. The finished job was, how can I put this, not quite up to scratch.
Not that Harry minded. He was more interested in leaving a trail of blue handprints around the house. Next time I get the paint out, I think Harry will have to visit nan and grandad's.
The main thing I've decided is to let the baby sleep as much as possible. While I'm sure I'll be just as besotted with the new arrival as I was with Harry, I won't be desperately trying to wake him or her up at every opportunity. This time around I'll be happy to let sleeping babies lie.
To be fair, when Harry was born, some of my friends with children did try – politely of course – to warn me about this. “Don't wake him, just let him sleep,” they said. “He'll be awake all of the time soon enough.”
Of course I knew best and completely ignored them; after all, I wanted Harry to wake up so that I could show him off.
I've learned my lesson, though, so this time it will be a different kettle of fish. I am determined to make the most of any periods of calm as far as the baby is concerned, so there will be no waking up when visitors drop in.
In any case, we will have a demanding toddler to deal with as well so I doubt we'd get away with sitting around and cuddling the baby.
Meanwhile, the learning curve with Harry continues. Last weekend I learned that three-year-olds and decorating don't mix.
In my defence, trying to paint in a straight line while being attacked by a toddler is no easy task. As a result, it took a long time to complete what should have been a straightforward task. The finished job was, how can I put this, not quite up to scratch.
Not that Harry minded. He was more interested in leaving a trail of blue handprints around the house. Next time I get the paint out, I think Harry will have to visit nan and grandad's.
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
Mince pie
I could hear plenty of noise downstairs so I knew that something was going on. There was shouting, giggling, and the odd cross word from Melissa, usually followed by a bang and a crash.
When I picked up the courage to go into the kitchen, however, I wasn't expecting to be greeted by the sight of Harry sat on the table, covered from head to foot in flour and icing sugar.
“Come on daddy, you can help me with my cooking now,” he said, grinning widely. “I'm making mince pies.”
Melissa loves baking with Harry. Why, I'm not sure because the results are invariably extremely messy.
Anyway, Melissa had decided to make some mince pies, a task Harry had got stuck into by climbing on to the table, taking off his socks and grabbing a rolling pin.
By the time I arrived, it was chaos. As I say, there was flour and icing sugar everywhere, not to mention lumps of pastry flying around the room. Harry was busy cutting out shapes for the top of the mince pies, while Melissa was trying to contain as much of the mess as possible.
Remarkably, the end result was pretty tasty – in the circumstances just getting some mincemeat into the pastry cases was quite an achievement.
Anyway, the mince pies didn't last long when I took them into work. My colleagues might have been a little more reticent had they been there during the preparation but, as Terry the chef in Fawlty Towers once said, “What the eye don't see the chef gets away with.”
Aside from the chaos he creates when he's in the kitchen, Harry seems to have a bit of a talent for cooking. I think it might be a bit too soon to let him loose on the Christmas turkey just yet though.
When I picked up the courage to go into the kitchen, however, I wasn't expecting to be greeted by the sight of Harry sat on the table, covered from head to foot in flour and icing sugar.
“Come on daddy, you can help me with my cooking now,” he said, grinning widely. “I'm making mince pies.”
Melissa loves baking with Harry. Why, I'm not sure because the results are invariably extremely messy.
Anyway, Melissa had decided to make some mince pies, a task Harry had got stuck into by climbing on to the table, taking off his socks and grabbing a rolling pin.
By the time I arrived, it was chaos. As I say, there was flour and icing sugar everywhere, not to mention lumps of pastry flying around the room. Harry was busy cutting out shapes for the top of the mince pies, while Melissa was trying to contain as much of the mess as possible.
Remarkably, the end result was pretty tasty – in the circumstances just getting some mincemeat into the pastry cases was quite an achievement.
Anyway, the mince pies didn't last long when I took them into work. My colleagues might have been a little more reticent had they been there during the preparation but, as Terry the chef in Fawlty Towers once said, “What the eye don't see the chef gets away with.”
Aside from the chaos he creates when he's in the kitchen, Harry seems to have a bit of a talent for cooking. I think it might be a bit too soon to let him loose on the Christmas turkey just yet though.
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.
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.
Monday, 19 December 2011
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.
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.
Monday, 12 December 2011
Sleep tight
SLEEPING is without doubt the most discussed aspect of Harry's life in our house.
From the moment he was born, it's been our main preoccupation: how's he sleeping? Is he sleeping at the right time? Has he slept through? And so on.
I thought that this focus would wane as time went by but, so far at least, it hasn't. This is not to say that Harry is a bad sleeper. It's true that he tends to wake a bit too early for my liking (getting to seven is a cause for celebration) but generally he sleeps through without complaint.
However, the issue of bedtime has been on the agenda in recent months; it's gradually been getting later and later. To start with, we thought this was just coincidence but after a few weeks, we realised something more fundamental was affecting him, namely his nap in the day.
Although Harry is only a couple of months away from his third birthday, he's always enjoyed his midday snooze and, truth be told, Melissa and I have quite enjoyed the peace and quiet. The decision to put a stop to it, therefore, was a painful one.
For a start, Harry can be a bit of a monkey when he's in need of a nap (I now understand completely when I hear exasperated parents say “he's just tired” in an apologetic voice). Then there's the effort involved in keeping him awake – particularly if he's in a car.
The other day, I picked Harry up from my parents' house and spent the duration of the journey asking daft questions, shouting, singing and making silly noises in a desperate attempt to stop him dropping off before we got home. We made it – just – but it left me feeling very guilty, particularly after Harry looked at me with barely open eyes and said: “I just want to go to sleep daddy.”
All of this effort is worth it, though. The bedtime is now half six (it had drifted to eight-ish) and he's sleeping for a full 12 hours. At least that gives us time plenty of time to recharge our batteries too.
From the moment he was born, it's been our main preoccupation: how's he sleeping? Is he sleeping at the right time? Has he slept through? And so on.
I thought that this focus would wane as time went by but, so far at least, it hasn't. This is not to say that Harry is a bad sleeper. It's true that he tends to wake a bit too early for my liking (getting to seven is a cause for celebration) but generally he sleeps through without complaint.
However, the issue of bedtime has been on the agenda in recent months; it's gradually been getting later and later. To start with, we thought this was just coincidence but after a few weeks, we realised something more fundamental was affecting him, namely his nap in the day.
Although Harry is only a couple of months away from his third birthday, he's always enjoyed his midday snooze and, truth be told, Melissa and I have quite enjoyed the peace and quiet. The decision to put a stop to it, therefore, was a painful one.
For a start, Harry can be a bit of a monkey when he's in need of a nap (I now understand completely when I hear exasperated parents say “he's just tired” in an apologetic voice). Then there's the effort involved in keeping him awake – particularly if he's in a car.
The other day, I picked Harry up from my parents' house and spent the duration of the journey asking daft questions, shouting, singing and making silly noises in a desperate attempt to stop him dropping off before we got home. We made it – just – but it left me feeling very guilty, particularly after Harry looked at me with barely open eyes and said: “I just want to go to sleep daddy.”
All of this effort is worth it, though. The bedtime is now half six (it had drifted to eight-ish) and he's sleeping for a full 12 hours. At least that gives us time plenty of time to recharge our batteries too.
Big news...
HARRY is coming to terms with some big news: he will soon have to share his home with a baby brother or sister.
I'm not sure he quite understands what a big change this is going to be (let's face it, I'm not sure I understand it fully) but his reaction so far has been thoroughly entertaining.
For a start, he tells everybody he's having a baby sister. The truth is we don't know what we're having and we don't want to. Harry, however, is so confident when he says he's having a little sister that people think we're hiding something. Even my mum suspects that we've found out, told Harry, and then decided not to tell anyone else.
He's also taken to telling people that he's got Peppa Pig and Barney (his cuddly little dinosaur) in his tummy. “They'll be out soon, like the baby in mummy's tummy,” he tells people earnestly. Occasionally he will study Melissa's bump for a few minutes before asking: “Can we get that baby out yet?”
In preparation for the new arrival, Harry decided that he would get out his old travel cot. After helping him to set it up I popped out of the room. When I returned a minute or so later, Harry was lying down in to the cot. When I asked him what he was doing, he replied: “I'm waiting here until that baby comes.”
As I say, I suspect that Harry might find things a little bit more challenging when the baby does arrive – it's due in March – particularly when he realises he's got competition for his mum's attention.
Nevertheless, when I got home from work the other night, Harry gave me a demonstration on how to hold a baby properly using one of his cuddly toys (Melissa had been giving him lessons). He was very gentle, which was something of a surprise as Harry can be a little heavy handed. Perhaps there's nothing to worry about after all.
I'm not sure he quite understands what a big change this is going to be (let's face it, I'm not sure I understand it fully) but his reaction so far has been thoroughly entertaining.
For a start, he tells everybody he's having a baby sister. The truth is we don't know what we're having and we don't want to. Harry, however, is so confident when he says he's having a little sister that people think we're hiding something. Even my mum suspects that we've found out, told Harry, and then decided not to tell anyone else.
He's also taken to telling people that he's got Peppa Pig and Barney (his cuddly little dinosaur) in his tummy. “They'll be out soon, like the baby in mummy's tummy,” he tells people earnestly. Occasionally he will study Melissa's bump for a few minutes before asking: “Can we get that baby out yet?”
In preparation for the new arrival, Harry decided that he would get out his old travel cot. After helping him to set it up I popped out of the room. When I returned a minute or so later, Harry was lying down in to the cot. When I asked him what he was doing, he replied: “I'm waiting here until that baby comes.”
As I say, I suspect that Harry might find things a little bit more challenging when the baby does arrive – it's due in March – particularly when he realises he's got competition for his mum's attention.
Nevertheless, when I got home from work the other night, Harry gave me a demonstration on how to hold a baby properly using one of his cuddly toys (Melissa had been giving him lessons). He was very gentle, which was something of a surprise as Harry can be a little heavy handed. Perhaps there's nothing to worry about after all.
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