I blinked.

I blinked, and it's November. The time has disappeared and again, I feel bad about the number of blog posts that I've made this summer.

So, I'm currently sitting in the car waiting for Jack, who is having a piano lesson. He's been learning for a couple of months now and seems to be enjoying it, mostly because I think he's learning something new each time he comes here. It's half an hour a week, and then he practises at home. 'Practises'.  He's getting good at playing 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', which he's getting better at, but this song only requires three keys, from three fingers on one hand. He *should* be playing some of the more challenging songs in the book, as they require more effort, namely multiple keys, over two hands.

He can read the music notes as he's playing them straight from the book, which is absolutely brilliant.

Oliver is at home with his mum, and they're probably going to be learning some letters, or short words, as she's been spending quite a lot of time with him going through it, as we did before for Jack.  Oli has picked these up brilliantly, and not through us forcing them down his throat, but more him asking, or observing Jack and his reading.

Oli is now at pre-school, but only doing half days until September, which is the way that the school like to run things. My sister's twins, Callum and Aaron, are in the opposing half of the day, and then, come September, they should be in the same class, but that seems like a lifetime off just yet!

Oliver has grown up massively recently - physically and mentally.  He's a totally different little boy to how Jack was at the same age; Oliver is just as confident and bullet-proof as all snotty-nose kids are at that age, but he's different in that, for one, he's got a little temper on him, and he stamps his feet, and blows raspberries when he gets annoyed. I can't help but smile when he does, but it doesn't help to resolve a situation by smiling or giggling.

They've both learnt to get on with each quite a lot, not through us doing anything very differently, but they've been enjoying each other's company and play toys or games co-operatively, which is a relief.  Don't get me wrong, they can still have their moments, then Oli gets in a strop, and usually Jack ends up worse-off, due to being smacked on the head by a blunt Oli-powered instrument.

School for both of them is going well - Oliver is getting on very well in his class, and making friends and all that. I would say I know what he gets up, but I think children must leave all memories of being at school… at school!

Jack had a bit of a wobbly time at school, which I'll go into another time, but I think he's been getting a bit more fun out of being there.  Something that has lifted his spirits, is that he was given an award for 'Best Academic Achievement' at the end of the last school year, in Summer - this was completely unexpected on all of our parts, and he was quite made up, once he understood what it was that he had been given.  He's definitely my boy there! Ahem.

Oliver has been getting certificates himself, for doing his work on the Reading Eggs website - it's an educational website that makes learning to read a lot more fun, and makes the children WANT to do more chasing certificates and so on.  Again, I'll probably expand on this is in a separate blog post, but in summary, he's doing very well for his age. Again, mine. Ahem.

Oooh - swimming! Oliver is a fish - officially! He's catching Jack up in terms of swimming classes, which isn't a big deal, as the classes get harder as they progress, but both my children can (honestly) swim better than I can.  This is obviously something that makes me proud and happy for them, but then disappointed in myself for not making more of an effort as a child, and for being too clever for dodging swimming lesson at school. My parents are obviously to blame, too, and I think I/we are over-compensating for this, and making sure that they can swim, as it's a brilliant thing to be able to do, as the alternative is to be good at blagging it like I do, which I don't want for them.  Again, more on this too.

So, this has almost turned out into being a summary/catch-up blog post, as a reminder setting for the next blogs, but that’s ok. I can manage that!

Back to basics

Originally, just before Claire went into hospital expecting the pending arrival of young Master Jack, I wanted the blog to be about me and my experiences with regards to babies; it’s sort of drifted off-course a little of late and it’s ended up being a log of their activities and so on, and I want to get back to basics on that.

I think that why the blog ‘drifted’ into notes of their funny moments, is that Jack and subsequently Oliver, have since gone and developed their own characters, attitudes, personalities and so forth, and I guess at the time before Jack was born, I wasn’t expecting a ‘person’ to coming back home from hospital and was focusing on the fact that it was a ‘baby’… a generic, non-descript baby, that we happened to have named. 

You have to bear in mind, here, that as stated in blog post 1, I hadn’t had close family members with children, nor did I get that involved with those of good friends, which I could have done I suppose, but will leave that for another blog-day.  My point being, that I had no real appreciation of babies and the effort that they demand of a parent. (Pretty good job, too, as it might well have put me off!)

Looking back, it’s kind of difficult/weird for a to-be/first-time dad, as these babies almost just appear, yet take 9 months to do so. It’s not so much of a surprise when they do, but for the women with it growing inside of her, there’s a presence all day every day, (and although they let it be known!!) but for the men, it’s just someone else’s belly that gets fatter and fatter.  And then woomph, there’s a baby, that then cries and poos all the time at silly o’clock at night.

At the time of both Jack and Oli being born, it was pretty much “there-and-then” with it all, namely, understanding and managing a baby, on a day-to-day basis. Trying to imagine how they’d look, act, behave as a toddler, 4 year old, 6 year old, etc, was just out of the question, but looking back at photos and videos, their development is abundantly clear - the photos almost map-out the transition stages from generic same-as-everyone-else’s wrinkly, crying, poo-machine to now, being my two boys.

Maybe, because Oliver is becoming more and more independent (as a child) that we’ve been used to with Jack, that Claire and I have had more time to chill out and relax a little. For a while now, Oli has been toilet-trained, such that he can take himself to the toilet and not wear nappies and all that, going places is a billion times easier. There’s no nappy bag, twelve changes of clothes to lug around. As we’re able to do this and get real-time verbal feedback from them as to their state, we can plan things, as opposed to re-act, if you get my drift.  Being given advance notice that we need to stop the car for a wee is much more civilised than either Claire or I having to grope the crotch of our children periodically to check if they’re ‘packing’. Or worse, getting that waft of poo drift through-out the car, and then almost smelling it for hours later.

More fascinating insights from Brett’s brain next time, but this is almost like the line in the proverbial sand, so to speak.

Growing up!

Jack is almost six and Oliver’s just had his third birthday.

Seems like they should both be older than they are, as they seem like we’ve never had a life previous to having children. Which is odd, as the time has just flown by, and sometimes I think, ‘Crikey, my YOUNGEST lad is three years old!’, making me feel older than I ought to!

There was a period of time, although I hadn’t blogged about it, that Jack and Oli weren’t getting on too well, probably about a year ago. Oliver would have just found the ability to manipulate people (as all two year olds do!) and Jack hadn’t got out properly from the jealously stage, as we would (undoubtedly) have been giving Oliver the attention that he rightly deserves as a small child, but now we’re cutting down on Jack’s time to ‘service’ Oli. So, I can well see how jealousy sets in, and I probably would have been there myself when I was that age, as we (that had younger siblings) all were.

Nowadays, they’re getting on a bit better, and it’s not so hard to see why. Oli’' has pretty much grown out of any/all of the baby-related paraphernalia and his toys are such that Jack isn’t too old for, and actually wants to play with them too. The sort of thing I’m talking about, is the action figures and castle, with horses, catapults, dragons and all that. (To be honest, it’s really good and it’s easy to play along with them, as a parent!)

Other interests that Jack has, Oli is trying to copy and that helps bring the gap between them in a little. Jack will sit and draw or colour pictures in, or even make some monstrosity of a robot from about 20,000 cardboard boxes and about 17 rolls of sellotape to hold this ‘thing’ together. Whilst he’s doing all of this, Oliver obviously wants to copy and to join in, and so is learning to hold the pens/pencils/crayons/etc and so there’s common ground forming.

The age gap between Jack and Oliver is about the same between me and my older brother, but I guess (simply as I cannot remember but my blogging abilities back then were about as good/frequent as they are now!!) that at the time of being 3 years old that’s how it is and where the fun’s at, so I suppose I would have done the same.

In terms of … patterns … and interest and …. abilities, I can see a little of how Oliver will progress and grow, through seeing how Jack has. The whole point to this blog-thing was because I had zero experience of being around young children, to see what they do, how they learn, and all that. So, taking Jack how he is now, which is to say that he’s genuinely a very bright and intelligent young lad with lots of thoughts and ideas, and then taking Oliver, who is starting to show signs these traits, too… it’s quite rewarding/exciting/interesting/amazing all at once.

What I mean, is that we’ve ALWAYS spent a lot of time with Jack, whether it’s reading, talking to him and explaining things that he’s asked about (sometimes in a little too much detail!). From this invested time and effort, you don’t see day-to-day the differences made or the huge leaps forward in Jack’s growth and development. But when you see that Oliver is pretty much where Jack was three years ago, we know that all of the time that we have spent, and will continue to spend, with Oliver is so very worth it.

Just to expand on that a little, I can’t stress enough the difference it has made to Jack’s reading and writing because of the breadth of his speaking vocabulary, as words that he’s come across in reading and/or writing, he knows and doesn’t give them a second thought, and more importantly, we’re not bogged down each time we pick up a book and have to explain every other word in a sentence. But that’s not to say he’s a big-head and knows everything, but he knows that when we come across something new, he’ll ask what it is and we’ll explain to the point of being able to comprehend it to a certain degree.

I find the best time to talk to either Jack or Oliver is when we’re in the car alone together, going somewhere. We’re both strapped to the seat and not going anywhere without the other, and seeing the same things, to bring the same conversation. So, it’s easy to talk about buses and trucks and lorries and clouds and trees and so on.

Anyway, I think I’ve gone off-piste a little, but there’s some reality behind my idle ramblings, hopefully.

“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!

Give with one hand… and snatches back with the other!

This is in reference to my youngest lad, Oliver.

Delightful little chap, he is.

Funny, polite and quite imaginative, despite not being three years old yet.

Out of the blue (and yes, totally unprompted) he cuddled me and told me: “You’re the best, dad.”  (Not “you’re the best dad”, but more “Dad – you’re the best”.

And this was a lovely thing to hear from your child. Made me feel really appreciated, wanted, loved and blah blah blah.

Except, LITERALLY two minutes later, he wanted to get something that he knew he wasn’t allowed and when I said he couldn’t have it, he ripped me. Broke me in two, with the following:

“You’re not the best anymore”.

He gives. And then he snatches it all back again.

Jack’s reading

I dread to think how many books this little man has read already in his life.

He gets through his school reading books either the same night he gets it, or the following morning before school.

He will also get through at least one other book at night, that he reads to either one of us. 

We also read to him, as even though he’s not reading it, he loves the stories that we read to him. And he pays very close attention too, despite my trying to take the stories off at tangents when I think he’s not listening.

We’ve read 4 or 5 Roald Dahl books already, namely:

• Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
• The Witches
• Georges Marvellous Medicine
• Danny, the Champion of the World
• The Magic Finger
• and probably a few more now that I think about it.

If he wakes up early in the morning, and it’s very obvious that there’s no-one downstairs, after banging around in the toilet, he’ll go back to his room and turn the light on, to sit and read one of the many millions of books that he’s lucky enough to have.

At school, he’s currently on the ‘O’ band, which means that as he works alphabetically through the bands, they get progressively harder, using bigger word or more complicated sentences. I know he’s ahead of his school friends in reading, and I think he’s doing a great job, and full credit goes to his mum, although I think technically own Amazon as a result.

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.