Boys will be… boys!

There’s no denying it, boys is troubles.

If they’re not fighting over some silly toy or which TV programme to watch, they’re arguing with us, the wife and I.

It doesn’t necessarily matter what I’m actually talking about, as you, the reader, can simply pick an element of ‘life’, and use that in the imagination part of this blog post. For instance, they’ll argue and scream blue-murder about something as trivial as whether there’s too much water in their cup, or the food is too hot/cold, or whether there’s too much or too little on their plate to eat.

Ignoring the fact that whatever they are actually arguing about, the ‘problem’ itself could be rectified immediately, but they insist on dragging things out, as tired little boys do.

All of this arguing, to’ing and fro’ing, has made me remember-back to how things were when I was their ages, and how life was different in some ways.  It’s difficult to stop one’s self from this, and I’m sure I’m only remembering the bits I want to remember, but nonetheless, I’m still dragging myself back all those year, for the simple sake of comparison.

Yes, we all argued, me and my brother, Russell, or my and my sister, Emma. Or Emma and Russell, or any other combination of the three of us against each other.  We fought, screamed and argued our way through the foundation years of our lives, which has inadvertently become the Brett Rigby Benchmark, used for the comparisons of life mentioned above.

We were probably no different to how Jack and Oliver are now, in that we, too, were very spoilt little children who had almost EVERYTHING we could dream for and more, and had no idea about the values of things… as children don’t.

Our parents worked. They bought us lots of things, and we didn’t go without.  They’re in the same boat.

But the other thing I keep reminding myself about, is that we’ve not done this whole ‘parenting’ thing before, and there’s no manual that helps.  As an IT geek, there are rules for making things work; but life ain’t that easy. And so, we’re trying to find out how to do this for ourselves. 

By and large, we’re doing ok with it – not amazingly, like people dream and envisage whilst the lady is still carrying, but ok.  We have our good days, but we’re probably outweighed with our days of late, in shouting at an angry, argumentative (spoilt) child. 

Of course, we want to do the best we can, and Claire and I are always talking about something that’s recently happened, and what we can do as parents to fix it, or make sure it doesn’t happen again, etc. We spend nights awake talking about this stuff, but sometimes I think it’s also a little of Jack/Oliver learning for themselves, too.  They’re learning the same boundaries that I did as a child; they’re learning that bad things mean good things are sent away for a bit; they’re learning who they are too, just as I did.

So, maybe boys will be boys, but we’re trying to help them learn from the mistakes we made in the past too, and sometimes, they need to make mistakes for themselves in the first place.

"Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies"

So, I’ve got two boys. ‘Chalk’ Rigby and ‘Cheese’ Rigby.

Jack…
Simply. Cannot. Lie.

He tries; once he's thought about it for a moment, but then messes it up. We even got thrown off of a water slide at Center Parcs because Jack ‘fessed up at the wrong moment, after I told the slide-man at the top that he’d been on it before, despite being under the funny minimum height-measuring stick by a smidgeon.  So, it was the swimming pool walk of shame, right down past all the others, each then doubting their own ability to ride.

Master Oliver, however, has definitely got the 'little boy gene' for telling porkies. Sometimes it's just over embellishment, which as adults normally happens with your mates having a pint in the pub. But this kid's certainly a ‘live wire’.

Outright and not bothered, I'll see him do something, whether it's whack Jack or throw something, and then flat-out lie about it, to my face. Then, later, he'll then believe his version of events, fictitious of course, and then we'll have a repeat argument/discussion about it. 

I always had a good imagination, and this probably helped/hindered me and my lying ability as a child (don’t check this my folks!) and this is probably just what Oli is doing. It’s just the blatant-ness of it all which is amusing, but not helpful if you need to tell him off at the same time!!  Little snot.

“I’ve got something to tell you”

I wanted to make note of this, as it made me really smile and don’t want to forget it. Ever.

I was just walking out of the front door to get into the car, and Claire and Oliver were in the hallway, and just as I crossed the threshold, Oli says “Dad, I’ve got something to tell you.”

Intrigued, I looked at Claire, expecting some form of a ‘play-along’ look from her, but instead she had no idea of what he was about to say either.

Oli came towards me, and held offered his hands out, as if to draw me closer and whisper something.

I went along with it. I bend down, lent forward, offered up my right ear, half expecting either a soft little kiss, or a shout/scream in my lug-hole. But instead, I got this, (AND BEARING IN MIND HE’S STILL TWO YEARS OLD!):

“It’s nearly Christmas time.”

I don’t know where it came from, why he said it, or why it needed to have been said just then, like that. But there it was. And do you know what? He ain’t daft - it is nearly Christmas time, and all!

I think Oli is a fish.

Claire has been taking Oli to swimming lessons from about the same age as Jack, probably at about 15-20 weeks old.

They go to the Calm-A-Baby pool in Peterborough, where the heated pool is absolutely baking hot whilst you’re sitting on the side waiting, but lovely once you’re in.  The children love it, and best of all, they don’t go blue due to the coldness!

Anyway, there seems to have been a turning point in Oliver’s swimming, as he is like a little fish! He can hold his breathe and kick like mad under water, which actually gives him forward propulsion! He can get things from the bottom of the pool, providing you give him that fatherly shove, of course.

He likes to jump in, and splash around like any 2 year old little monster, but it always makes me laugh to see him when we’re both underwater; when he realises that you’re looking at him, he looks straight back with the biggest, cheesiest grin ever.

He just loves it.

Until you want to get out. Then it’s a nightmare.

Progress Update

Jack is almost 6yrs old and Oliver almost 3.

Each of The Rigby Boys have their own unique take on life and, despite it sounding like an obvious thing to say, they are SO very different from each other, it’s unreal.

Problem is, I can’t remember without watching videos, exactly how Jack was at the age that Oli is now, so it could be that they’re quite similar. But when we do see photos or videos of Jack at this age, there are still similarities!

Jack is doing very well at trying to understand the entire world before lunch, and Oliver’s vocabulary is growing massively each day, along with big improvements in his pronunciation too.

We’re finding with Jack that he more appreciates the company of older children, but more so the company of an adult. Will come back to this particular topic another day, as there’s a bit more to say on it.

Oli is just a barrel of laughs – there’s always a reason to tickle him and there’s always a giggle waiting in response.  He’s been sleeping through the night for the past 5/6 months now, and it’s made the world of difference to Claire and I, as we’re both able to sleep, which is amazing.

Summary: in all, they’re both great boys. Different in many ways, but both good fun to be around.

Fighting, then friends

Sometimes it’s a job to work these two out.

First they're going out of their way to annoy each other (mostly Jack though, to be fair to Oliver!) and then the next minute, they're cuddling and confessing their undying love.

A few weeks ago, it seemed a bit of a stretch to imagine that they'd play nicely together. And now, they're getting on much better, which is great. When they're quiet sometimes, it can be a bit of a worry and Claire and I would find ourselves sneaking up on them to see what they're doing, expecting to catch them in the act of some form of wrong-doings. To be honest, it's a bit disconcerting to find them playing with the Batman action-figures!

iPads and digital tech

I've mentioned about my concerns with this before, but am fully aware that I am apportioned my fair share of blame for it. I am referring to the use of tech equipment with our boys.

A while back, we had a nursery report about Jack saying that his hand-to-eye co-ordination was poor, meaning that his ability to control a mouse on a PC was rubbish. And yes, this was slapping me in the face with a wet fish as, being the resident IT geek, his tech skills were non-existent, mainly due to my deliberate efforts to steer him away from computers and stuff as I spend all day working on them, instead favouring to encourage him to play with non-geek toys ad games.

Since then, I've stepped up efforts to align his hand-to-eye coordination, and he now has (limited) access to a desktop PC and his typing is getting better. At this point, probably on-par with my dad's typing speeds! (Sorry Pa!)

So. Yes, iPads, and the term being plural.

My iPad seemed to be taken over by Oliver during meal times, as it is actually difficult to distract two boys in hitting and kicking proximity from each other - we know how important it is for the boys eat properly and eat good meals, which is why Claire spends an amazing amount of time cooking in bulk for them, and why we've got about 25 fridges and freezers running, in order to store them. By distracting them with TV and/or tablet-based motion, we're able to shovel food into them, and this being the good food described above, there's a lot less wastage than without them.

So, either way, good or bad, we've sort of painted ourselves into this corner of them liking to watch something whilst dining. They’re kids anyway, so conversation is quite limited at meal times. But, on the flip side, they eat great meals, with a large portion of fruit within their breakfasts and desserts, so, whatever.

Previously, Oliver would have CBeebies-based TV shows on the iPad, whilst Jack watched CITV or CBBC on the TV, as these were aimed at an older audience. Not so much of a problem.

But as Oliver has very recently taken an interest in Jack's content of choice, it's become a little more difficult. As Oli is watching something that Jack would normally, Jack's attention would be caught and subsequently, he'd frequently reach across and 'assist' Oliver in his choice of viewing material. Obviously, Oliver is delighted at this and gladly lets him… NOT.

Arguments would kick off and our normally peaceful meal times are turned into a slapping match for two young nippers.

So, we decided that we'd keep an eye out for a bargain deal on iPads, such that we'd get another one to ease the tension, but a keen-eyed-Claire spotted a considerable pile of Nectar points sitting idle, as to be honest, I've seen these as pointless in the past, and noticed that we could use them as part payment towards one. So, a pile of now-not-useless Nectar points and £100 later, and we've got a second iPads. As you do.

The iPads are not ownership of the boys - they are reminded that it's not "Jack's iPad", or "Oliver's iPad", but each is customised accordingly.

So, back to my original point after a longer than anticipated description of how we got here: Kids and tech.

What are our children (collectively, not just mine, but in general) going to be like when they're older? They have never not had a time in their lives without the ability to go online to watch videos instantly online of pretty much whatever they want, and even to be able to choose from a wide range of digital videos streamed in-house from my NAS (Network Attached Storage) as and when they want to. In fact, during a recent car trip, we had to explain why the Wi-Fi wasn't available!!

Will they ever need to sit in a communal room in the same house, and watch something together like we did when we were young? We were lucky enough to have a variety of VHS-based movies to watch as kids, and we'd have to settle arguments as to which one we watched, due to having only one VHS machine. Now, there are TVs, phones, tablets, laptops and desktops in my house that can get online.

There's even an internet connected PC in my car!

I know we're not helping this, and me being a geek at work and at home is compounding the problem. But at least I am aware of what the problem is, and that I know I need to understand the situation fully in order to come up with a solution, as opposed to being ignorant and carrying on regardless.

And not that I feel I need to explain myself to anyone, but for the record, the boys aren't allowed full and unfettered access to any of these devices - they are allowed to use them when we let them, but each is taken away to encourage proper children's playtime.

Jack thinks he's 'Bad'

A while back, Jack had a liking of Elvis Presley's music, particularly the Suspicious Minds song. In an attempt to divert him away from the crooner's tunes, I told Jack about Michael Jackson, thinking that I must have an album laying around somewhere.

Or at least I thought I did. Turns out, the 'Bad' album I thought I had probably perished ages ago when the cassette tape dried up or something, as we'd expect in the age of digital downloads.

Anyway, a couple of quid and a day's delivery later, and a CD of Michael Jackson's Bad album was delivered by those delightful chums at eBay. Since then, it's been the number one CD in the mini-CD player in Jack's bedroom.

The track of choice was 'Bad', as we had watched the YouTube video whilst waiting for delivery, but had soon introduced him to the 'Smooth Criminal' track too, as well as its video, as I remember watching that as a child too.

He likes it so much, that he even danced to them during a recent street party, where the karaoke man was presented with the CD by Jack!

"Hello, Cousin!"

I don't know where it came from, but for weeks now, young Oliver has been repeating this actually-quite-pleasant phrase, in relation to his cousins, my sisters' boys.

He raises his hand in very delicate way, as if to say hello, but waves it in a semi-circular motion, whilst saying 'hello, cousins' in a silly-yet-still-lovingly way.

Probably couldn't describe it as well as he does it, but it makes us all smile and giggle when he does it, so I wanted to make a note here to remember it when he's a monstrous teenager and throwing his weight around!

First contact…

It’s bothered me for a while about how the boys are going to respond to the fact that I’ve been writing a blog, with them as the core topic.  Would they be intrigued, bothered or embarrassed about it being about them?

Well, tonight, unexpectedly, I found out, with Master Jack as the one asking questions.

He’s been reading a book about a 14 year old that has circumnavigated the globe, which was a fascinating book in itself, but there were references within the book about ‘blogging’, as he’d kept his notes and memoirs online.  Claire had to explain to Jack what a blog is, understandably, but also then mentioned that he geek-o dad had been keeping notes himself.

So tonight, instead of the now-traditional bedtimes stories as written by Charles Dickens, we picked out and read a handful of Brett Rigby Blog Posts. Hardly comparable, but made me proud/happy that someone was interested to ask about it!

We started with the very first blog post, introducing the world to my inner-brain, set the scene a little, explained a few Brett-devised things, such as his project codename, and then skipped some of the boring pre-birth stuff, as this seemed a little dreary to him. And to me, by now!

Obviously, being a boy and now fie years old at that, he bored quite quickly of the occasional blog post I picked out, as they were interesting to me, but not him.  Unless of course they happened to mention the words ‘wee’ or ‘poo’ and the like, as (being me) I obviously wrote them with some sarcastic humour… to which he loved.

We read the first post that I had written in 2014, where at this point, Oliver was well and truly in our little lives for sure, but this particular post was about Jack and how I’d forgotten how young he still was at that age, and I suppose still is, relatively-speaking. Despite it being written six months ago, though, nothing’s changed in terms of Jack’s sleeping abilities and is always awake before 6am and fighting with us as to why he’s not allowed to go downstairs by himself.

Very conveniently for Claire and I, I read the ‘Amazon-Jack’ blog post to him, as this sort of re-iterated what we’ve been trying to get across to Jack about his fantastic reading abilities, and that it comes as a result of some hard work on Claire’s part, as well as some very heavy credit-card spending, I might add!! I suppose that as he’s not know any different and is probably too young to be interested in comparisons between himself and his peers, he thinks that it’s ‘normal’, which I know it is, but he’s able to read signs on shops now, ‘help’ me navigate when driving by reading directions on roadsigns and so on.  What I am trying to say (badly) is that I feel he and his reading is a product of invested time and hard work on our part, which I know that we are both very proud of, knowing that whatever he does in life, where-ever he goes, he’s always going to read something, and that we did that for him, as opposed to ignore him and let him watch TV until 10pm. 

Anyway, I digress, he read in that blog post about how his reading bands jumped from one to the next, and again and again and it sort of looked for a moment that he might have twigged that reading is probably the best thing in the world, and the smile on his little face might have suggested that he liked it – which I know he does. 

Showing this blogging-lark to him for the first time also highlighted to Claire, Jack and I as to how much I had initially written, but had subsequently slowed right down on since then. Obviously, I have my reasons for not being able to write as much as I could have done, but it also reminded me that I do actually like doing this, and that maybe I ought to write more. Especially given that Oliver will discover this one day and will also want to know about things related to him as well as all of us, so had better get writing, thus adding to the mental weight of being a blogger!!

Bubble Guns

Oliver is now two, and is perfectly aged for potty training.

Or so we thought.

He’s had and understood the idea about weeing into a potty or toilet for a little while now, but we’ve been struggling to convince him about the poos.  He even ask for a nappy, such that he’d then toddle-off into a quiet corner somewhere to think. And to squeeze one out. And just for kicks at seeing his mum or dad having to clear it up, I’m sure the little monster squashes it in a little by sitting down a bit, such that’s stuck to his bum cheeks and smeared all over.

So, of course, we reverted to what any self-respecting parent would do.

Bribery.

Oh yes. And if you’re a parent that’s never bribed your child, then I call you liar.  Except, clever parents these days put a positive spin on it, and call it “positive reinforcement”, or something like that. Bribery, plain and simple, and it works.

Claire bought a (cheap) battery-powered, bubble-blowing gun from the supermarket. Quiet clever, that you screw a bottle of bubble mixture to the butt of the gun and theoretically, pull the trigger to find bubbles galore.

Well, as this was the bribery device, it sat on the high shelf in it’s packaging and out of reach, and when Oliver was sitting on the toilet, we’d tell him about this gun, teasing and taunting. Erm, I mean, positively reinforcing the notion of a child-friendly bubble-producing firearm.  And he’d respond, asking for it, because we’re grown ups and are really good at describing toys in a carrot/stick manner and he’d be convinced that he needed it, sometimes to the point of tears.

But there’d always be a little sadness when he wouldn’t ‘produce’, so to speak, and we’d end up with the phrase of ‘no poo, no gun’. Heck, I’d buy him five more if he’d have just poo’d a little chip out. But no. Stubborn-minded, just like… his mum. Or his Grandad Garry.

Each time, every 30 or so minutes we’d take him to the toilet and dangle him over it so that he wouldn’t fall in (again - ha ha haaaaa!), asking nicely and politely for a poo, but producing a wee, and so we’d keep up with the taunts. And reinforcements.  Or whatever.

But then when my mum was about to go, after having them whilst we were both at work, Oli came running into me, with the removable insert to the potty from the lounge (yes, lounge – they’re *everywhere*) saying “dad – look!”.

Obviously, seeing what you know to be an important piece from a potty-jigsaw being carried by a small child, you have to assume the worst and panic. Like, headless-chicken almost, thinking it’s brimming full of child-wee and probably already sloshed over the sofa and half of the dog. Panic.

I took this off like he had handed me an unexploded grenade or something, only to find its contents were not that liquid and runny, but full of what I can only describe as ‘curly man-poo’, and from that phrase alone, I’m sure you’ll already have a perfect picture sewn neatly into your brain as to what I’ll remember for years to come.

Yes. Indeed. The boy had poo’d and poo’d like a trooper.

And what did he say next?

“Bubble gun!”

I rest my case.

Biking up the road!

A while ago, we bought Jack a funky-looking trike – bright colours, bigger wheels, the lot.  It took ages to put it together and then he didn’t use it, as it was a struggle to climb on to it, because of it’s size in comparison to him.  It’s really good, as it’s even got a handle on the back for us to push with, but it also twists too, which controls the steering – fantastic!

Anyway, now he’s a bit bigger and a lot more sure of himself, he’s able to climb onto the trike much easier than before, even though it still looks like a struggle to me!  So, we’ve been pushing him around the inside of the house, and was ok with it, but not entirely sure, as straight lines can be a bit boring.

So today, to liven things up a little, I put Jack’s shoes and coat on him, sat him on his trike and strapped him in (using the built-it seat belt – safety first and all that). He looked a bit worried as I pushed him out the front door (i.e. down the step!!), but he looked a little better when we started to go around the back of the house on the brick patio, occasionally off-roading on the grass for a bit more excitement.

Making full use of his baby-sign language, the two hands come together to make the expression of ‘more’, meaning “don’t stop now, Dad!”.

All went well, so I upped the ante a little, and I pushed him out through the gate and onto the front garden, making circles around my car and various stones for a bit of extra ‘spice’, as it corners quite quickly.   Again, the baby-hands come out to say ‘more’, but this time, he’s pointing down the road, as if to say, “Take me that way, peasant!”.

And so, I did.

We were off up the road, made a quick u-turn on the pavement a good stone’s throw away from our house, and then back, stopping occasionally to check the expression on his face, as although we’ve simply gone a little further than before, the stones on the pavement shake the plastic-wheeled trike, but he’s still held on.  When I’ve checked his face, he’s got a beaming smile on, from ear to ear with his eyes wide open! He loves it.

‘More, MORE!’, as the hands come together with a bit more force.  Back past our house, to the same distance the other way, again, beaming smiles whilst the wind rushes through his little blonde hair, as by now we’re walking at a decent pace, too.

I originally put the seat-belt on, as a means of slowing him down in case he wanted to get off, buying me enough time to grab him before he stacks himself on the floor in a heap.  The fact is, he didn’t even need it, as he didn’t want to get off – he was holding the bright yellow grips firmly in each hand, letting go to wave at the occasional artic lorry that goes chugging by.

Incidentally, it’s a bit weird when your toddler son waves at an articulated lorry that’s coming towards us as the road bends through the village, only to see the cab-filling-driver inside waving back, floppy-armed mimicking the way that Jack was waving at him! 

Embarrassed, I waved back, smiling as if to say, “Erm, yeah, hi.” 

Personality? Check!

I know it probably sounds like an odd thing to say, but Jack has developed his own little personality which has almost appeared from nowhere!

What I mean, is that he’s got his likes, his dislikes and then he’s got his own way of expressing his choices to us, all in a good way.

When Jack was a little baby, he cried, poo’d and then cried some more after a little bit of sleep. When we gave him food, he eat it. All. When we gave him his bottle of milk, he drank almost all of it, all of the time.

Now, if he’s not interested in something like food, or doesn’t want to finish his milk, he can be quite stubborn and not have it. We try each time we feed him now to give him lots of food before he gets bored, and then change something so that it is different and so on. With his milk though, once he’s had enough there’s no changing his mind. Obviously a trait he’s got from his mum!! ;o)

But food and drink aside, it’s weird to see him do the things he wants to do, and also funny watching him throw a bit of a tantrum when he’s doing something he doesn’t want to do.

Like for instance, he likes watching the cars, lorry, etc go by outside the window, or when we’re driving along, he’s now tall enough to see over the passenger seat in my car and he’ll point out a bus at quite a way away. Sometimes, we can even use this car/lorry watching as a means of calming him down when he’s upset or bumped his head or whatever. He’ll happily stand on the window-sill in our bedroom, holding onto the window handle with one hand and the other smacking or prodding the window as and when he sees fit. And yes, we are always directly behind him, before you think otherwise!

The past few weeks, he’s been a bit more clingy than he’s probably ever been before – which means carrying him around all the time, which is ok for a while, but when you need to put him down to get his or our food ready, he can get quick upset, and quite quickly too. He soon gets over it if we try to ignore him, as there’s things that we have to do without him in our arms, such as getting food in or out of the oven, etc. It’s then that the tears come out straight away, mouth wide open and the screams start! Literally within about 30 seconds, he’s seen a toy or something he wants to play with, or somewhere he can go and investigate and it’s as though he forgets what he was all upset about!

I’m really glad that Claire’s been making a massive effort with him in taking him to Sign And Sign classes – baby sign, that is. I think that you can already see in his face when he’s not happy about something, and if his baby signing improves further, then this might alleviate more problems down the line, or make them easier for us to understand what he’s after or trying to do. He’s already got a certificate for proving that he can wave his hands to tell us little things, which is what it’s all about. If he’s able to tell us in a simple yet effective sign of his hands that he’s not able to verbally pronounce, then it’s great.

At the moment, he’s able to, basically, ask for more of something; this is what he got his first certificate for. If we give him a baby-biscuit, or a chocolate button or something that he likes, he uses both hands to sign the word for ‘more’ and then he points at what he wants. Simple. Bonjella is a good one for that – he likes the taste of Bonjella teething gel and, if you let him, he’ll have the lot. (Except, that’s bad, as he’s only allowed 2 or 3 ‘shots’ a day of it!)

Good stuff though. He’s funny to be around and is always up for a game of peek-a-boo!

Past couple of weeks…

So, so many things have happened in the past few weeks.

Jack is an absolute star. He’s eating a lot better again now after having a stint of eating bits, probably because of teething again.

No, he’s not walking… yet. We keep trying to make him walk between us, as well as getting him to walk with him holding our hands. Having said all that, he’ll happily scale the walls, sofa, cupboard doors, etc, which is what’s slightly infuriating, to say the least.

He’s understanding more and more about what we say, more than we know, probably. How do we know this? Well, he’s getting better at pointing at things when we mention them and trying his best to pronounce them but still sounds all goo-goo ga ga, which is still funny.

Unless it’s really early in the morning, he’s usually pretty spot on with his cars, trucks, lorries, and so on which are still dotted around the room. I keep adding the occasional new photo to the collection; we now have a Police car, Ambulance and a Fire Engine, as well as a blue Porsche and a photo of Mater from Disney’s Cars (as he really likes that!)

Distractions

Bit of a wide-ranging topic/title, but still quite appropriate, and here’s why:

Jack is getting to that age whereby he’s listening to what you’re saying, and although he can’t talk back, he pretty much knows what’s going on.

He’s able to point, or at the very least ‘stare’ at various objects in the room that you ask him about, such as the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen, the telly on the sideboard, where his high-chair is, and so on. And they’re things that he understands what you’re talking about and will move to look for them.

These objects in the room have come in quite handy when he’s been having a tantrum or not eating his food, distracting him from what he was doing and allowing you a moment’s breathe to win the fight. Dirty tactics? Maybe. Does it work? Mostly.

On the other hand, there are those other distractions in the house that take Jack’s focus away from what Claire and I want him to concentrate on. The main culprit for this happens to be our friendly pooch, Alfie, who must know when to come marching into the kitchen when we’re trying to feed Jack, or stand there whimpering by the front door wanting to go out and bark at something. Jack is quite taken by Alfie and we’re really glad that they’re not scared of each other, etc, but when you’re trying to get things done first thing in the morning before getting ready yourself to go to work, it’s not the best of help you could expect from the dog.

In terms of me, this blog site and distractions, I’ve had a little too many of them myself recently. (Hence the radio-silence on here and then all of a sudden a burst of activity!) I think it’s too easy to let something like blogging slip, especially when tired after getting up at silly-o’clock in the morning with Jack and then going to work, etc, etc. Excuses, I know, but I know I enjoy writing these posts, so I’ll try to make a conscious effort!!

Maybe another problem, is that we’ve started an internal blog at work and I think it’s fair to say I’ve contributed to it enough recently, and maybe that’s taken away my blogging concentration-quota recently, (or at least the desire to blog at home), despite the topics being totally separate.

In addition to all of this, the actual amount of spare time I have is significantly reduced; something that I was fully aware would happen, and I’ve ‘tried’ to cater for it, but it’s not until you literally have *no* spare time that you appreciate it. So, when I do get a little spare time, I’ve got work/projects that I want to get on and do, and this ‘playtime’ comes mostly at about 8pm – 10pm.

I’m not moaning or complaining about any of this, it’s just that I think that this is a key area of being a parent that I think is worth highlighting for those who have not yet had the joys of being a parent. Maybe this is why parents look forward to shipping their children out when they’re old enough to move out, as the spare time factor returns? Only another 18 years left then…

December already??

It sounds strange to say, but it really doesn’t feel like it should be December already. The weeks and months have disappeared; Jack is now 10 months old and his first Christmas is literally just around the corner, adding weight to they “they grow up fast” argument.

So, what’s happened in the past month since I last blogged? Lots, but where to start.

Jack is doing really well. He’s growing taller and filling out a lot more now, as he’s doing much better with his eating. He’s still eating the food that Claire’s been making for him, which is great. Despite all the work that making the food for him is, I think we’re both really pleased not only that we're able to do that for him, but also what he’s actually getting is exactly what Claire puts in the pan; no extra salt, preservatives, etc.

As he is relatively tall for his age, I think at one point we were a *little* concerned that he was a slightly under the weight-line on the graphs, but when comparing your little baby against a line on a graph, working in percentiles of the countries’ babies, it’s a little easy to get tied up in it all. Stats are just that, in my opinion and as long he’s not off at an extreme, he’s doing ok.

There are some areas of baby-life like this that make me wonder: Just how did people survive years ago without charts and averages etc? People seem to have managed without know what percentile their little bundle of joy is in, and they’ve obviously grown up just fine.

As I said in the last blog post, we all had a helping of Hand, Foot and Mouth disease, which was nice. We’re all good now and to be honest, I’m glad to see the back of it. I hate feeling ill – it seems so… unproductive!! It’s not that we’re *blaming* Jack for us getting it, but he did have it first and managed to get rid of it quickly too…!

He’s not far from walking now, we think. We keep sitting opposite each other on the floor in his playroom, and encouraging him to take a few steps towards one of us, and he’s getting there. He does try, but gravity is a constant force, and one that Jack hasn’t quite come to grips with yet!! He’ll gladly scale the stairs if you let him. And fairly quick too, seeing as each step is chest-height and there’s loads of them, he doesn’t do too badly.

His crawling has improved also. He’s been commando-crawling for as long as he could crawl, but the past week maybe, he’s been crawling ‘properly’, as one would imagine a baby to crawl.

What else can I think has happened? Brain-mush. I might have to post this blog item and get another one posted when I remember what else has happened, as otherwise, this will never get uploaded!!

What’s been going on?

Well, lots really, and that’s probably why I haven’t had much time to write much on here about it all.

Jack is getting on really well – he’s not yet walking, talking or voting or anything like that, but he’s getting there.

Walking – he’s now at that stage whereby he wants to push his baby walker around the house, rather than sit in it. In fact, I’ve tried to put him in it several times over the last week or two and he just gets annoyed/frustrated, as that wasn’t what he wanted! He just wants to stand behind it, and push it until he runs out of house to push it to, then turns around and does the same thing again.

He’s getting more and more confident with his walking too – he’s now in ‘cruising’ mode, which means that he can stand up-right using against the sofa and use it help him along it to where he wants to go, but as far as proper steps are going, not yet.

Talking – he’s starting to say words like ‘mama’, ‘dada’, ‘kaaah’ (for ‘car’ as they go by the front of the house) but these words are currently all interchangeable, and it makes for a change to be called a car and the dustbin be called ‘dada’. Claire’s dad is trying to get him to say ‘Thermostatic Radiator Valves’, but I think this might be a few more days off yet, Grand-dad.

Voting – Well, not in the sense that you’re thinking, nor that I probably implied, but in a way, he is trying to get his point across by waiving his hand/finger in the area as if to say ‘take me that way, peasant!’, but mostly it’s towards the Sky box, which he desperately needs to hit with his fist, and then push right to the back of the TV stand, whilst holding onto the Playstation.

Illness - He’s had his first proper virus – Hand Foot and Mouth disease. No, it’s not the Foot and Mouth disease that sheep and cows get, but more the baby variety that extends to the mouth also. And I don’t get why it’s called a disease, as when I think ‘disease’, I think like serious, proper diseases, not infections like this.

So, Jack had it first and then soon passed it onto his ma and pa for good measure. Basically, it’s an infectious virus transferred through the saliva and poo, and results in a majorly sore throat and spots/blisters on the hands/arms, feet/legs and face around the mouth area.

Jack had it for a few days, and prior to the spots appearing, we honestly thought he was off his food because of another tooth coming through (he currently has the four front teeth), until Claire took him to the Quack’s to find out it’s HF&M.

He was up crying a lot of the nights, but didn’t seem to take long before he was back to normal. The spots are very nearly gone, and the only ones left are the ones that blistered really badly and was sore. The ones on his face have almost gone entirely with very little or no marking left behind.

As I said, Claire and I have both had it too, as well as my mum catching it too. Claire had the spots and a bit of a sore throat for a few days – I had loads of spots and probably the worst sore throat I have ever had. It got to the point whereby I could only really eat ice-cream and Angel Delight, drinking only pints of Nesquik banana milkshake, as everything else felt like it was burning a hole in the back of my throat, and then came the pain of actually trying to swallow something.

It honestly felt I had a ball of nails wedged at the rear of my throat for days. I’m in day six of recover now and it’s the first day I haven’t need to rush for the pain killers. The pain is still there and definitely on it’s way out, but I really hope I don’t come across that one again. ‘Thanks’ Jack.

My mum came over one afternoon, picked up ‘the lurgie’ and also had time off work because of it!

“More Room!” - In other news, Jack has taken over another room in the house – we’ve ejected the spare bed and made way for his playroom. It’s much better, as it means that all of his toys are based up there now, and we can have the downstairs back to semi-normal again.

Booby-Juice is no longer on the menu for Jack. Claire was hoping to slow this down just before she started back at work, but it turns out the well started to go dry by itself naturally. He’s now on powered-milk, also known as ‘plastic-milk’, which is ok, but it smells really bad/different to anything else. He doesn’t seem to notice the difference.

Food – Jack has eating things from the real world too. If we’re eating something that we think he might try, he has a bit of that.

The meals that Claire is making for him are probably better than the stuff we’re eating, as it’s all cooked fresh for him and contains absolutely no rubbish in there at all; all of the menus up until recently have come from the Annabel Karmel recipe books, but she’s also been scouring the internet for new recipes for him.

Actually, the meals that he has isn’t just baby-mush – they’re all using things like rib-eye steak, salmon, and fresh fruit, etc. If they weren’t all blended to a pulp before being frozen, you’d probably eat it and probably like it too. I do (occasionally), and I do.

The first weekend away

Claire, Jack and I went away last weekend for the first time and stayed at Eye Kettleby Lakes in their Hazel lodge.

These ‘lodges’ are 1/2/3 bedroom luxury log cabins (of Switzerland ilk) and are fully kitted out inside with everything you need; kitchen, lounge, bathroom, en-suite, freeview tv and dvd player, and even now have free wireless internet access, if you so desire.

We went a couple of years ago to Eye Kettleby and stayed in the Holly log cabin there and really enjoyed ourselves; it’s such a peaceful place to stop and is just outside of Melton Mowbray and 15 or so miles from Leicester. The log cabins are all quiet private, each with their own hot-tub and bbq area.

A few of our friends (Phil and Lucy) are from Melton originally, and when we said that we was going to Eye Kettleby (last time) for a long weekend, they laughed, wondering why on earth we wanted to do that… but this time around, they actually came over to visit, stopped for a Chinese takeaway and a dip in the ‘tub, and they really liked it! they could see why we wanted to come back, and will probably go back again.

Anyway, the whole point was to have a bit of a break, just the three of us, before Claire goes back to work next week for the first time (properly) since Christmas 2008. AND, the other reason was to have some time together without a computer in sight, as I have been spending a bit of time on the computer recently (working on an ASP .Net MVC database app for someone.) [geek!]

We dordled around a bit over the weekend, and did exactly as we pleased – Jack was absolutely brilliant. Even though he’s in the middle of teething (and therefore crying when it hurts) he was an absolute star.

We also took Jack over to Twycross Zoo, in Warwickshire, which was about an hour’s drive away from where we were, but was told it was the best place to see lots of Monkeys, as well as other animals, such as Giraffes and Elephants – incidentally, they’re just had a new baby elephant there, hence the picture (from their website).

Admittedly, Jack was a little young to fully appreciate the day out, but nonetheless it was fun.

Also, they’re doing lots of work there, so it’s going to be much better in future. Go visit.

All in all, it was a very relaxing weekend away – with the minor exception that we pretty much took the entire house in the back of the car. It was literally packed full with baby stuff, including toys, travel cot, bottle sterilizer, etc. To be fair, it was because we had more space that we didn’t have any reason not to take something… so even if we had bought a bigger car, it would still be packed to the rafters too!

It seems such a long time ago…

I have been re-reading some of the very first blog posts that I had written to get the ball rolling on this whole ‘blogging’ thing, such as ‘What’s the story so far?’ or some of the posts leading up to the ‘FINALLY – He’s been born!’ post, and ultimately, ‘The Package has arrived..!’, which I’m really glad I wrote about as now I’d struggled to remember that day in such detail!!

It all seems like such a long time ago since ‘The First Night’, and even though it’s only 7 or so months ago, it is if you consider what’s happened in the mean-time. Jack has not only been born, but has learnt an awful lot about the world already, including that gravity exists each time he tried to move and that crying usually results in a mummy or a daddy to come running in.

As I said all that time ago, I wanted to start a blog to '”take note on the joys of becoming a father for the first time…” and all that, and I’d like to think that I have in some ways done exactly that.

I have just looked on the bottom right, beneath my mug-shot to see that this will be blog post 101, which I’m also surprised about, as I didn’t think I’d get much time to do this, but also I didn’t think I’d have the patience and concentration to do this, as I tend to get caught up in the new and interesting stuff to do, and sometimes let the stuff I’m meant to be doing drag on a little. Something Claire and my folks might express an opinion on!

People have read some of the posts on here and commented about how nice an idea it is, to record some of the details that might have been forgotten. Admittedly, I haven’t blogged about every little detail about what’s happened, but I’ve tried my best so far, and it is tough to do this. I’m slightly worried that Jack will not like this in the future; I don’t know how I’d feel about it if my folks had recorded a public diary like this. So if you’re reading this in 10 or 15 years Jack, the blog wasn’t actually for you, it was for me, you just happened to be the topic of conversation!!

As most of you might know, ages ago, I created a parallel site to this blog, which is full of almost all of the photos and videos that we have of Jack to date, give or taken the odd day recently. Having a public site (this one) and a private site (that one) has made it easier really to divide the world; I wanted friends and family to see our little man growing up and how much he had changed without making our photos public to the world. Although, admittedly, I didn’t envisage having quite as many photos of him, as we now have 2998 photos in our Juniper folder, now consuming 7.5GB of disk space. Yes, we still make the occasional reference to the codename! But thinking about it, if we’ve taken that many photos in just 7 months, that’s an average of 428 per month. So by the time he’s a year old, we’ll have over 5,000 photos, and by the time he’s ten years old, we’ll have 50,000 photos! I just wonder if Microsoft’s SkyDrive will allow me to hold that many photos online!!

If you get bored at work or even at home, have a look at some of the earlier posts – yes, some of the things I have written make me cringe a bit and others make me look like a spoon, but you’re still reading it so it can’t be that bad!

I think he’s growing…

I know that might sound like an obvious thing to say, but it’s true, as day-to-day, you don’t really notice him growing and changing so much.

The other night, I was looking back at some of the millions of photos of Jack and the countless video clips of him and he seemed all wrinkly and small when he was first born… all screwed up and tiny. His hands were a fraction of the size that they are now and they were a bit baggie with the skin. He had scratch marks on his face and even went a bit blotchy at times!

Now, his hands are bigger and fuller, making the skin on his still-tiny little hands tighter, but more normal-looking if that makes sense? His face seems like it has changed massively since he was born. His hair has changed colour from a dark brown/black to a fair/blonde. He weighs a lot more and fills the pram that he used to occupy just a corner of!

It feels strange to say and think all of this, as he has changed so very much in such a very short space of time, literally 157 days, but on the other hand it seems like he hasn’t changed at all! What I mean, is that it seems like he’s always been how he is now, but then looking back at photos even a couple of months ago, he looks like a different baby entirely. His head and face have changed shape totally.

It has it’s upsides though - He’s much more fun nowadays compared to when he was a new-born baby. Then, he used to just cry and poo all the time. Then he used to cry every night for a couple of hours solid. Then he didn’t really ‘do’ anything, apart from an occasionally gurgle.

Now, he’s different. Now, he giggles, laughs, looks longingly into your eyes with the sweetest of smiles… before gouging one out with sharp nails on the end of the hands that he’s getting good at aiming with.

He is eating semi-normal food too (pureed fruit), which makes a difference. In a way, it sort of separates him in my mind from when he was a ‘tiny’ baby to now being ‘just’ a baby.

He and I sort of ‘play-fight’ on our bed… He doesn’t mind being rolled over again and again as he makes his way across the length or width of the bed and back. He even manages to grab handfuls of my hair whilst I’m blowing raspberries on his neck making him giggle like a little girl. He seems to enjoy being lifted up in the air quickly and ‘caught’, even though he doesn’t actually leave my hands.

But he still saves his special smiles for his mum. Just fake smiles for me, real ones for his ma.