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.
Monday, 22 February 2010
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…
In the Night Garden
Before we had Harry, I was very naïve about what being a parent involved. Specifically, I didn’t really appreciate that looking after a little one is relentless.
Just to make it completely clear, I’m not complaining at all. I love spending time with Harry, particularly now he’s getting a bit older and starting to enjoy games.
However, there is nowhere to hide with a one-year-old on the loose and it certainly means you appreciate the peace and quiet when he goes to bed at night.
Incidentally, we’ve now discovered that Harry really likes books. He will sit quietly with a book for ten minutes or more, turning the pages and looking at the pictures, before returning to the more pressing task of tearing around the house creating chaos.
I have to confess, though, that both Melissa and I do allow Harry to watch the television to give us a little bit of a break from time to time.
Before he was born, I didn’t think we’d allow Harry to watch television at such a young age but it is a very useful way of calming him down, particularly before bedtime.
Harry’s only allowed to watch the television for half an hour or so each day and, because it’s a treat for him, it often does the trick if he won’t settle down.
His favourite programme is In The Night Garden and I’ve become a bit of a fan too. This means I’m now an expert in all the characters, Iggle Piggle, Upsy Daisy, Makka Pakka, and the Titifers (stop sniggering, they’re birds), as well as their preferred choice of transport, the Ninky Nonk and the Pinky Ponk. It’s a whole new world.
Harry loves it. As soon as he sees Iggle Piggle, he jumps up and claps his hands in anticipation of the signature song. It’s lovely to watch. Unfortunately for me, the songs happen to be quite catchy and I often find myself humming them in work, which can be a little embarrassing.
It could be worse though and, as I say, I quite enjoy the programme anyway. Altogether now, Iggle piggle, iggle onk, we’re going to catch the Ninky Nonk!
Just to make it completely clear, I’m not complaining at all. I love spending time with Harry, particularly now he’s getting a bit older and starting to enjoy games.
However, there is nowhere to hide with a one-year-old on the loose and it certainly means you appreciate the peace and quiet when he goes to bed at night.
Incidentally, we’ve now discovered that Harry really likes books. He will sit quietly with a book for ten minutes or more, turning the pages and looking at the pictures, before returning to the more pressing task of tearing around the house creating chaos.
I have to confess, though, that both Melissa and I do allow Harry to watch the television to give us a little bit of a break from time to time.
Before he was born, I didn’t think we’d allow Harry to watch television at such a young age but it is a very useful way of calming him down, particularly before bedtime.
Harry’s only allowed to watch the television for half an hour or so each day and, because it’s a treat for him, it often does the trick if he won’t settle down.
His favourite programme is In The Night Garden and I’ve become a bit of a fan too. This means I’m now an expert in all the characters, Iggle Piggle, Upsy Daisy, Makka Pakka, and the Titifers (stop sniggering, they’re birds), as well as their preferred choice of transport, the Ninky Nonk and the Pinky Ponk. It’s a whole new world.
Harry loves it. As soon as he sees Iggle Piggle, he jumps up and claps his hands in anticipation of the signature song. It’s lovely to watch. Unfortunately for me, the songs happen to be quite catchy and I often find myself humming them in work, which can be a little embarrassing.
It could be worse though and, as I say, I quite enjoy the programme anyway. Altogether now, Iggle piggle, iggle onk, we’re going to catch the Ninky Nonk!
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
Happy birthday
Harry celebrated his first birthday on January 19 and, looking back, it’s been a remarkable 12 months for me.
This time last year, I was a nervous wreck. Harry was a few days old and had just come out of hospital, while I seemed to spend all my time making cups of tea for visitors who had come to meet our new arrival.
It was a steep learning curve for both Melissa and myself. As new parents, we were both sensitive to Harry’s every cough, splutter and gurgle. We worried about everything: had he taken enough milk, was he warm enough, was he too warm, did he have wind, and so on.
Of course we still worry about him now, but you do become – slightly – more relaxed about it all.
Despite the worries, though, those first few days at home with Harry were magical. In fact, the last 12 months have been magical – watching Harry grow and develop is awe-inspiring.
Take the last couple of weeks. Harry’s gone from a couple of faltering steps to walking practically all the time.
Anyway, Harry’s birthday fell on a Tuesday, the day he normally attends the parents and toddlers session at Chirk Methodist Church. We didn’t want him to miss out just because it was his birthday so I went along too. It was the first time I’d seen Harry interact with a group of other children and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
However, I was a little bit shocked when Harry marched in and plucked a dummy out of another baby’s mouth before popping it in his own. Still, I suppose it means he’s not going to be a shy little boy.
Everybody at the playgroup was extremely friendly and made me feel welcome – and Harry certainly enjoyed himself.
It was a great way to spend Harry’s first birthday. I’m sure the next year will be just as surprising and enjoyable.
This time last year, I was a nervous wreck. Harry was a few days old and had just come out of hospital, while I seemed to spend all my time making cups of tea for visitors who had come to meet our new arrival.
It was a steep learning curve for both Melissa and myself. As new parents, we were both sensitive to Harry’s every cough, splutter and gurgle. We worried about everything: had he taken enough milk, was he warm enough, was he too warm, did he have wind, and so on.
Of course we still worry about him now, but you do become – slightly – more relaxed about it all.
Despite the worries, though, those first few days at home with Harry were magical. In fact, the last 12 months have been magical – watching Harry grow and develop is awe-inspiring.
Take the last couple of weeks. Harry’s gone from a couple of faltering steps to walking practically all the time.
Anyway, Harry’s birthday fell on a Tuesday, the day he normally attends the parents and toddlers session at Chirk Methodist Church. We didn’t want him to miss out just because it was his birthday so I went along too. It was the first time I’d seen Harry interact with a group of other children and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
However, I was a little bit shocked when Harry marched in and plucked a dummy out of another baby’s mouth before popping it in his own. Still, I suppose it means he’s not going to be a shy little boy.
Everybody at the playgroup was extremely friendly and made me feel welcome – and Harry certainly enjoyed himself.
It was a great way to spend Harry’s first birthday. I’m sure the next year will be just as surprising and enjoyable.
Building a Harry-proof house
I’ve said before on several occasions that having a baby turns your life upside down. I’ve now discovered it’s not just your life that gets turned upside down – it’s also your house.
Now Harry’s crawling and, sometimes at least, walking, nothing is safe. If a door is left open, he’s through it; if there’s something he shouldn’t touch, he’s got hold of it. All of those toys he had at Christmas are quickly forgotten if he’s got the chance to grab our laptop or chew the hi-fi.
He knows his way around the house now too – put him down upstairs and he can find his way to the shower in seconds; leave the living room door open and he’s in the kitchen banging away on the piano.
So we’ve had to Harry-proof the house. We’ve got gates up everywhere and parts of the house now resemble a prison.
We’ve also had to rearrange the furniture in some parts of the house to keep Harry away from anything dangerous. Our front room, for instance, is now carefully arranged to stop him going near the fireplace or television. At least this gives him a little bit of freedom to roam – he’s already outgrown his playpen.
He still needs to be watched at all times though – he’s becoming quite skilled at climbing over and into things. The other day he managed to get into his toy box, which was previously an effective barrier to the television. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t get out of it but I know it’s only a matter of time.
It was therefore a huge relief when we took him Blue Bears Play Barn in Wrexham, an indoor play area – fully cushioned – that he can explore without giving us heart failure.
Harry had a great time and, I’ll admit it, so did I, chasing after him as he climbed stairs, negotiated obstacles and generally tired himself out. One of the highlights was sitting him on my knee as we shot down one of the larger slides.
Of course Harry was fast asleep the moment we put him in the car. I was quite tired too and realised that crawling around on all fours for an hour isn’t ideal for a man approaching his mid-thirties. It was certainly worth the aches and pains afterwards, though.
Now Harry’s crawling and, sometimes at least, walking, nothing is safe. If a door is left open, he’s through it; if there’s something he shouldn’t touch, he’s got hold of it. All of those toys he had at Christmas are quickly forgotten if he’s got the chance to grab our laptop or chew the hi-fi.
He knows his way around the house now too – put him down upstairs and he can find his way to the shower in seconds; leave the living room door open and he’s in the kitchen banging away on the piano.
So we’ve had to Harry-proof the house. We’ve got gates up everywhere and parts of the house now resemble a prison.
We’ve also had to rearrange the furniture in some parts of the house to keep Harry away from anything dangerous. Our front room, for instance, is now carefully arranged to stop him going near the fireplace or television. At least this gives him a little bit of freedom to roam – he’s already outgrown his playpen.
He still needs to be watched at all times though – he’s becoming quite skilled at climbing over and into things. The other day he managed to get into his toy box, which was previously an effective barrier to the television. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t get out of it but I know it’s only a matter of time.
It was therefore a huge relief when we took him Blue Bears Play Barn in Wrexham, an indoor play area – fully cushioned – that he can explore without giving us heart failure.
Harry had a great time and, I’ll admit it, so did I, chasing after him as he climbed stairs, negotiated obstacles and generally tired himself out. One of the highlights was sitting him on my knee as we shot down one of the larger slides.
Of course Harry was fast asleep the moment we put him in the car. I was quite tired too and realised that crawling around on all fours for an hour isn’t ideal for a man approaching his mid-thirties. It was certainly worth the aches and pains afterwards, though.
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
Happy New Year
HARRY’S nearly a year old now and I’d like to think I’ve learned a little bit about being a parent.
I’ve learned, for instance, that as well as being the most rewarding and exciting thing I’ve ever done, it can also be quite tough at times, particularly when you’re in need of a good night’s sleep.
I’ve also learned that grandparents are seriously underrated; shipping Harry off to nan and grandad’s for the night is a luxury that helps remedy the aforementioned sleep deprivation.
Other important lessons include: learning not to relax, it’s impossible as soon as a baby learns to crawl or walk; being prepared for anything before leaving the house (two changes of clothes for Harry sometimes isn’t enough); and the power of bribery – a shampoo bottle is the current favourite – when confronted with a baby who doesn’t want his nappy changed.
Perhaps the most important lesson, though, has been that late nights are now a thing of the past.
Since Harry was born, I can probably count on one hand the number of times Melissa or myself has been awake beyond half ten. However, we decided to make an exception for New Year’s Eve – my brother and his wife had come over from Nottingham so it would have been rude to slope off to bed before seeing in the new year.
So, with Harry safely tucked up in bed, we had a couple of drinks and managed to see in the new year, enjoying a very pleasant evening in the process.
Unfortunately for us, Harry, who had been a little off colour for a couple of days and hadn’t been eating a great deal, woke up at 6am on New Year’s Day feeling much better – and hungrier.
Of course this meant there was no chance of a lie-in leaving us with a stark reminder that late nights and babies just don’t mix.
I’ve learned, for instance, that as well as being the most rewarding and exciting thing I’ve ever done, it can also be quite tough at times, particularly when you’re in need of a good night’s sleep.
I’ve also learned that grandparents are seriously underrated; shipping Harry off to nan and grandad’s for the night is a luxury that helps remedy the aforementioned sleep deprivation.
Other important lessons include: learning not to relax, it’s impossible as soon as a baby learns to crawl or walk; being prepared for anything before leaving the house (two changes of clothes for Harry sometimes isn’t enough); and the power of bribery – a shampoo bottle is the current favourite – when confronted with a baby who doesn’t want his nappy changed.
Perhaps the most important lesson, though, has been that late nights are now a thing of the past.
Since Harry was born, I can probably count on one hand the number of times Melissa or myself has been awake beyond half ten. However, we decided to make an exception for New Year’s Eve – my brother and his wife had come over from Nottingham so it would have been rude to slope off to bed before seeing in the new year.
So, with Harry safely tucked up in bed, we had a couple of drinks and managed to see in the new year, enjoying a very pleasant evening in the process.
Unfortunately for us, Harry, who had been a little off colour for a couple of days and hadn’t been eating a great deal, woke up at 6am on New Year’s Day feeling much better – and hungrier.
Of course this meant there was no chance of a lie-in leaving us with a stark reminder that late nights and babies just don’t mix.
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