Life begins...

Life Begins... moves on.

2010-02-28T16:00:00.003Z

Five years ago with a glint in my eye and seven months in hand before I would become a father, I started to write this blog.

Today I write my last post. Not because I am quitting, but because life has moved on and it's time this blog did the same. I have to say it is a wrench to leave this blog, much more than I was expecting.

I am acknowledging that the beginning is over. Oliver will never again be that 7lb 10oz bundle that was plopped by the midwife onto Hayley's belly, looking like a string of sausages at 6.19am one Autumn morning. Nor will he be the pre-toddler who used to love bread and refused to throw any to the ducks.. Nor even the toddler who was first on the swings on a Saturday morning because anything Daddy suggested was a great idea.

Likewise, Lucy will never again enter the world one August morning with a mop of black hair and startling blue eyes that dazzled her ecstatic parents. Nor smile at me for the first time in the half-light of dawn as I change her nappy. Nor sit contentedly on my front for as long as I had the strength to carry her in the Baby Bjorn carrier, just watching the world from under my nose, so quiet I could almost forget she was there..

But I will always be able to look back thanks to the more than a thousand posts in this blog. And for that I am eternally thankful. And if I may say so, I quietly give myself a small pat on the back too.

The new blog will give me the freedom to post the mundane and the trivial for the eyes of my family only while hopefully saving something more interesting for publication. (We'll see!) As I already mentioned, it also means I can start to limit how much the general public reads about my children as they grow up, deserving and demanding their own privacy.

But it also allows me to open up a few more posts to contacts across the world who have taken an interest in our story so far. Of course you can choose not to bother - you may be glad not to hear for the gazillionth time how Lucy melts my heart and Oliver lights up my world - but just in case, here's what I'm going to do.

If you register on the new site (hopefully being identifiable to me!) it will allow me to make more posts available to you should you so wish. In other words, you'll continue to see the sort of stuff on the new site that you see today on Life Begins. There's a "Register" link (under "Wordpress Waffle") in the sidebar of the new site which takes you to a registration page here.

So now, as I type, all posts but this one have been imported to their new home for continuity, and also all comments (bar the most recent as it couldn't cope with IntenseDebate).

I hesitate at the door, agonizing over this last goodbye. The first five years have been the most amazing I have experienced.. When Oliver was born, life went from good to glorious. Lucy's arrival, the icing on the cake. So I look to the future with eager anticipation and a continued sense of wonder. I hope to see you all again soon where the story will be continued.. This is, after all, only the end of the beginning. Of the opening chapter, where Life Begins...

If you would like to continue the story, vist the new site at http://tobeadad.co.uk/.

Thunderbirds are Go!

2010-02-24T20:15:00.001Z

I'm not sure when I first told Oliver about the joys of Thunderbirds. Thanks to the benefits of digital photography, I know he had this costume 16 months ago. I know he heard and liked the theme music around the same time. I also know he had never actually seen an episode... until last weekend.

I had been promising to get him the first series for several days and his excitement when I told him I'd finally got it was priceless. An excited, almost nervous, chuckle and huge smile. And so it was he finally saw tis classic opening sequence.

After this exciting start, the show settled into what was a rather slow pace for a 4 year old, particularly compared to modern offerings. The puppets look so dated now, but the concepts are still awesome in the true sense of the word. Ideas like the swimming pool retracting are still futuristic even 40 years on (well, to me anyway). The anticipation of what Thunderbird 2 will be carrying in each episode still holds a spell. And the villain was so scary to Oliver that he asked me to stay in the room while he was on screen!

Sometimes there's no fathoming what scares kids. I previously noted that I once found Lucy crying because she was scared by Jack Black's guest appearance on Yo Gabba Gabba. Admittedly, he did look kinda freaky dressed as DJ Lance Rocks.

In contrast, excerpts of Spiderman 3 featuring Toby Maguire strike the whole family as cartoon-like in their storyline and drama while never once leaving any of us feeling frightened.

And then there was the whole "Where the Wild Things Are" debacle. Oliver loves the book and despite the PG certificate the trailer made it look like rather uplifting and exciting. When we got to the cinema, we found it was a much more dark movie than suggested. One review basically described it as too old for kids and too young for adults. I described it as a kind of "'Lost' for 10 year olds". Anyway, Oliver got scared after about 15 minutes so we left and watched "Up" instead. An excellent move..

So should I be taking myself to task over letting my children watch bits of Spiderman 3 when the certificate says 12A, which is deemed OK for 12 years old and above but below that is up to the parents?

I recall watching endless World War 2 films as a kid. I recall playing at being soldiers and shooting each other. And I remember walking through a field not wanting to step on a single flower. So how much harm is being done and by what?

I don't have the answer. Only a feeling that ultimately it's my responsibility and that my parental instincts will be good enough to guide me most of the time. I know my children and I watch carefully how they react to what they watch. I'm always open to advice (Comments welcome!) and I do look for guidance. I've found the BBFC website for parents very useful on that score.

But right now I believe my gut. And my gut tells me to watch with them if in doubt about the content and how they will react.

So today Thunderbirds are definitely go. But there are going to be plenty of other movies out there that I'll be happy to leave on pause.

Good day at the office dear?

2010-02-19T14:20:00.001Z

It's fair to say I have written a few posts down the years about sleep and the lack of it.

This one is different.

This is the post that may end my posting about lack of sleep forever.

We have a friend who works in marketing for a worldwide sports brand. Consequently, from time time she works with some of the world's greatest football players.

Last month it was England striker Wayne Rooney, arguably the best player England has produced in years and who is in a rich vein of form for his club Manchester United.

A potted bio: A Premier League footballer from the age of 16, he shot to stardom when he became the youngest ever scorer of a Premier League goal.

He appears on the front and back pages of the tabloids and has a wife whose celebrity status (born of being his wife) means her books sometimes out-sell his. Married for several years, they recently had a baby boy. They are, in the UK at least, one of sport's golden couples.

So far, so what.

Here's where it got interesting for me. Our friend spoke to him less than 48 hours after he had scored all four goals in United's 4-0 defeat of Hull City. He told her that on the day of that match he was absolutely shattered. Why? Because he had been up in the night with their baby.

Up in the night? The night before a Premier League game?! I had assumed that some distant wing of Rooney Towers would have been lovingly prepared and set aside for this sporting superstar to make sure he was fully rested before the game.

It turns out, he has a life, much like the rest of us. He had been suffering the same deprivations as I had so often complained about and then went out and scored four goals in a game of football at the highest level.

One other thing woirth mentioning about Mr Rooney. By anyones estimation, a few years ago he was an aggressive, ill-tempered youth who could at best be described as a rough diamond. Our friend commented that on this latest meeting he was the most laid back, helpful and professional individual you could imagine. And it shines through on the pitch too. He is still ultra competitive, but things that would have made him explode in the past, now seem to wash over him.

Did fatherhood do that to him? I would love to know.

So the next time I feel tired at work after a semi-sleepless night spent shuttling to and from my offsprng, I shall think of Mr Rooney's 4-goal haul, do my best to forget my lethargy, and try to be grateful that the sort of goals I have to achieve don't require me to charge around for 90 minutes avoiding flying boots while under the scrutiny of 75000 cheering fans and the spotlight of the world media. Well, most days anyway.

P.S. Have a look at this video he shot for Nike. Fake? I suspect not.

Wayne Rooney's Accuracy For Nike - Watch today’s top amazing videos here

Nursery parent-teacher chat

2010-02-15T19:07:00.000Z

Last Monday morning Hayley rang me at 9.05 to remind me that we had a ten-minute appointment with Oliver's teacher at 9.10.
In the words of Hugh Grant, "Bugger".

Fortunately I hadn't left for work and was there in 5 minutes flat.

Here are the salient points of our ten minute chat.

Oliver will talk to anyone. Other kids, teachers, secretarial staff, whoever... he will talk to any of them without hesitation. That was great to hear.

Oliver loves books. He will get a book, sit down and read it, oblivious to the world around him, absorbed in its pages. She even showed us a picture of him sitting in the middle of a thoroughfare reading a huge book. The rest of the nursery just had to circumnavigate him.

She said that once he is interested in an activity he becomes totally absorbed. I asked whether this was also true of doing things like puzzles and writing that he is reluctant to do at home. She said he is not absorbed in activities he is asked to do but still does them. I also asked whether he acts out aggressive behaviour, as sometimes at home he becomes quite angry and animated (without ever becoming violent) when he can't get his own way (in stark contrast to the boisterous but sensitive and gentle little boy we usually see). She said no. At most he might pull a face. So it seems that behaviour is reserved for home, which in a way is reassuring as it suggests some sort of social awareness. Maybe. Anyway that seems to have got better recently (touch wood).

She also commented that he has made a very good friendship with another boy there who also happens to be the son of a colleague of mine. Currently they don't see each other much outside of nursery so we're going to try to put that right.

Finally I mentioned that Oliver still seems to have some hearing problems and asked whether she had noticed anything. She had. Sometimes he clearly hasn't heard what she is saying to him even though she is stiing next to him and he otherwise seemed to be paying attention. So that's something we will check out again with the doctors.

It was a very short visit, our first since he started last September, and I wish there could be more, perhaps one a term. But it was reassuring and worthwhile for what we learned.

Reading between the imaginary lines

2010-02-14T19:15:00.004Z

Books.

We want our pre-school kids to like them. We want our pre-school kids to enjoy them. We want our pre-school kids to like and enjoy them without taking an hour of bedtime to read three pages.

Oliver sometimes "reads" his chosen bedtime story to me. He combines a mixture of the words he recalls me reading with his own interpretation of the pictures. Despite this sometimes being employed as a tactic to delay the moment he has to go to bed, it is always a revealing little insight into how his mind works. The dialog often reflects some of that I hear when he is playing with action figures (where my definition of "action figure" includes anything he chooses: have you ever seen Peppa Pig take on Ben 10?).

Yesterday Hayley bought Oliver a Power Rangers notebook which came with a Power Rangers rubber eraser and pen. He sat down next to me on the sofa and said he was going to read it to me. As I started to mention that it had no words he ignored me and went straight to the first page, which was, like every other page in the notebook, blank.

No matter. He proceeded to tell me the story and to provide a picture he placed onto the page the rubber with the face of a Power Ranger on it. He continued to do this for several pages before we were interrupted by dinner being ready.

The power of kids' imaginations never ceases to amaze me and I do my best to keep in check the adult tendency to direct his thoughts towards any commonly perceived "right" way of interpreting the world. He's going to have years of doing things someone else's "right" way later in school life, so it's a joy to see him discover and describe the world with such untainted wonder.

Art was once described to me as something to challenge our normal way of seeing the world. Unconstrained by years of mental and social manipulation, our children's descriptions of the world around them are themselves works of art.

So my recommendation when buying books for pre-schoolers is not to worry too much about what they can take out of them, because they'll be putting a whole lot more into them as well.

How not to get kids into sport

2010-02-13T23:56:00.000Z

Here in Blighty we are in the midst of the good old four nations rugby tournament, where England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland compete for bragging rights in the game named after an English public school and whose origins are attributed to one of its pupils.

Oh OK, I admit it then, it's actually FIVE nations, since we late those Johnny-come-lately French in, despite the fact they tend to be rather good and beat us with typical French panache.

What's that you say? Are you kidding? Now we've let Italy in too?!

So, as I was saying, we are in the midst of the SIX nations rugby union tournament. And as Hayley and I get sucked into this level of the game (despite never once dragging our arses a mile down the road to support our local club), I thought it might be nice to get shirts for me and Oliver if not the whole family.

Obviously I didn't expect this to be a case of handing over a twenty pound note and leaving with a smile and some loose change, but a brief consultation with Google and some retail websites left me loose jawed and bewildered.

The price of the official England first team replica shirt is £88. Yes, eighty eight pounds. (That's currently about 138 US Dollars.) And I also found it sold for more than that!

There is another, presumably less authentic, though still official replica shirt for a mere £50 (about $79). Kids shirts aren't much cheaper and don't seem to go down to sizes that might fit my son.

Now, compare this to the giant money-grabbing machine that is Manchester United Football Club and you'll find that their shirts retail consistently below £40 but can be found much cheaper. They also do kids sizes.

I did go into town today to try to find these sacred cloths of Albion at a price that wouldn't have made Dick Turpin blush, but to no avail. I did find one shop selling stained rejects at £40 but decided that turning up at Twickers looking like I'd spilled curry down my front wouldn't make the right impression.

So why am I reflecting on all this?

Class struggle brother, that's why.

You see in this country football (soccer to the linguistically challenged) has always been the sport of the working classes, while rugby has been for the elite. In fact there is even a second code (rugby league) which working class towns in the north of England took to their hearts and which eventually became big business while rugby union struggled to break the shackles of amateurism.

And a struggle it was, not least because some in the game saw the introduction of money as "dirty" while others just didn't want the wrong sorts involved in their old boys club.

But eventually rugby union did become professional and now it is becoming as familiar a fixture in the Sky Sports schedules as rugby league.

So why is it that I can buy a Manchester United shirt to ~~indoctrinate~~ encourage my son to take an interest in football without breaking the bank, but need to take out a second mortgage to buy an England rugby union shirt for myself and can't even find one for my boy?!

The RFU need a kick up the arse. If they want to get boys like mine into rugby, boys from homes where there aren't two Mercedes on the drive with this year's plates and where rugby will have to be accessible to get a look-in alongside football, then they are going to have to try a bit harder with their marketing and their pricing.

But seeing £88 replica shirts makes me wonder whether they care.

Wordpressure

2010-02-11T21:20:00.002Z

I'll let you in on a secret: I'm planning my escape.

You see, I've loved my time over here on Blogger, but you know how it is. All the cool kids are blogging on Wordpress and I'm feeling all left out!

Actually it's not that at all.

The problem with this blog is that it is neither fish nor fowl. It is too public to be able to write everything I would like, yet most of the content is too personal and everyday to be of interest to most readers.

This blog was always intended to journal my time with my wife and son (and latterly my daughter), so it was never going to be as consistently interesting to your average Joe Public as those blogs written for writing's sake. If I were only to blog when I thought I had "a good idea for a post", then I would be neglecting my main job of capturing as much as possible for posterity.

And to be honest, I have fallen into that trap, just a little. There are so many tiny little moments I would like to capture but don't, either due to lack of time or the fact that it doesn't seem worth a post in its own right, so I save it for later... then forget it.

But there's a much bigger problem. My son is going to school this year. And I decided some time ago that starting primary school would be the point when I would start to limit what I published about him. He is no longer a baby. He is increasingly a little person with his own boundaries. I have to start to learn to respect his privacy.

I mean, what could be more embarrassing than your Dad cooing about you online when you're trying to be a cool ten year old. OK, I'm getting ahead of myself, but it's better to start early with this, given that Google chaching means going offline won't save him from my scribblings.

So I figured that moving to Wordpress would be my best chance of setting the privacy level such that I could churn out lots of private posts and less frequently write something public (and hopefully interesting!).

BUT...

...Wordpress is not half as easy and flexible as I had thought. I badly need a Wordpress plug-in that will allow me to make posts public only to selected groups of readers designated as Family, Friends, Members, Subscribers, etc.

My new home is running Wordpress 2.9.1 but none of the plugins I've found are guaranteed to run with that version and I'm feeling a bit too new to Wordpress to start blindly experimenting. But there's no point moving til I sort this out as I'd rather wreck an empty blog than a full one.

Bugger.

Anyway, I WILL be moving soon - I've paid for it so I'll darn well use it! - and when I do, rest assured that the few but valued regular readers and commentors will get an invite to be the founder "members" at the new blog.

In the meantime, if you've any advice on Wordpress backups or social privacy plugins, please speak after the beep.

BBC News - Unplanned pregnancy warning to older women over 35

2010-02-09T13:21:00.000Z

BBC News - Unplanned pregnancy warning to older women over 35

Holding out for a (Super) Hero

2010-02-05T21:15:00.005Z

Oliver loves super-heroes at the moment.
If he watches TV he asks for a super-hero show.
His games are often about saving people and involve his Power Ranger and Transformer figures (when he's not pretending to be Spiderman climbing the walls).
Every morning he asks to dress in a different super-hero shirt and mostly gets his way. (We prefer him to have clean shirt each day but a new Superman shirt last week made it to Day 4 before we finally drew the line!) Our Flickr account is peppered with photos of him as dressed as Superman, Batman, Spiderman...

Our heroes are people who inspire us. So you could say that the little man was a bit of hero himself this week. After his proud moment at football training the other Saturday, his enthusiasm inspired me to set a Fatherly example to him and start playing 5-a-side football again.

For about 15 years spanning much of my late twenties and thirties, I used to play 5-a-side football and outdoor football on a regular basis. I was no Pele, but I enjoyed it immensely and it helped keep me fit. But like so many things from the days before having kids, it gradually got squeezed off the agenda in the last few years.

I last played about four years ago.

So last night I put that right and turned out for a friendly game with some familiar old faces and a few younger new ones at a local sports hall. I had all the style of Bambi on ice and the stamina of fattened pig. It was heaps of fun!

But my oh my oh MY, am I aching today!

And it's always worse after two nights, so I am envisaging me as a feeble tottering wreck tomorrow morning. The kids may yet have to get ME dressed at this rate.

But it's a small price to pay, because I came home from my game to find Oliver thrilled to see his Daddy in football gear, immediately asking me about the game and grabbing a ball for us to practice in the living room. I don't need more reward than that. And it might just get me through next week's repeat performance of lung-busting heroics.

Gender disappointment

2010-02-04T22:46:00.002Z

Tonight I watched a documentary on Channel 4 about women who suffer from "gender disappointment". They have sons but desperately want a daughter. It drew its title from one of the featured cases: "8 Boys and Wanting a Girl".

I was struck by the inequity of the rich woman who could afford the IVF and egg screening treatments and was thrilled by her twin daughters, contrasted alongside a woman from a more typical household who would never be able to afford such treatments. Her story culminated in an ultrasound scan of her fifth child which we saw was to be a fifth son. It was painful to see her distress, for many reasons.

I also had sympathy for the husbands of these women, all of whom complained of the obsessive nature of their wives' longing for a daughter and who found it hard to sympathize with the fact it made them depressed when they had several healthy children, albeit of one gender.

I did find myself asking more than once "How must those boys feel?"

I can only fall into a sweeping generalization and say it's probably different for women (a sentiment echoed in the programme by at least one mother). I know that the decision not to try for a third child was a harder one for Hayley than for me.

And I find it hard to judge these people because I have a son and a daughter. I had expected our first child to be a girl. When he was born and I saw we had a boy I was instantly proud and excited in a way I had never anticpated and there is not a day that goes by when I don't look at my son and re-expereince a little of the joy of those first moments of his life.

And although I was prepared for our second child being either a sister or a brother for Oliver, I could never have been happier than when I saw she was a girl. I just cried. And today, as she grows up, I find myself more and more in awe of her wonderful character. Yes I know she might make up for it in her teen years, but right now she is a daddy-doting bundle of sweetness for whom I feel more grateful every day.

So gender disappointment is something I have been lucky not to experience and I do feel sympathy for the families in its grip. I only hope that for some of them, something will release from their sadness. I do believe change can happen in an instant and can come from within. I hope that instant comes along for them, because to be blessed with such beautiful families and spend your life sad would be a tragedy.

Things to do with the Kids - Ball Pits!

2010-01-27T12:38:00.001Z

During the rather wet, cold dark days of winter there is one place that is a must, at least once in a while, for kids to let off steam and go wild: an indoor playground. Or as we fondly refer to them "ball pits", as most of them have one.

There are plenty of pubs that have them these days and even one of our local McDonalds has one, but I have focussed on the purely unlicensed premises which have the children's play and entertainment as their main focus as I bring you my personal top 5 of our local centres!

(Please start singing the "pick of the pops" theme and doing your best Alan Freeman voiceover here...)

At number 5...

Heroes Soft Play Area at Cheadle Swimming Pool. A surprise entry this one. OK, it only has a tiny play area (and in fact - shock, horror - I don't think it even has a ball pit!) - but it is worth a mention as it potentially gives a sibling something to do while their brother or sister is swimming. And there is a little coffee area right next to it. There is also a tiny play area for babies/toddlers but to be honest there is next to nothing in it to play with. Hmmmm... moving on...

At number 4...

Rumble in the Jungle - A bit of a hidden gem, but not really big enough for over the age of 3-4 tops. Its modest size means the kids are never far away. And the food is good. The kids have always enjoyed Rumble in the Jungle more than I expect given its size. As well as the main play area it also has a Car Zone with pushalongs and cars (obviously). Also a Baby Zone.

At number 3...

Funizuz - With two big rooms there is plenty of space and variety for kids to run wild. There is a very big main area and a good smaller area for under 4s. Not only that but also areas for toddlers and babies. The cafe is bright and airy and a couple of sectioned off areas are used for parties. But the big draw at Funizuz has to be the big slide. I defy you not to have a go on it... several times!

At number 2...

Run of the Mill - I think Run of the Mill has the largest continuous run of connected soft play equipment of all the local centres. There's no doubt the kids love it. It does good parties: Oliver had his 3rd birthday there and Lucy her 2nd. But it does have one big draw back for me: the seating is such that it is very easy to lose track of your child in the play area. Much of the time they are out of sight and when it is busy it is bedlam. (Of course there's nothing to stop you getting in there with them.)

And at number 1...

Anchors Away - This is pretty much unchanged in its layout from when it was "Whalearound". And that's a very good thing, because the kids are pretty much always visible in all the play areas wherever you are sitting. The food is good with some fruit always available and they do good parties. Oliver had his 4th birthday party there. It's definitely our most visited play-centre, mostly because of the layout and equipment (though it also helps that childminders get a slight discount during the week.) And the new owners have also given it a new injection of life.

So there's my top 5. Maybe I'll do something similar for the local parks when some summer sunshine finally arrives... I hope!

Kids activities - football training

2010-01-23T20:21:00.003Z

For the last couple of weeks Oliver has been going to football training for 3-5 year olds. (That's soccer by the way.) It's a great bit of exercise for him and I get to take part with him too.

It is predictably chaotic, given that there are now about 20 kids (all boys interestingly) charging around with footballs in a sports hall. But the half hour session is a nice mixture of fun games that get the kids to warm up and then practice their football skills before finishing with a game. There is also some etiquette, shaking hands with the opposition at the end of games and taking turns in "training". (So far the odd competitive Dad has been the low performer in this area!)

The "game" at the end is in fact never more than two-versus-two and many of the boys, including Oliver, either haven't really grasped or just aren't bothered with the concept of goals, goalposts or pretty much anything other than chasing the ball and kicking it. And who can blame them! That is after all the purest pleasure to be had in the game.

This week Oliver particularly enjoyed trapping the ball by putting his foot on top of it. His other favourite activity was placing the ball and taking an enormous run-up to kick it. (Not a prescribed exercise, just his favourite thing to do in the warm-up.) In my boyhood I seem to recall Peter Lorimer, no 7 for the then mighty Leeds United, had the hardest shot in football. Oliver took about the same amount of run-up.

At the end of every week, the leader picks out two boys as Player of the Week and awards them a little trophy (on loan to the winner for the week). This week, for his endeavours and most of all for "always playing with a smile on his face", one of the winners was Oliver. (I am absolutely certain it had nothing to do with persuading me to cough up the twenty-odd quid for the rest of the sessions. Heaven forbid.)

The whole experience is still a little daunting to Oliver who takes part enthusiastically but likes the fact I am close at hand. So I was delighted and proud to see him standing up and walking forward with a smile to accept his trophy and hold it high to receive everyone's cheers. I even got him to recreate it for posterity when we got home.

BBC News - Fathers to be offered more help

2010-01-21T13:17:00.000Z

BBC News - Fathers to be offered more help

Things to do with the kids: Manchester Museum

2010-01-19T19:00:00.000Z

Manchester Museum would probably be worth a visit anyway, but what makes it particularly attractive when you have young kids is the area on the top floor, apparently officially known as the "Play + Learn" area. (I'm so fond of this little hidey hole that part of me doesn't want to blog it, but hopefully if it is well used it might go on being funded or even expanded.)

It has low tables and chairs just right for the likes of Lucy to sit and draw and colour in the paper and pictures provided.

The tables also have animal reliefs on their surface so you can create rubbings. And there are exhibits in plastic cases that the staff will unlock for the kids to touch.

There are also sofas with boxes of children's books alongside. Lucy and I read several on our last trip. The previous time we visited she was only 9 weeks old and can be seen here (in this fuzzy photo) being fed her milk by Hayley.

Oliver had just turned two and enjoyed playing with the dinosaurs provided.

Adjacent the drawing tables is a Picnic area with tables for you to eat your own food.

And of course all of this is free!

I can definitely recommend this little hidden gem. It takes a little finding as the museum is split across two buildings with the main entrance in one and a walkway across to the one with this area, but it's worth searching out.

Just remember to save me one of the sofas for reading to my little girl please.

Things to do with the kids: Museum of Science and Industry

2010-01-18T21:10:00.001Z

Manchester has a great industrial heritage and a place in history as the one of the cradles of of the industrial revolution. So it is fitting that it is home to the Museum of Science and Industry.

Our trip there (one rainy day last November) only took in perhaps half of what there is to see. Here's what we managed.

The Air hall - old planes, motor bikes, helicopters, a Lancaster bomber and a state of the art Euro fighter simulator. (Oliver not quite tall enough yet, but next time...)

The 1830 wharehouse - with Victorian Sewer complete with smells.

The Power Hall - trains, generators, and a rather good demonstration of hydro-electric power generation. A hand-pump fills a tank with water. When it is sufficiently full, the water is released by a flushing mechanism allowing it to fall onto the water-wheel which spins turning a dynamo which lights some LED lights.

Later, snuggled up with Oliver as he was falling asleep, he asked about it and I found myself explaining electricity generation to him. Pump water, flush water, wheel turns, makes electricity (skimming over the tricky bit about coils in magnetic fields) and lights the light. To my amazement Oliver then asked me how it makes electricity when it turns the wheel. Avoiding repetition of the first year of my Electrical Engineering degree to a four year old, I told him it turns magnets like we have on the fridge and doing that makes electricity. A slightly mysterious and summary explanation. He seemed to accept it and hopefully it's been enough to spark his curiosity later.

There was also a large water wheel which held Lucy entranced. She of course also pumped the mini hydro-electric plant but was persuaded to let Daddy help (or we might still have been there now).

The kids also got to make paper rockets which were fired high into the air by compressed air.

It was a gret way to spend a couple of hours with some fantastic exhibits. I'm sure we'll be going back there again sometime and not just because it was all free.

Ten Things

2010-01-17T22:04:00.003Z

I've been tagged by Jessi over at Notes From A Scattered Mind to post ten things that make me happy. The temptation is great, especially as this is a blog about family life, to post ten things that entirely relate to my family. So I'll list ten things that entirely exclude my family... then list a separate ten just for them.

1. Indian food.
2. Riding my bike.
3. Writing songs.
4. The YouTube posts of Julia Nunes.
5. A pint of real ale.
6. A new book.
7. Chris Moyles and his crew on Radio 1 in the morning.
8. The Archers (or pretty much anything on BBC Radio 4).
9. Hearing a wonderful song for the first time (or the first time in ages).
10. Snow and riding across it (preferably by board or cross-country skis).

Ten for my family:
1. Hayley's chuckle.
2. Making Oliver laugh so much that we are both silently doubled up with laughter trying to catch our breath.
3. The feeling of Lucy's arms around my neck and her head upon my shoulder.
4. Oliver's thoughtfulness.
5. Lucy's cheekiness. (Well, mostly!)
6. A date with my wife (without the kids in tow).
7. Lucy's enthusiasm for helping.
8. Oliver's enthusiasm for super-heroes.
9. Hayley's enthusiasm at the prospect of a roast dinner.
10. Coming home to all three of them at the end of each day.

Yes, I know it's terribly soppy, but there it is. Plenty to be happy about I'd say.

It's annual delurker day!

2010-01-14T17:30:00.003Z

Please leave a comment or I will leave the blogosphere forever.

And this time I mean it.

No, really.

BBC News - Having a big bum, hips and thighs 'is healthy'

2010-01-13T12:47:00.001Z

BBC News - Having a big bum, hips and thighs 'is healthy'

Worst luck, I put weight on my stomach.

Whereas my lovely, curvaceous wife...

BBC News - Healthy lunchboxes a rarity, study says

2010-01-12T12:30:00.000Z

BBC News - Healthy lunchboxes a rarity, study says

It seems that the low figure of 1 in 100 is perhaps as much a reflection of the high standards of school dinners these days.

School dinners are not cheap so many parents have little choice but to provide packed lunches, some reporting on this mroning's Radio Five Live phone-in that their kids dismantle the sandwiches and eat only the elements they like.

Oliver's nursery don't do lunches so he ahs to have a packed lunch. The amount of food returning uneaten is encouraging most of the time. (Hopefully he's not giving it to someone else or hiding it in the sand-pit.)

Chilled

2010-01-07T22:46:00.004Z

When I left work tonight at 6.45pm the temperature was -10C (+14F). It is like I have moved to a different country!

On leaving the house this morning, the low sunlight, the snow, muted sound and biting cold on my face reminded me only of getting up early in the Alps to be the first on the slopes. Riding through the park, the small hill looked like a well used piste and I found myself thinking "it could do with some fresh snow" (which is as applicable on the bike as on the snowboard it transpires).

On the down side, such low temperatures mean the grit applied to the roads doesn't work so well. Or possibly at all. Nonetheless I stayed upright on my bike all the way home this evening, not least because I avoided roads and took snowy paths wherever possible.

Tonight is threatening to be the coldest night of the winter so far. While I still love the beauty of the scenery at a time when taking down Christmas decorations usually leaves the world looking a much more drab place, I do feel for those who aren't loving it so much: the elderly, the frail, the homeless. And children, many of whom won't have the luxury of leaving heating on overnight as the double whammy of recession and high fuel prices hit parents' pockets.

Even Lucy complained of the cold today when she had to walk a few yards from the car, despite being very well wrapped up.

I'm still going to enjoy the cold weather as best I can, but perhaps I've been a bit selfishly carried away about this winter business up to now.

Properly Cold

2010-01-07T08:25:00.000Z

As we got up this morning with the sun still below the horizon, the national news was reporting that just down the road from here in Woodford (where we got married in the summer sunshine last summer) the temperature was -17.6C (that's 0 degrees Fahrenheit).

I'm off to work now, having been to the shop for Hayley who has a house full of kids and won't be venturing out given the Met Office warning of ice. (I saw plenty just walking to the shop.)

I'll be on my bike... but we'll see how far I get!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

2010-01-05T12:26:00.005Z

We are experiencing a cold snap here in the north of England at present. We have had Siberian winds and snow since before Christmas with only a brief thaw between Christmas and New Year. It snowed again last night. This time a splendid 6 inches or more!

As you might gather I rather like this weather. I detest the drab and awful drizzle and temperatures of a few degrees above zero that we usually get. This is much better.

Of course the country has ground to a halt as we are perennially and woefully under-prepared. We are even running out of grit for the roads! Not that it has stopped me. Oh no, I cycled to work today.

The side roads and tracks were fantastic as I crunched through the fresh snow. Only the main roads were a touch tricky as cars wanted the clear tarmac tracks and I ended up a few times crossing into packed bumpy snow at the edges at an oblique angle which can be hairy.

But all in all I loved it and arrived at work with a smile on my face, much to the amazement of many. (Actually the place was half empty.) The section of my commute that follows the river was particularly beautiful.

Meanwhile, Hayley and the kids built a fantastic snowman outside our house. Isn't she a beauty!

And the weather forecasters say it is going to last another week. Woohoo!!!!

All is quiet on...

2010-01-04T23:12:00.003Z

New Year's Day was a beautiful, crisp, clear, cold sunny day around these parts. We spent some of it happily playing in the park and some of cosily snuggled up indoors watching the original Superman movie.

What a contrast to the night before.

We went to bed early (yes, on New Year's Eve) and were briefly woken by fireworks at midnight. Then at around 1.30am I heard Lucy coughing and crying out a little. I went in to settle her. To my alarm, I found her with a very rattly chest and wheezing like I have never heard her before. I got her out of her cot and settled her upright on my shoulder but I didn't like the sound of her.

I took her in to Hayley and we started to try to look at her breathing to see whether it was from the stomach, indicating that she was struggling. While doing this she wheezed even more loudly and then cried out. I was now very worried that this was a first asthma attack. I've known asthmatics - including Hayley - and this sounded as bad as anything I had ever witnessed.

We called 999. (That's the UK equivalent of 911.)

I held Lucy on my shoulder and she stopped crying a little after a while. We were put on hold waiting for an operator for what seemed an age but was probably no more than a couple of minutes. Meanwhile we calmed Lucy whose breathing seemed better and found Oliver's ventolin inhaler.

At this point we gave up waiting on 999 and hung up. We tried to see whether she would have the inhaler. I showed her what to do, using Oliver's little mask, and asked her to do it. She said no. Not wanting to distress her we were about to ring the out of hours doctor when 999 rang back. We explained that the situation seemed to be more under control and they said don't hesitate to call back if necessary.

We quickly got through to the out of hours doctors service and they told us to bring her down. I de-iced the frozen car and Hayley took her down there. All the time she was improving and by the time the doctor saw her she was breathing well and the doctor confirmed her chest sounded OK. Her diagnosis was that her heavy cold had caused her to breathe in mucus.

Since then she has improved daily, sleeping better each night, though she did have a couple of nights in our bed with Hayley at first. So everything is back to normal now, but the memory of those few moments when I told Hayley to call 999 will almost certainly stay with me forever. I don't want to be melodramatic, but I don't think I have ever called 999 and I did so on New Year's Eve because I truly feared the possibility of the worst. Thank God my fears were unfounded, but it does remind me how lucky we are and that others have not been so lucky.

Oliver's first pantomime

2010-01-04T23:02:00.000Z

We took Oliver to his first pantomime ("oh no you didn't"!) just before I had to return to work after the Christmas break. We saw Aladdin at the Opera House in Manchester.

We asked him who he wanted to take and he chose a girl from his nursery. It was packed when we arrived but we managed to get upstairs to our sets and also to buy light sabres for the kids. (Light sabres? For Aladdin?)

After a few minutes it got under way. Despite his friend deciding she wanted to go to the loo after 20 minutes and then that she wanted to go home, we all eventually got into the swing of it and enjoyed it. The obvious old jokes were there ("He's behind you!") and also plenty of adult jokes that went over the kids' heads. In fact if anything there was a bit too much of that.

One character was clearly played by a comedian and he had a spot towards the end interviewing three kids and answering for them in silly voices. Oliver said he liked that the best.

But the best moment for me was a few minutes into the show when a simple facade backdrop was lifted to reveal a much more impressive set behind. "Wooooowwwww!, gasped Oliver, "I wasn't expecting that big...." he found himself lost for words. Priceless.

Of course we had ice cream in the interval and a few other snacks too. All in all, a "must do" experience for kids of all ages.

The Firing Line

2009-12-29T12:52:00.002Z

As a father, as a human being, I urge you if you have 25 minutes to spare to watch this BBC TV programme which, while featuring the bravest of cameramen working today, also demonstrates the suffering of children around the world. (It is also on the BBC News Channel at 14.30 GMT tomorrow.)

If you don't have 25 minutes, skip the first 10 minutes. You may then want to visit The Burma Campaign.

If you really only have 5 minutes, skip to 19 minutes and see what desperation and heart-break really means for a man in Afghanistan having to sell his 8 year old son. "I sold a piece of my heart to stop my four other children from dying of hunger."

The final story, while harrowing, at least has had some positive outcomes. You can visit the Stepping Stones website to find out more.

My own problems, as consuming as they can be, look small in comparison.

Christmas 2009

2009-12-28T17:34:00.005Z

Christmas Eve
I've been trying to engage Oliver in conversation about Christmas as much as possible, as this year he is so much more aware of it. But Oliver is such an excitable boy sometimes, it's hard to really get a conversation where you look into his eyes and see the excitement that Father Christmas is coming. So I made a point over the final week of talking up the big day, counting down the number of sleeps and generally enjoying the thrill of seeing my little boy genuinely excited about Father Christmas's impending arrival. This video was filmed on Christmas Eve before they went to bed. You can see the carrot for Rudolph and Mince Pie for Santa on the table. They both seem suitably excited, though Lucy gives some unexpected views and then wants to be the cameraman.

Christmas Day
We were up until about 1.30am on Christmas morning as we had trouble with one of Lucy's planned presents, a rather lovely toy kitchen. It turned out to have half the screws and bolts missing. After two hours we had to admit defeat, taking comfort in the fact that her "new dolly" was by far her most wanted gift.

At 7am both kids rose. I tried to persuade them to come into our bed for a cuddle, but they were understandably impatient to go downstairs and see whether Father Christmas had visited.

We had set out a drum kit for Oliver and a keyboard for Lucy so these were the first presents tried out. After that there was a stream of wrapping paper flying past our eyes as they eagerly tackled all there was to be unwrapped. After the initial chaos had passed and we had eaten some breakfast, we tried to get ready to leave. This was not helped by Lucy being prematurely over-tired and wanting me to constantly pick her up, resulting in endless screaming when I couldn't oblige. But eventually we did get under way in the car and she instantly fell asleep.

This year we did something different on Christmas Day: we dined out with nine other family members, the idea being to save everyone the pain of cooking for a large number of people. It turns out that the pain of cooking is arguably less than that of getting from our house to the restaurant on time whilst making sure we are fully packed for the following couple of days away at my Mum's place.

Next year everyone is invited to our place again!

The meal was a bit chaotic - they had lost our order and we also had to go chasing Lucy who kept wanting to go and closely inspect the real fire that had no guard - but otherwise was rather enjoyable.

Afterwards we decamped to my Mum's place where presents were opened and Oliver finally got hold of his much requested Go Diego Go back-pack. In fact he got three different Go Diego Go back-packs because my Mum wasn't sure which was the right one! Thankfully, one was the one he desired and he was delighted. (He seemed pretty pleased with the others too, to be fair.)

Lucy had already got her "new dolly" at our house, having asked for it consistently for weeks. She was predictably thrilled with it.

We had Boxing Day at my Mum's house - much of which I spent suffering a head cold - before returning home on the 27th. On our return, after a poor night's sleep for both Hayley and I, all four of us ended up curling up in the sofa-bed in the spare room to watch a movie.

It's been a great Christmas but it's nice to be back in our own space too.

So what now? Well we have a few days off before returning to work in the New Year and the first of those days has been spent in what I have started to appreciate is another Christmas tradition if you have kids: going to shops to exchange gifted clothes for something that fits!

"We'll have a little party" she said

2009-12-23T20:08:00.006Z

We had a Christmas party today. Hayley organised it and invited some of our friends. She hired the church hall that she uses for her playgroup, took along her new disco equipment and told everyone to bring some food and drink. What a great way to celebrate the end of the working year and the arrival of Christmas.

One small thing I should mention: she invited about 40 families, most of whom turned up.

And what a party it was. She had dancing competitions for the kids (and parents), soft toys out for the younger toddlers and babies, had a feast of food thanks to everyones offerings and generally made the whole afternoon go with a swing. Oh and she made some rather nice mulled wine that seemed popular.

Several people expressed amazement and gratitude at her organising such a big party for everyone. Several people also thanked me, but I have to admit that apart from sorting out some of the music and hauling things to and from cars it was all Hayley's work.

Just to give a feel of what it was like, here's a little video when the kids were doing the Cha Cha Slide.

Given it's popularity, next year we may have to keep its location "hush hush" and hire door staff. Alternatively, does anyone know whether the O2 Arena is booked for next Christmas yet?

Diagnosis - dodgy tummy

2009-12-22T13:05:00.004Z

(Those of a delicate disposition, look away now.)

The high temperatures of my wife and children have now been replaced by a dodgy tummies and frequent trips to the loo. Or in Lucy's case frequent nappy changes.

I remain as fit as a fiddle. Knackered, but as fit as a fiddle.

I did learn in the course of conversation on this subject yesterday eveving that my son seems to share my wife's love of bottom humour. Any joke involving a bottom usually makes Hayley laugh. So when I told Oliver last night "I'm the only one of us who doesn't have a squirty bottom" he roared with laughter.

Not my usual line in dry wit, but worth the lowering of standards: I just love making him laugh.

The only way is up

2009-12-22T00:08:00.002Z

"What is this dark and forbidding place", I hear you ask. That, my friends, is part of my commute home, along the River Mersey. And though this is a terrible picture it does illustrate quite clearly the snowy weather we are experiencing this week.

I post it simply because I wanted to record that despite the chill weather I cycled to work this week, including on the shortest day of the year.

This is less to boast to the world and more to remind myself (should I read this in the summer months) that not only is it achievable but in fact is rather enjoyable. The frozen ground means there is no mud (so I took my "summer" route) and the sound of snow under tyres is really rather satisfying. It's too cold to get very sweaty and the morning sunshine lifts the spirits. The evening darkness merely adds to the atmosphere.

And from here on in the days get progressively longer as we edge back toward summertime. The only way is up (and I wasn't even feeling down).

Living by numbers

2009-12-20T21:43:00.002Z

One final post for today: as I go to bed I can describe my family by their body temperature (in Fahrenheit today).

Oliver: 99.7 - complaining of a sore cheek which has been red much of today
Lucy: 99.6 - restless in her cot
Hayley: 99.7 - complaining of feeling hot (which is not like her at all).
Me: 98.8 - somewhat clapped out but otherwise OK.

So if the blog goes quiet again you'll know I'm nursing my brood back to health. And quite possibly the mother hen too.

Little things mean a lot

2009-12-20T21:23:00.002Z

Yesterday Hayley bought two CDs, each with songs and a message from Father Christmas that was personalised, so he was speaking to Oliver or Lucy, using their names and singing to them. In the car this morning as we waited for the ice and snow to melt from the windows, I put on Lucy's CD. Well, her face lit up with the most beautiful beaming smile tinged with the tiniest hint of bashfulness at this personalised message. It melted my heart and has made me smile every time I remember it.

She's been quite Daddy's girl this afternoon. As soon as she woke after I arrived homw with Oliver, she came and lay on the sofa with her head on my lap. Later, upstairs, she asked to watch "I Can Cook" on the BBC iPlayer. I sat her on my knee as I sat in the big office chair. She then wriggled herself until she was lying with her side on my chest and her head tucked onto my shoulder while her legs lay across my lap. It was quite the cuddliest 15 minutes I've spent with her in a while and a perfect antidote to the snowy afternoon I could see outside the window.

Oliver may spend much of his time now charging around being a super-hero, but make no mistake he still sometimes just says to me out of the blue "I want a hug Daddy" and throws his arms around me. Other times he will run and jump into my arms. It's hard to convey his personality sometimes but he is basically a sensitive, caring and loving little guy. Today after his swimming lesson his instructor gave him four chocolates. In the changing room he said "I know! I can have one, you can have one, Lucy can have one and Mummy can have one." (He also wanted to give Grandad one but we'll skip over this mathematical mishap. You can't fault his generosity.)

Hayley has commented that Oliver is very affectionate towards her recently, which is nice because she's often felt he's something of a Daddy's boy. The truth is he's pretty nice to everyone and I love that about him.

Happy helpers

2009-12-20T20:53:00.002Z

If there's one skill most parents would like to master it's that of getting kids to help with the tasks that must be done in a way that they see as fun. I can't claim to be an expert in this field, but I am fortunate that Lucy loves to help with any sort of food related task.

So a few weeks ago we enlisted both kids in helping to make pizzas for dinner.

It wasn't exactly Jamie's kitchen. There were pre-made pizza bases and Hayley and I chopped and grated the toppings before the kids joined in. Nonetheless it was fun for all as layers of butter then tomato puree were applied, soon followed by vegetable and meat toppings and heaps of cheese.All our preferences and dietary requirements were catered for by having half a pizza each to eat whilst helping everyone else with preparation of theirs.

The end result was pretty satisfying if only because we all knew we had made it and everyone ate a decent serving.

On Friday Hayley again enlisted the help of the children, this time to decorate our Christmas tree. (It should have been done last weekend but there was a saga involving a missing tree stand that I won't bore you with.)

It has to be said that crafts and decorations are less Oliver's scene, so after providing some initial help he left the girls to complete the administering of tinsel, lights and baubles. Lucy took to the task with enthusiasm and the end result was a masterpiece. I came home from my works Christmas lunch (and subsequent afternoon drinks) to find an idyllic Christmas scene.

This evening again Lucy was first to my aid as I went downstairs to make dinner. A simple affair of scrambled egg on toast meant that she could happily pour in ingredients, whisk away eggs and butter toast. I hadn't really planned for the moment I went out of the room and came back to find she'd started breaking the eggs into the bowl without me, without bothering to remove the shells from the resulting mixture. Nonetheless it made a simple and satisfying little task all the more fun to have my happy helper.

We interrupt this programme...

2009-12-19T19:00:00.003Z

A friend of mine who I hadn't seen for a while dropped me an email the other day. "You've not been blogging. That's not like you. Everything OK?"

It's true that when I don't write this blog it's usually because life is a bit out of kilter. Sometimes work is demanding. Sometimes home is demanding. Sometimes both are demanding.... at which point the blog gets a bit sparse. There's no great catastrophe here. Just a combination of hectic work and home schedules, minor illnesses and general fatigue with the odd leaky roof and dodgy gutter thrown in for good measure.

So I will try to catch up a little, because the sad thing is that there are so many little snippets I fail to record. Often, as Hayley and I are falling asleep she will say "Oh, the little lady today..." or "Oh you have to blog what Oliver did today...". But by the following evening it has slipped our minds and is lost to posterity.

So here are a few rather random bits and bobs.

The kids have now been to see Father Christmas about 4 or 5 times. Oliver has consistently asked for a Go Diego Go backpack, which is odd as he hardly watches it, but also sometimes has mentioned other things. Lucy on the other hand has given the same answer to every Father CHristmas who has asked what she desires: "a new dolly". And God bless her she will have it. She adores her dolls. She has three dolls, all of which she calls "Mama" because one of them said "Mama" if you squeezed its hand. She pushes them round in their buggies, puts blankets on them, feeds them.... she is a little doll herself.

I'm taking Oliver to see the new film of "Where The Wild Things Are" next week. It's one of his favourite books. Well, actually it's one of MY favourite books but he likes it too. I hesitated over taking him as it's rated PG. But to be honest he has watched sections of Spiderman 3 recently and enjoyed them. I'm not sure what rating that has, but I'm betting it's probably above PG! In fact even Lucy has sen some. She now asks for "the bit with the lady falling" which is quite a scary scene involving a woman falling from a high building to be caught by Spiderman just in time. Maybe all this makes me a bad parent, but they don't find the same things scary as we do. The other day Lucy started really crying because she was scared of Jack Black when he was dressed as DJ Lance Rocks on Yo Gabba Gabba. I can't put that episode on any more as she is genuinely terrified of him.

Lucy is still the best eater in our house. Not only does she usually eat her own meal but will often take an interest in anything Hayley and I might be eating if we dine after the kids for some reason. On Thursday evening I got home just after they had finisheda pasta dinner. Hayley had made a bowl for me so I sat down to eat. Lucycame over and asked to sit on my knee. She then proceeded to eat as much of my pasta as I would allow her. Every mouthfull I ate was watched by her, like a big puppy longing for a morcel. Often in the morning when she has finished her own toast she will wander into the kitchen after a few minutes and, finding Hayley eating a ppiece of toadt, will say "Have a bit of you toast Mummy?". In fact "...a bit of your [whatever food we're eating]" has become one of her stock phrses recently.

Oliver is very into super-heroes at the moment. He likes to dress as Superman or Batman or Spiderman. He has also developed a liking for Toy Story after I acquired a Woody and a Buzz Lightyear for the grand total of 20 pence at a Christmas Fair and I showed him the movie. Sometimes I wonder how much he is following the plot of things he sees on TV, but somewhat to my surprise he explained to me that Buzz Lightyear is a toy but he wishes he was the real Buzz Lightyear.

That's all I've time to record tonight. I really will try to blog more again as I hate missing the little details that we take for granted now but will become treasured memories in future. Even little things like the way Lucy brings me toys or pretend cups of tea saying "Here you go Daddy". Or how Oliver likes to snuggle his face as close to me as possible if he gets into bed with me in the morning or if I lie with him before he goes to sleep at night.

Looking at the number of posts I think this year will be my lowest count since starting out. I might not even break twi hundred. And that does make me sad as unlike most things in life, for me it is quantity more than quality that count in this blog. I am not a would-be newspapr writer or novelist. I am journalling my family life for posterity and to do that well I believe it is more important to capture as much information as possible than to write in a refined or humorous way, because only history will decide what in fact were the most important facts recorded. I suspect the small details and the background will often be the most interesting aspects when looking back at today.

Oliver's Christmas Concert

2009-12-16T18:44:00.003Z

Oliver took part in his nursery's Christmas concert today.

If he doesn't look overly excited in the video below I can think of a couple of reasons. Firstly, like last year at his previous nursery, he had a rotten night's sleep last night. Secondly, this was the third performance (at least!) they had all given. He has been cheerfully performing some of the songs for us (and others) at home for the last couple of weeks and we had received reports of his enthusiastic participation at one of the previous performances. So we were looking forward to our animated son singing with voice bellowing up to the rafters. But on this occasion it was not to be. Don't get me wrong, we still loved it. And he clearly enjoyed it too, despite the yawns!

Meanwhile, Lucy and her partner in crime (Hayley's Childminding child) were intent on playing with all the sandpits and water-play areas available in the area behind our seats. A refusal of any kind brought screams, which was not exactly ideal, so they pretty much got to do as they pleased while Hayley and I took turns to go and watch over them, standing at the back of the seats to follow the concert.

When the children first walked in down the aisle between the seats, Oliver saw me next to the aisle, shouted "Daddy!" with a big smile and gave me a kiss as he passed, which was lovely. He then got a but downhearted (or "sad" as he explained later) at not being able to talk to me while the concert was going on, ending up sitting on the knee of one of his teachers. But after a couple of minutes he sat down on the floor again, though looking a little dejected as this grainy image just about conveys.

But when it came his turn to sing in a group, though clearly a bit tired he did at least make a bit of an effort.

Afterwards there were cups of tea and mince pies for the parents while the kids had snack-time, then the big event was over for another year.

Nuclear family is broken warns parents' group - Telegraph

2009-11-30T13:22:00.001Z

I work. Hayley stays home and looks after the kids (whilst also working admittedly). It seems that tis traditional arranngment is ever dwindling and so we, the nuclear family, are a dying breed.

ALthough I would love to be able to have more time with my children, I take comfort from the fact that Hayley is with them at this early age. I do despair of our society where making everyone "productive", in other words working and paying taxes, means that women are all but forced back out to work and raising children is seen and paid as menial labour. As I heard Jenny Murray put it today "feminism was meant to be about having choice". But now women are almost having to be apologetic about wanting to stay home and raise their kids.

Nuclear family is broken warns parents' group - Telegraph

Still utterly butterly

2009-11-28T20:28:00.003Z

A little over three months ago I blogged that Lucy had taken to applying lashings of butter to everything possible and that we had even started to buy her a separate brand for her own indulgent purposes. Here's a pictorial reminder of the scene back then.

Today the fascination with buttering remains. Witness this scene from this morning. The only difference is that she has moved on from toast and now prefers bagels. (And she's ditched the high chair in favour of a booster seat at the table.)

But if you want the real proof of her enthusiasm, just take a look at this. It's the rise in the share price for Dairy Crest, who make her preferred brand of buttery spread, and covers the period just after the uber-buttering commenced. Co-incidence?

So here's my hot tip. Lucy's latest passion is for drawing with crayons, so expect Crayola to go big.

Who needs Warren Buffet anyhow.

Fish 'n' Chips Friday - Chip Butties Edition

2009-11-27T07:30:00.002Z

The long Christian tradition of eating fish on a Friday originates in a Friday fast which took the form of foregoing the more expensive meat in favour of the cheaper and more readily available fish instead. In this country it's seen more as a Roman Catholic trasition and yet even for non-Catholics like myself it has a resonance. Even today my company restaurant still serves fish every Friday. And of course in our house it's a tradition to have fish and chips on a Friday.

Pretty educational huh? But not half as much as you can learn from this video of last Friday evening's fish and chips dinner. For example, it demonstrates that:

1. Mealtimes in our house are anarchic.
2. Lucy pays no attention to what I tell her.
3. She's too cute for me to care that she pays no attention to what I tell her.
4. Oliver eats some fish before having chips, as Daddy asks.
4. Whatever Oliver does, Lucy has to do (except for eating some fish before having chips, as Daddy asks).
5. Lucy can eat her own body weight in chips.
6. You can't have more fun than making chip butties!

Although point 6 could be called into question when you consider the fun to be had with chicken drumsticks.

BBC News - School lessons to tackle domestic violence outlined

2009-11-25T16:53:00.003Z

BBC News - School lessons to tackle domestic violence outlined

When I first heard about this I did wonder whether the very act of telling teenage boys in school that they shouldn't beat up their girlfriends might make some of them go out and do the exact opposite.

But the more I've heard of this proposal, especially starting young in teaching kids to show respect for one another, the more reasonable and sensible it sounds. More importantly, the more I've heard, the more it sounds like it might reduce the likelihood of abusive relationships for girls growing up today. Girls like my daughter.

I like to think Lucy will be far too clever to fall into a relationship with someone who doesn't respect her. I hope and pray I'm right. All I can do is try to instill self-respect and self-esteem within her, something so sadly lacking amongst the sort of girls who put up with abusive relationships.

Oh and be a good male role model myself. That counts of a lot it seems.

Of course, having said all that, what does it say about boys today that we need these sorts of lessons? Or are we simply recognising a truth that has for too long been ignored? I heard on the radio yesterday that only 1 in 3 women suffering domestic violence who come into contact with health or social services actually have it recognised and acted upon. A frightening figure. But not as frightening as the fact that between 1 and 2 women are killed every week in the UK by abusive partners or ex-partners.

So yes, this seems like a very good idea to me.

Like father, like son? Not necessarily!

2009-11-24T12:30:00.000Z

There's a story in one of Dale Carnegie's books that goes something like this. There were two sons born of the same father. The father was an alcoholic, drug addict, bitter and cruel to his sons. He killed a liquor store cashier and was imprisoned for life. One of his sons turned out exactly like him. The other had a totally different story, raising three kids in a happy marriage, working as a general manager for a blue chip company. When both brothers were asked separately about how their lives had turned out, they had the same answer: "What else could I have become with a father like that?"

It's a striking story and one that came to mind when I heard about Omar bin Laden, the fourth sone of Osama bin Laden. Despite his father's violent hatred of those he sees as his enemies, Omar is a quiet and compssionate person who is dedicated to causes quite contrary to those of his father.

I was so struck by this contrast that I am now reading the biography of Omar and his mother. So far it is an interesting journey into a devout Muslim world very far removed from my own.

Expect me to report back whenever I (eventually) finish it.

See also this article in The TImes.

Nogey

2009-11-23T12:30:00.001Z

As I was about to get Lucy out of the car yesterday...

Lucy (rubbing her nose): "My nose!"
Me (not sure what was wrong but handing her a tissue): "Here you are sweetheart".
Lucy (having rubbed vigorously around her nostrils): "I did it Daddy!".
Me: "Yes darling, well done."
Lucy "I did it Daddy. I got my nogey!"
Me (a bit puzzled): "Did you darling? Well done. Shall we get out now?"
Lucy (pointing to car seat): "Look Daddy! I got my nogey out. There!"
Daddy (picking offending article from car seat): "That's great darling. Let's pop it here in the gutter. Now, shall we go to the shop?"
Lucy: "Yeah."

I love Lucy's language. She is very chatty for her age, forming quite long questions and statements. Her pronunciation is occasionally hard to understand but I think I can translate most things. A few of my favourites amoongst her toddleresque utterances recently are:
"Scoody doody" = Scooby Doo.
"Nic nic" - Picnic.
"Julnian" - Oliver's "Julien" Dog or her own "Lucien" Bunny which she still insists on calling Julien most of the time.
"Piderman" - Spiderman.
"Blooooon" - balloon.

But in truth her speech is getting better all the time so these treasured little funnies will soon start to disappear. The sadness at her dwindling toddlerdom will be offset by the joy of the conversations we are already starting to have.

BBC News - Dirt can be good for children, say scientists

2009-11-23T12:27:00.000Z

BBC News - Dirt can be good for children, say scientists

Hurray for messy play!

Just sign here

2009-11-21T18:00:00.001Z

Anyone who reads this blog even half regularly will know that for many years I have been a frequent visitor to the crazy shenanigans and goings-on over at "All That Comes With It" and I urge you to do the same. Not only is it entertaining as you wade through the sea of comic-book references and low-flying chickens, but it also does great work supporting the Joseph Salmon Trust.

I'll cut to the chase: all this will cost is 2 minutes of your time.

The trust supports grieving parents who have lost children, including by paying for funeral costs, including headstones. Clearly they are not cheap but did you know they are subject to VAT?

Joseph's father, Neil, who founded the trust has started a petition on the 10 Downing Street website asking the government to make grave headstones exempt from VAT.

It doesn't seem too much to ask to me.

If you agree, and are a UK citizen or resident, please sign the petition.

http://petitions.number10.gov.uk/HEADSTONEVAT/

Thank you.

Friday Fun

2009-11-20T20:54:00.004Z

I work for a French company. This morning on arriving in the office I found that a colleague renowned for his terrible jokes had left the above document on my desk.

If, like mine, your French is rusty (not helped in my case by the fact that my French colleagues speak such good English that it's pointless speaking French to them), I still wouldn't let it deter you from browsing these short jokes (blagues courtes).

Though you should be warned: a terrible joke is a terrible joke in any language.

(Link to a large version here.)

Techno Techno Techno Techno

2009-11-18T18:45:00.001Z

Let me start with a disclaimer in light of my comments on a post over at "All That Comes With It" about the purer-than-the-driven-snow nature of this blog and the fact that I would rather drink squirrell pee while being forced to watch re-runs of George and Mildred than advertise on my blog.

Disclaimer: The following post does not contain advertising, it's just that a lot of products have been placed in my house... by my wife.

In the good old days (last month) we only had an eight year-old TV, a four year old desktop computer and a compact camera. Not exactly gadget central.

But to this modest list Hayley has now added:

A laptop computer
A camcorder
A 140 watt PA system with microphone
A rotating mushroom light show thingymabob
A set of six (or is it eight) music-synchronised disco lights.

We haven't won the lottery or decided to try to match the national debt. Most of the money for the above has come from a grant that Hayley secured to support her childminding business.

Boosted by the same grant, we have also acquired:
Some pushalongs (ladybird, bumble bee, two motorbikes...)

Some writing tools (a bit hard to explain - not just pens!)
A children's games console.

I wasn't at all sure about that last one. I would like to keep computer games out of the house and away from the kids as long as possible, but it claims to be educational, helping with numbers and letters. So far I've only seen a game that involves Mickey Mouse popping balloons, so I am yet to be convinced.

The laptop and camcorder were chosen by the people offering the grant. The laptop is proving useful, including for Hayley to blog her chidminding for the parents. The camcorder is also useful on that score. It comes with a 60x (yes, sixty times) optical zoom. Why?! Do they imagine children need to be observed from a distance of half a mile? Nonetheless a nice bit of kit.

The PA system and disco lights are for childminding and might evolve into a little venture that Hayley has in mind for children's parties. We four have had the pleasure of trialling the equipment in our spare room which has become a disco for the last few evenings.

This afternoon a fellow childminder and her charges were allowed in for a boogie and loved it. The next trial will be at Hayley's playgroup's Christmas party and then at a private party she has organised for our friends just before Christmas. Watch this space to see how things develop. I'll let you know if she starts wearing bling and/or talking like Dizzy Rascal.

Heaton Moor Watch ("I shouldn't be telling you this" edition)

2009-11-16T13:35:00.006Z

There are a couple of things to mention about developments our locale at the moment.

Firstly, we apparently have one of the best restaurants in the country! Yes, Damson, which opened where Room 311 used to be has been placed second in a review of Best Restaurants by Tracey MacCleod the Independent on Sunday. So there's now probably no chance of Hayley and I managing to get in there in the foreseeable future!

In other news, our local Somerfield has undergone a complete re-fit, closing for nearly two weeks before re-emerging as a Co-Op. I have to say I'm a bit underwhelmed. There seems to be less in there and some of my favourites have gone, for example Quorn sausages being replaced by Linda McCartney. Whatever next!

The Pirus card shop has shut as its lease expired. Currently empty, which is a shame.

MD Hair seems to be going well and with the kids comfortable there it has become the salon of choice for the whole family. Hayley even dragged Zoe out drinking with the local girls one Friday night!

And finally it seems (according to a local councillors' newsletter that dropped through the letter box this week) that there are moves afoot to support the Savoy cinema in showing a wider range of films. Whatever helps prevent it becoming a Wetherspoons is good by me!

Fathers losing touch

2009-11-16T13:03:00.000Z

BBC NEWS | UK | England | Bitter divorcees 'using children'

Although the headline to this report focusses on the worst behaviours of some divorcing parents, more disturbing to me was to read that 1 in 3 children lose touch with their father after their parents divorce.

BBC NEWS | UK | Education | Cyberbullies hit primary schools

2009-11-16T13:01:00.000Z

BBC NEWS | UK | Education | Cyberbullies hit primary schools

Now here's a story I don't want to read.

What is a parent to do about this ever more pervasive creep of impersonal technology that takes the "social" out of social networking?

You can't turn back the clock, but there's undoubtedly something dehumanised and desensitised about a child that sends or watches video clips of bullying (or indeed any kind of suffering).

The Joker

2009-11-15T22:23:00.004Z

A few nights ago Oliver woke scared in the night and told me that The Joker had been under his bed and was going to "joke him". The Joker also apparently had smoke bombs in his hands. I think perhaps that Batman book should no longer be read at bedtime!

But Oliver himself can be a bit of a joker. A couple of weeks ago in the park he tagged along with a crowd of boys aged 13. There were girls there too (asking Oliver "which of us do you like the best", we could hear from across the playground!) but Oliver was only interested in riding round the playground on his bike with the big boys and proclaiming his football alliegance. They were really nice lads and one of them said to us that Oliver will have lots of friends at secondary school because he's cool!

Today Oliver was playing to the crowd again, this time with his antics climbing a tree. He got up there OK, but he got all, well, "hung up" about coming down. But it was so funny after it happened accidentally the first time, that he repeated the performance several times to an excited audience of his peers. See for yourself.

(By the way, it was all quite harmless and safe. He's dangling by his coat around his waist, with several adults also enjoying the spectacle just off camera.)

Robert Enke

2009-11-12T13:03:00.002Z

The death of Robert Enke is all the more poignant for the facts that he had lost his 2 year-old daughter in 2006 and that he seems to have hidden his illness for fear that he and his wife would lose their adopted daughter Leila.

To most of us he had the world at his feet, yet he lived in daily fear of his world collapsing.

RIP

BBC SPORT | Football | Internationals | Suicide keeper battled depression

BBC NEWS | UK | Claims of sex abuse by women grow

2009-11-09T08:15:00.001Z

BBC NEWS | UK | Claims of sex abuse by women grow

Many stories of child abuse often seem to have a man as the perpetrator. But this report seems to adjust that imbalance.

Singletrack World : Shanaze Reade Urges Kids to Lighten Up

2009-11-05T12:51:00.000Z

Singletrack World � Shanaze Reade Urges Kids to Lighten Up

Oliver isn't riding his bike to nursery now that the colder, darker mornings are with us. But this is a good idea for any of us cycling or even walking to work or school.

Snoring cure: £3 jab lasts a year - mirror.co.uk

2009-11-01T21:00:00.001Z

Snoring cure: £3 jab lasts a year - mirror.co.uk

Both Hayley and I suffer with snoring: our own and each other's! So this sounds like very good news.

Halloween (and other celebrations)

2009-10-31T19:14:00.007Z

Like many good celebrations in our house, Halloween seems to last about a week or more. The kids have dressed up to go to two Halloween parties this week, not to mention finding lots of other places being dressed up in spooky mist (cotton wool) and surrounded by flying witches (paper cut-outs).

And in keeping with this premature spookiness, Hayley decided to make a halloween lantern a full week before the big day. I warned sceptically that it would be soggy before the thirty-first arrived, but nonetheless it was great fun to make.

Here are a few shots of the carving out, plus Lucy and I washing up afterwards, which included rinsing the pumpkin seeds. (Still not sure what I can make with them though.)

By the time Halloween arrived our lantern had indeed become a little sad and soggy looking. Nonetheless it was an impressive piece of carving by Hayley. (We other three just did the enjoyable digging out at the start.) And we put it outside on display to show that trick-or-treaters were welcome. In the event we only had two lots, but very impressively scary they were too.

We, on the other hand, already having been to a few Halloween parties, opted for a "sticky picnic" that one of the local churches had organised. This involved the kids first getting a bit sticky with crafts such as making a decorated candle and a tray to hold their hot-dogs. Later they got sticky decorating doughnuts and biscuits with icing ready for consumption later.

Being a church event, there were a couple of prayers thrown in amongst the stories and games. It was a fun couple of hours and culminated in a game for all the kids. Thay had to sit in a circle and steal something from the child in the middle who had their eyes closed. They then his it behind their back and the person in the middle had to guess who stole it. Oliver played the role of thief successfully and then the guesser. It was great fun.

The weekend's final celebration was the Christening of a friend's third child. (The only one from the 2005 gang to have a third so far!) There was great entertainment for the kids and Lucy loved it, joining in without inhibition. She danced, played the games... all with kids mostly much older than her.

My favourite part was when she tried the hoola-hoop. Not bad for a 2 year old I can tell you.

I got to enjoy a few pints of Guinness and consequently danced around in a silly fashion, not to mention swinging Oliver around in the air and also through my legs rock-n-roll style, plus dancing with Lucy in my arms. Exhausting but fun!

I have to say that the kids are at ages now where they can not only have fun together but can go to the same parties and both enjoy them. In fact we all had a great time at the Christening. There are times when we'll wonder about a third child. But the four of us can do so much together now that to give that up might be a selfish and foolhardy thing to do. Who knows. Whaetever happens on that score, today I'm loving our little family unit, just as it is.

A biiiiiig "W"

2009-10-30T22:07:00.004Z

On Friday afternoons, Hayley and I sometimes try to spend time with the kids one-to-one. I think this is valuable to both children, but perhaps especially to Oliver, as it allows him to have some time where he is not hindered in any way by his younger, often adoring, but also less restrained sibling.

So this afternoon I took Oliver to ride on the Manchester wheel.

But before I tell you about that, let me mention that to get there we took a train, which Oliver was looking forward to almost as much as (or perhaps even more than) the wheel, which admittedly he hadn't seen.

In fact, though he enjoyed the ride on the little Sprinter train, he complained that it wasn't really going fast. No longer is simply a train ride an entertainment it seems. My little boy is growing up into a big boy!

Arriving at Piccadilly Station, Oliver declared he was hungry and asked for a sandwich. A tuna mayo baguette with cucumber and lettuce was his selection, to be precise. We had half each and to my surprise he ate every last crumb of his half, despite already having had lunch not long before. A growing boy indeed.

My plan to then catch a tram was thwarted by the fact that no trams are running through Piccadilly at the moment due to maintenance works. So we walked across town, Oliver being periodically carried on my shoulders through what must have seemed like big crowds compared to what he's used to.

And so we finally arrived at our destination: the wheel! I've seen it many times and often thought of it as just a big ferris wheel. In fact it is two-thirds the height of the London Eye. But unlike the Capitol's wheel (which Hayley and I rode on back in 2003) it has much smaller capsules, meaning you can't hide in the middle trying to keep your distance from the drop. And it also takes you up much more quickly, rotating three or four times before your ride is over.

Did I mention yet that I am not great with heights?

I sat rather stiffly on the seat, trying to look out at the horizon and not down at the pavement below, while not conveying the slightest hint of my tension to Oliver.

Oliver on the other hand was totally un-phased by this sudden adjustment in altitude.

He even stood leaning against the doors which were curved so you could see vertically down to the street below.

It has to be said the views were great. And I did enjoy the ride, though at about 13 minutes I was probably just about coping with the height by the time we had to get out. (Who am I kidding! My sigh of relief probably caused gales in the Atlantic this evening.)

And just for the record I took a little video of part of our ride.

Big Kid Circus

2009-10-30T21:34:00.001Z

Oliver samples the candy floss

A couple of Sundays ago, Oliver and I went to the circus. The Big Kid Circus to be precise. We went with Oliver's friend Jack and his Dad, Manny.

It was not cheap, but there was an online discount voucher which made it much more palatable. And after all, how often do you get to go to a circus these days?

And when I say a circus, it was a real old-style circus with no safety net, but equally with none of the animals that were pretty much de rigeur in my youth.

It was clearly an operation run on a tight budget. The performers all doubled as servers of popcorn, candy floss, etcetera during the interval.

The performances were good, each interspersed with an appearance from either a group of dancing girls or the clown, but the sound quality wasn't great so the humour was sometimes lost a little. Not that it mattered very much. Oliver still enjoyed the spectacle.

His favourite part was when one of the performers who did an act involving a high slung bungee rope appeared dressed as Spiderman. At the interval Oliver had the opportunity to have a photo taken with a selection of the performers, but there was only ever going to be one choice.

After the interval came what was arguably the highlight, an act involving a man walking on a rotating figure of eight shaped apparatus high above the ring. It culminated in him walking and running blindfold on it and he even tripped at one point. Was it part of the act? Hard to say. But he was definitely the star turn for myself and Manny, both of us being barely able to watch.

Throw in an escapologist and various other acrobatic turns and all in all it was a good afternoon. But I'm sure all Oliver will remember in the long run is Spiderman.

BBC NEWS | Health | Curry spice 'kills cancer cells'

2009-10-28T13:00:00.000Z

BBC NEWS | Health | Curry spice 'kills cancer cells'

So I can eat curries for health reasons. Fantastic!

BBC NEWS | Middle East | Report: Palestinians denied water

2009-10-27T12:26:00.001Z

BBC NEWS | Middle East | Report: Palestinians denied water

The apparently ever-increasing levels of inhumanity in the middle east are depressing. I can't imagine what it must be like trying to live with so little water. At least with a free press and organisations such as Amnesty International there is still hope for improvement.

BBC NEWS | Health | Steep rise in Down's pregnancies

2009-10-27T12:24:00.001Z

BBC NEWS | Health | Steep rise in Down's pregnancies

It was back in January 2007 that we had a scan for Lucy to check for the likelihood of Downs Syndrome. My post at that time stirred up a reaction or two (misgiudeded and unjustified too, I might add).

Hearing about this report on the Today programme radio this morning, I was surprised to hear that now apparently every woman is offered the nuchal translucency scan. I thought you just got the blood test and even then were only told the result and offered an amniocentesis if the score indicated a high chance of a downs pregnancy. We certainly had to pay for the nuchal translucency scan ourselves back in 2007.

Apparently the percentage of those who discover they have a downs pregnancy and then decide to abort is unchganged.

BBC NEWS | Africa | Malawi: A mother's race against time

2009-10-26T21:30:00.000Z

BBC NEWS | Africa | Malawi: A mother's race against time

Several years ago when Hayley was pregnant with Oliver, we saw a fireman's bike in a mini museum in Prague. I'm not sure how much real use it saw, perhaps none at all.

But here is a genuinely life-saving bicycle, used as an ambulance for pregnant women in Malawi.

Sadly my excitement at this story was dampened when I read that there are more Malawian doctors in Manchester than in the whole of Malawi, a symptom of the lucrative wages our government is offering in order to try to maximise improvements in our own National Health Service.

BBC NEWS | Health | 'Younger wife' for marital bliss

2009-10-26T12:11:00.002Z

BBC NEWS | Health | 'Younger wife' for marital bliss

Hayley is 6 years younger than me, so that's a good start. And if you want proof she is smarter than me, although we met via the same means, I paid to do so and she didn't!

First cinema trip

2009-10-25T22:12:00.003Z

Oliver has been to the cinema for the first time. I have to say that it was a bit of a wrench to miss this "first", but I didn't want to leave Lucy with someone else so he went with his Mummy and also his friend Harry and his Mummy.

The film was The Fantastic Mr Fox, based on the book by Roald Dahl. Apparently Oliver was pretty attentive, occasionally standing up and sometimes sitting on Hayley's knee. She thinks the film was perhaps better suited to slightly older children, nonethless it seems to have been a success.

Of course, the popcorn went down a storm, regardless of the choice of film.

Illuminated

2009-10-20T22:13:00.000+01:00

I am lucky to live in a part of the world with many great cultural attractions. Manchester has a wealth of industrial and sporting history. Liverpool has the Beatles and its maritime past. Wigan even has its "pier" (made famous by George Orwell's book).

Then there's Blackpool.

OK, I admit Blackpool has its tower and as a child I loved the place. Even as a teenager I'd make pilgrimages there with friends by train. The fun-fairs, the candy floss, the arcades full of games and of course the Pleasure Beach were all worth the trip. But I'm afraid that as the years passed I lost my desire to visit Blackpool, largely due to its tendency to be full of drunks as the evening set in.

But as with so many aspects of life, having kids has helped me to re-connect with what joy there is to be had. And in this case with what is good about Blackpool. In fact, with what is great about it: its illuminations.

Yes, every year during the early autumn, Blackpool puts on a show of lights that has been going for donkeys years. Yes, even since before I was born. Since 1879 in fact. The lights portray characters and tell stories and have enthralled kids for generations.

So last Saturday Hayley took our two to see them. And they loved it! At one point Lucy, who had been asleep, woke to see one of Blackpool's old fashioned trams fully decorated with lights and just emitted a long awe-filled "Wowwwwwwwww". Oliver loved the stories and characters - everything from Alice in Wonderland to the Teletubbies - but was most delighted when he saw Mickey Mouse standing near the road and Mickey waved to him.

Of course there was lots of other fun, especially the rides on the pier.

But I like to think its the illuminations that will have captured their imaginations and hopefully will be cause for us all to go back next year and for many years to come.

BBC NEWS | UK | Education | More choice on school start age

2009-10-20T13:17:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | UK | Education | More choice on school start age

Hot on the heels of last week's report saying children should not start school until 6 years old.

The S word

2009-10-16T22:34:00.002+01:00

When Oliver was born our lives changed forever. His arrival alone was cataclysmic enough to make every day feel like a journey in its own right, filled with joy, tears and just occasionally some sleep.

The adventure ahead was so huge that every milestone seemed far off. With a year before he would walk and longer still until he'd talk, other yet more far-flung mile-posts barely crossed our minds.

And yet one in particular has loomed ever larger in the intervening years. One that is almost impossible to avoid and anecdotally at least can be the source of great anguish.... albeit mostly for the parents. It's the S word: "school".

When Hayley was still pregnant an old school-friend of mine told me Hayley should make sure the baby was born ("squeeze the little bugger out" I believe was her exact turn of phrase) in August (noting that our bump was due on August 24th) and not let it drift into September, because that would mean our offspring would be at home another year, the clear implication being that they would cost us more money.

How naive I was to imagine this was a logical and perhaps sensible piece of advice. Today, with my son having just missed the cut (birthday on September 8th) and having just watched so many of his friends since birth go off to school for the first time, I am enormously grateful that he has another year with his Mum and his sister before starting school himself.

Don't get me wrong, he likes his nursery and we like him going there, but knowing he will have grown physically, mentally and emotionally for a whole year more gives me more confidence that he will adapt well to school. He is a sensitive soul, generous and kind-hearted. And innocent. As surely all four year olds be. But some are not so innocent and frankly a little more mean. Sure he'll come across that a little at nursery too, but I can't help feeling that being the oldest in his class will be better for him than had he been the youngest.

The thought of Lucy being the youngest in her class (as she will be) does not frighten me quite as much. It still frightens me, but she seems to me much more worldly wise and tough than Oliver was at the same age and that re-assures me somewhat. Even so, despite being 23 months younger than Oliver, she will start school exactly a year after him.

And so today we visited the school that both our children are most likely to attend and met with the headmaster who gave us a guided tour.

We've heard good things about the head and I made so bold as to tell him so, which he took in his stride. His enthusiasm, friends tell us, is behind much of the success of the school. And it does seem to be successful. We've never come across a parent of a pupil there who is unhappy with the school and its Ofsted reports are impressive.

The first thing that strikes you about the school is its size. It's big! It has 450 pupils and large grounds. And when you enter you are greeted by a corridor that stretches into the distance like something from Kafka's "The Trial". But the layout and location of the different classes seems to limit the impact of this hugeness, including two separate playgrounds based on age.

The facilities seem good (though I don't have much to compare with yet), there are large playing fields and the atmosphere is one in which all the kids seemed busy and happy. (The fact it was Friday and they were on Golden Time, enjoying activities of their own choosing, may have helped with this!) Several of the children spoke to the head unprompted about what they were doing and seemed at ease with him. It was generally just a really good atmosphere of busy learning.

While there Oliver kept his eyes peeled for some of his friends and sure enough we found half a dozen of them in one of the reception classes. One of them piped up that Lucy had called his house at 4am the previous morning. Slightly embarrassed, we explained this story to the head and moved swiftly on.

We were told about lots of things that the school does, something of an information overload to be honest, but also managed a few questions ourselves, including about bullying and the approach to religion. The latter was interesting to me as it fell somewhere between my own Church of England school upbringing and an entirely secular approach. Grace is said at meals and the school teaches Christian values but also teaches about other faiths. I like that.

We touched upon the age of the kids starting school. We had all heard about today's review of education in England which suggests kids should start school at 6 years old. The headmaster said that in effect they were already doing that at his school, as the first year is very much play-oriented learning and only in the following year does the focus shift to teaching the national curriculum in a more structured way. Again this felt right to me.

During our walk round the school, both Lucy and Oliver, who were both a bit tired, each managed to bump their head! Oliver wobbled backwards and hit his head on a sharp metal door-frame, while Lucy, apparently with too much to observe around her, walked straight into the corner of a book case with quite a whack! So it wasn't the ideal environment in which to conduct a considered and in-depth discussion of the direction of 21st century education, but it was enough to leave us impressed and quite happy at the thought of our kids beginning their school life the environment we had witnessed.

Now we have two other local schools to see. This school is our "catchment" school, so it is likely our children would end up there anyway, but we want to look at the two other local schools for comparison.

And though the journey through school starts a whole year from now, applications will have to be made this year. And anyway, that year's gonna fly. I just know it.

BBC NEWS | Education | Science and literacy in the sandpit

2009-10-16T21:57:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Education | Science and literacy in the sandpit

An interesting article on play-based learning, which is something we discussed on today's visit to one of Oliver's prospective schools for next year.

BBC NEWS | Education | Open-plan school hearing problems

2009-10-16T21:54:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Education | Open-plan school hearing problems

This article is of particular interest to me, not only because Oliver has a little hearing difficulty and one of his potential schools (though not the one we visited today) is open-plan, but also because I work in an open-plan office which is so noisy and distracting that I sometimes resort to putting on my iPod to block out the noise.

BBC NEWS | Education | Delay formal lessons 'to age six'

2009-10-16T21:50:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Education | Delay formal lessons 'to age six'

A subject we touched upon today with the head-teacher of a prospective primary school for Oliver.

A is for Alcira

2009-10-16T13:30:00.000+01:00

Last night Lucy woke at 4am crying. Hayley rushed in to her and, thinking it was more like 6am, she brought her into our bed. I retired to the spare room for the remainder of the available sleeping time, leaving plenty of room for my girls.

In the morning Hayley got a call from a friend, ALcira. She was checking everything was OK after we "called her at 4am last night". It seems Hayley's phonme was lost in the bedclothes with its keypad unlocked and someone rolled onto it initiating the call.

It called their landline so it woke the house. The silence that greeted them when they amswered the call made them think it was a call from Alcira's native south america.

Oops.

We have now both issued grovelling apologies and promised them a nice bottle of wine.

BBC NEWS | Health | Move to cut child diarrhoea death

2009-10-15T13:05:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Health | Move to cut child diarrhoea death:

"It is a tragedy that diarrhoea, which is little more than an inconvenience in the developed world, kills an estimated 1.5m children each year."

I'm telling you Mummy, it's a hat

2009-10-14T22:28:00.002+01:00

BBC NEWS | Education | Home educators' worry at register

2009-10-14T22:01:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Education | Home educators' worry at register

We have friends in the States who have home educated their kids for some of the time. I think at a certain age (far beyond that of our children), and if you have the opportunity to undertake particular learning experiences, it can be a good thing. But I don't foresee us having the time, money and facilities to take up such an option.

And she says I'm a softie

2009-10-12T20:23:00.006+01:00

This morning there was a little more nip in the air and as Lucy's hats from last winter are mostly outgrown, Hayley decided to seek one out with her.

Despite the fact that we are in period of post-wedding fiscal belt-tightening, Hayley managed to justify to herself splashing out no less that 10 quid on this hat from Monsoon.

Of course were I to have taken Lucy out I'd have been as strict as strict can be and there would have been absolutely no chance of me coming home with not only the hat but any number of other Monsoon offerings in which my daughter would look just adorable. No, not a chance. I have will power you see. And just so long as I'm banned by my wife from taking my daughter into Monsoon for fear of financial meltdown, that's my story and I'll be sticking to it.

That clay business: the post-script

2009-10-12T20:13:00.004+01:00

It turns out that Hayley today asked Oliver's teacher about that business with the clay. It transpires that he wasn't in the group making clay pots. He just happened to wander over, find some clay and start making and decorating some shapes for himself.

The teacher kindly included Oliver's shapes when collecting together the bowls from the group. Hence his inclusion next to the array of pots and bowls.

So he was neither a revolutionary nor a rebel without a cause. More just nosey. That'll be from his Mum that will.

The marginally more serious point though is that Oliver seems to be taking to crafts in a way that he never did previosuly. Of course, they still come a long way behind playing at being Superman or a Power Ranger, but it's interesting to see how his interests are evolving.

Thinks that make you go Hmmmm...

2009-10-10T08:00:00.001+01:00

I've had a few things make me go "Hmmmmm" since Oliver started nursery.

First up was when he came home from Day 2 of staying for his packed lunch (lovingly prepared by Mummy) and told us that the teacher took his dessert of a little bag of Cadbury's Buttons away from him saying "it's not fair on the other children". Hmmmmmmm. He wasn't naughty or anything. Apparently they just have a "no sweeties" policy. A chocolate biscuit? That's OK. A chocolate cake? THat's fine too. But a tiny bag of Buttons? Not acceptable apparently. Seems odd, rather arbitrary and a little interfering to me. Afrer all, they were a little treat for him as he had been so good for us, so they undermined our attempt to reward his good behaviour.

Hmmmmm....

But I get the feeling that we're gonna have to start to get used to that. A friend came home from her daughters new school this week in tears because the teacher had allegedly told her daughter "you are a naughty girl". Any teacher or child-minder knows this is a no-no. The behaviour should be pointed out as naughty but the child should not be labelled. But as this story is based on the re-telling of a four year old, who's to say it's entirely accurate. But it's a reminder of having "to let them go" at what is still such a tender and vulnerable age.

The other thing that made me go "hmmmm" this week was when I picked Oliver up from his nursery and he took me to see what he had made. He had made three different clay shapes decorated with glitter and sequins, one of which he said he would give to Father Christmas. All well and good. But next to Oliver's little shapes, which were laid on a piece of paper with his name on, was a rack full of little clay bowls decorated in the same way, each with a slip of paper inside with a child's name on. The contrast was stark.

What should I have made of this?

Part of me says that he is ploughing his own furrow. He has a clear idea of what he wants to do and will do it regardless. He is the William Web Ellis of clay moulding! He will lead us forward in some way the rest of us haven't even yet envisaged!

Another part of me pictures James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause. A loner not connecting, but without the romantic ending.

OK, I'm exaggerating. Wildly! (Were I really worried I could just ask his teacher about it.) But still. Something to make me go "Hmmmmm...".

Born to be Wild?

2009-10-09T20:59:00.005+01:00

There are times that Lucy frightens me to death. The powerful combination of her determined nature and her desire to be mischievous has more than once pointed her towards danger. Such as the times she has run away laughing in the direction of a road. Or her refusal to listen when I told her not to lean into Oliver's big toy box to get a toy and she almost toppled in head-first, finally ending up stuck upside-down (before Daddy quickly came to the rescue).

And there are times when Lucy absolutely melts me. When I pick her up and she throws her arms around my neck with her head on my shoulder. Or when my arrival at home is greeted with "Daddddyyyyyyy" as she runs into my arms. Or when she tells me to "get Oliver one, Daddy" referring to whatever I've just given to her. Or when she joins in with her big brother's play despite having no idea what the game is. In fact the list of these times is substantially longer than the first, so I'll stop there (for now).

For me this picture, taken this evening, somehow captures both sides of Lucy. She looks sweet and adorable, but there is no mistaking she wants to take possession of this bike and ride away on it. (Indeed, despite its rear wheel being locked she got it half way across the showroom.) And if I were the shop assistant, I'd be too charmed to stop her.

Re-united

2009-10-07T20:57:00.002+01:00

Last night I printed out copies of a poster, seeking information about the disappearance of Big Julien. They were taken to the location of his disappearance in the hope of turning up some new leads.

Within hours, Julien was returned home! It seems that Oliver left him at the church playgroup and one of the helpers took him home for safekeeping without telling us. Hayley was so excited at his return that she rang Oliver from her sick-bed to tell him the good news.

This evening my son was happy to have his best friend back in his arms. Though I did hear Oliver say to him at one point, in a rather serious tone, "Big Julien, don't you get lost again"!

Illness update

2009-10-07T20:32:00.002+01:00

Hayley went to a doctor this afternoon. Usually if you are suspected of having swine flu the doctors won't see you (in case you spread the virus at the surgery), but as she has asthma they wanted to check her over.

She was told after the consultation that she has a severe chest infection. So apparently it's not swine flu after all (though no swabs or blood samples were taken so I do still wonder). The doctor put her on anti-biotics at twice the normal dosage.

This evening she was feeling well enough to eat her first proper meal of the week. She still went to bed at 8pm but hopefully she has turned the corner.

Lucy, who had a temperature late yesterday evening, has had no recurrence and seems as fit as a fiddle.

In fact both kids were in great spirits on coming home to find Mummy up and about (though trying hard not to breathe on them). And coupled with our other good news today, we are all feeling a distinctly chirpier bunch.

BBC NEWS | Americas | Jail terms for faith healing pair

2009-10-07T12:59:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Americas | Jail terms for faith healing pair

I remember reading this case with horror. Perhaps giving them compulsory lessons in human biology would have been more appropriate.

Asd there's a joke about a man on a roof in a flood waiting for God to save him which, while apt, is probably not appropriate.

But the judge had it right for me. "God probably works through other people, some of them doctors". Judge Vincent Howard

BBC NEWS | Africa | 'I married four women to save money'

2009-10-07T12:56:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Africa | 'I married four women to save money'

Now that can't possibly make sense!

Squeak Piggy Squeak?

2009-10-07T12:37:00.003+01:00

Hayley doesn't get ill much. And when she does she tends to battle on through it. So on Monday morning when she said she felt ill I was sympathetic but not very concerned.

By Monday evening she felt worse.

By Tuesday morning it was clear she had full-on flu and could not have her childminding kids. We quickly arranged cover and I took Oliver to and from nursery, leaving work very early to do so. (My planned 10-hour day was reduced to 5.)

Last night she complained of a worsening headache and went to bed at 8pm. I retired to the spare room so as not to disturb her if I got up to the kids and to lessen the chance of infection spreading.

Late in the evening Lucy woke crying and I found she had a temperature of 101. Cue Calpol.

By morning Lucy was back to normal, but Hayley appeared saying she felt worse still. An even more complex arrangement of support from friends/childminders was arranged to have the kids (ours and minded) through the day and as I left for work having dropped them off, Hayley was talking about getting a swab taken to confirm whether she has Swine Flu.

By the time I got to work I had been up for three and a half hours and with all the rushing round felt like I'd done half a day's work already!

It's now lunchtime and Hayley is still waiting for a call back from the doctor to help decide whether to get the Tamiflu. She sounded very rough on the phone.

And there you have it. Our house is in chaos.

The only upsides I can find to all this are that it makes me appreciate what a great job Hayley does during the week with all the kids and that it has actually given me a little bit more quality time with the kids who have handled it all incredibly well and without complaint.

Anyway, regardless of what strain of flu she has, I doubt Hayley will be leaping from her sickbed before the weekend. I am now crossing my fingers that the kids don't get it.

She's a peach

2009-10-06T20:42:00.000+01:00

Lucy currently loves peaches. Here she is pictured in the final moments of a single-handed demolition of a nice big, juicy peach. All that's left is the stone.

Delightful though it is that she eats healthy fruit such as this, her table manners leave something to be desired at the moment. She has developed a liking for stuffing as much food into her mouth as possible as she reaches the end of her meal. Sometimes it seems to be just so she can ask for more. At others it is perhaps so she can get down from the table and play with Oliver. She's more a hamster than peach at that point.

BBC NEWS | Special Reports | Aid group in child mortality plea

2009-10-05T12:38:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Special Reports | Aid group in child mortality plea

Oliver: the chef

2009-10-04T21:31:00.005+01:00

On visiting the "big" Tesco this Saturday morning, Oliver's eye was caught by the fresh fish counter. He asked whether we could get some. Readily I obliged, buying 3 skinless, boneless salmon fillets that were on offer, without the slightest idea how I would cook them such that my kids would eat them.

However, I had no fear, as I felt sure that the web would come to my rescue and indeed it did in the form of old favourite, Annabel Karmel. She had a simple recipe for Salmon Skewers. So simple in fact that I enlisted Oliver's help to make them. You can find the the recipe on AnnabelKarmel.com. But here is our step-by-step account of today's cookery class extraordinaire.

First, chop the salmon into cubes. By carefully assisting, not least to preserve my own digits, I was able to let Oliver do this. Obviously I wasn't so reckless as to try to take pictures at the same time, lest we end up with shots of "how I ended up in Causalty". (That's ER for those speaking the other English.)

Next make the marinade and mix.

Then add the salmon, stirring in the marinade.

Place the salmon pieces onto the skewers. (A bit blurry this one: hard to capture whilst trying not to skewers only son.)

Leave for one hour. Actually we skipped this, instead stirring for a good few minutes before leaving to stand for 10 minutes more.

The it was into the oven, where it was closely monitored.

And finally, serve with broccoli and rice... et voila!

It turned out that although he ate a little, Oliver was not so keen on salmon as he had hoped.

(He went on to have some of the chicken from Mummy's chicken korma instead.)

Lucy on the other hand loved it!

(But still insisted on also stealing some of Mummy's chicken later.)

Dessert was a yogurt followed by a couple of pieces of Dairy Milk chocolate (chopped up into 6 pieces to try to slow the rate at which it was wolfed down).

And there you have it. Next week I may venture past the fish counter again, in the hope of an excuse to cook Sea Bass baked in salt. Now, what wine goes with that...?

Missing: Big Julien

2009-10-03T22:37:00.005+01:00

Oliver aged 4 months with Big Julien.

The unthinkable finally happened. We have lost Big Julien.

Anyone who knows us or has read this blog for a while will know that Big Julien is Oliver's favourite soft toy that he has had since he was 10 days old and which has been his comforter ever since we took away his dummy when still a baby. Even these days if he gets upset he will ask for Big Julien. Not to mention the fact that he still cuddles up with him to go to sleep every night. You only have to search my Flickr photos for "Julien" to see how Oliver and Julien have been inseparable from the daay he appeared.

Well, on Friday Big Julien was taken to a local playgroup and was last seen sitting on a chair there. It appears he never made it home. Consequently, last night Oliver went to bed without him for the first time in ages. And the preceding times were when he could be fooled by the "spare" that we had especially brought over from the States. But since he cottoned on to my deception this spare has really only been a minor player in Oliver's life, largely ignored.

There was the small comfort that we still have Baby Julien (a smaller version) that he has had for quite a while, but even so, last night was punctuated with questions about where Big Julien was and it was the first thing he asked this morning.

Hayley has been to the church where the playgroup is held and searched the store room, but to no avail. I fear Oliver may have dropped him as he got into the car and someone has picked him up, taking him away rather than handing him in to the church (where the car was parked).

Of course it is still within the realms of possibility that he will turn up, even here at home (though we have turned the place upside down so I'm probably kidding myself). Oliver did claim at one point yesterday to have brought him home, but I think this was more wishful thinking than fact, as he said he was at playgroup on other occasions.

Hayley and I are gutted. I feel sick sometimes when I think of how he has lost his number one comfort.

On the bright side, he did sleep reasonably well last night and today has gone to bed with Baby Julien and Big Julius (the name of the spare) without much concern. However, the time will come when he gets upset and wants Big Julien. I really hope we find him before then, but as time goes on I'm running out of hope.

Of course to my 4 year old son this is a terribly serious matter. But it has served to illustrate something else to me. Having watched a documentary about the 18-year long kidnapping of Jaycee Lee Dugard on TV last night, I can barely start to imagine the horror of what her parents experienced. I keep looking in the car expecting to find my son's favourite toy and then feeling sick when it's not there. How much more mind-numbingly awful must it be to keep looking in hope for your child.

Having said that, of course here in the UK we have been witnesses to the unfolding tale of Madeleine McCann, whose abduction was so shocking and omnipresent on our TV screens in the days after it happened that I couldn't find words to say that weren't already all around us. In fact I've never commented on it in this blog for that reason: it has all been said. It is an intolerable nightmare that somehow the McCanns must live through for the sake of their other two children.

So it may not be the end of the world that Big Julien is missing, but it has had more impact than you might at first think in our household.

Oliver earlier this year with Big Julien and Big Julius.

Saturday snap

2009-10-03T20:48:00.001+01:00

Just the cutest little lady in the world. Even (or perhaps that should be especially) when she has stolen and put on her big brother's trainers.

BBC NEWS | Health | Daily sweets 'linked to violence'

2009-10-01T13:11:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Health | Daily sweets 'linked to violence'

This report makes me feel somewhat vindicated (and less cruel) in pushing my kids to eat fruit rather than sweets and in telling them to wait close to mealtimes rather than snack (given the believed link to delayed gratification).

BBC NEWS | Health | Working mums' children 'less fit'

2009-09-29T07:33:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | Health | Working mums' children 'less fit'

It's hard enough for a stay-at-home-Mum to do everything she'd like for her kids, so it doesn't surprise me that it's harder when working.

And this report seems to be across all classes of families.

Daddy's two/three-wheeled taxi

2009-09-27T20:34:00.002+01:00

Oliver has a swimming lesson on Sunday mornings and last week when Hayley took Lucy along too the little lady misbehaved the whole time resulting in Hayley being away from the pool area for much of his lesson. (A fellow Mum he knows was was still there so he wasn't worried.)

So this weekend we decided to leave Lucy with me.

After initial protests at realising Mummy was going out without her, she rather morosely slumped onto my shoulder and gave me a disgruntled hug. But I soon cheered her up by getting out her talking parrot which repeats everything you say. As I was late getting up I had some brunch and Lucy joined me for a piece of toast which she also fed to the parrot.

This done, I then took her down to Decathlon to try on winter coats. In the end we didn't buy anything but I got a good idea of the choice and she got to cheekily run away from me every time I said "can you try this on please Lucy".

I also bought her a new bike helmet as she has been using Oliver's cast-off, which is fine but I knew she'd love a pink one and it's always good to have a spare. On the return journey she fell asleep.

She was still asleep when we got home. So I sat with her until she woke up. And although the picture may make her position appear both dangerous and uncomfortable, I can assure you that the seat (a Hamax Siesta) is designed to do that and she woke up in a good mood.

Later, I fulfilled my promise of the night before to take Oliver out on his tag-a-long bike. He, too, wanted to go to Decathlon but this time for a snack and to look at the boats (canoes). Once there he also did some evaluation bounces on the large trampoline. For about 10 minutes in fact, during which time Hayley and Lucy turned up with two other kids and their Mum. So we ended up staying there til the place closed.

When it was time to go Lucy refused and so as an experiment Hayley pretended to leave and then hid behind a car. Lucy did not care one jot. Eventually Hayley gave up and carried the little lady kicking (well, wriggling) and screaming to the car.

On the way home on the tag-a-long bike, Oliver went very quiet and sure enough when I turned round he was looking a bit sleepy. When this happens we get off and walk for a while until we've woken up a bit. It wasn't a problem as we were nearly home anyway.

One last thing about today's bike journey with Oliver. He has grown slightly since the last time he was on the tag-a-long bike and he can now just about pedal properly. And I was amazed to find that when he does it is actually noticable! So I can now look forward to taking things just that little bit easier when we go out for a ride. Just don't tell the little man yet.

Apple picking 2009

2009-09-26T21:39:00.001+01:00

Oliver gives this year's crop his seal of approval.

It was about 3 years ago that Hayley and I took Oliver to pick some apples at my Dad's house. Today we took a somewhat bigger Oliver back for a second harvest. But it turned out to be Lucy who was the more enthusiastic apple picker.

I pointed out to my Dad that Oliver loves apples and was our house expert, so he would be tasting the apples and declaring whether they were ready to pick. Dutifully Oliver tried one and anounced: "Hmm Hmmmmm!" (going on to devour all but the core). And so the picking commenced.

Oliver sat on my shoulders and picked a few, but when not on my shoulders was less keen. Lucy on the other hand spotted the step ladders and was up them before you could say "basic rules of safety". She greatly enjoyed picking them from the tree as well as picking up windfalls from the floor and putting them into Granddad's bag.

As for me, back in the playground of my own childhood I was straight up the tree before you could say "bad example to your children" and was soon standing on dubiously thin branches, reaching for the juiciest and reddest apples. I was even brave (read as foolhardy) enough to take a photo of my family while up there.

Once I had gathered my target fruit I gingerly came back down, much in the fashion of a cat that bounds up to the top of a tree only to find that getting down is a whole heap more tricky.

We were also assisted by my sister and her little boy, who tucked into one of our home-grown apples for the first time.

We brought a couple of bags home and will eat/cook them over the coming days. It will be nice for the kids to cook something that they have picked themselves from the tree. I'm thinking apple crumble!

Sadly there seem to be no equivalent Community Harvest schemes such as that in which James in Seattle participated recently. To be honest, in these days of perfect but all-too-uniform looking fruit on the supermarket shelves, I bet most people would turn their noses up at our authentic and sometimes a bit gnarly shaped apples, which is a shame as they are rather delicious. (And big! Lucy and I shared one this morning.)

This year might be the last that we harvest the apples, as my Mum (who owns the land by the way, despite us eating all her fruit!) is selling the land on which the trees stand. So if you have any fruit you want picking next autumn, just give us a call. We have excellent fruit-picking resumes and only require a modest bag-full as payment.

Saturday snap

2009-09-26T12:26:00.000+01:00

I went to Tesco with the kids to get some nappies and found an ingenious way to check out the latest TVs in peace.

Reasons to be Cheerful (Part 3)

2009-09-23T19:00:00.000+01:00

"Bantu Stephen Biko, listening to Rico
Harpo, Groucho, Chico"

Or in this case, Groucho, Groucho, Mummy-O!

Actually, we were having a pirate dinner...

Me time, You Time, Without the other Two Time

2009-09-22T19:00:00.000+01:00

Turn the pages of any decent book about parenting and family life and you will soon discover some important advice: make some time for yourself.

It's not always easy. Without extended family on our doorstep and with babysitters coming at a price (even if it is as little as the price of a return sitting), it can be hard to get away from the daily routine of work and looking after the kids.

Nonetheless, we do manage to get out together from time to time and even to have a bit of time to ourselves individually.

Sunday morning was a case in point for me. Foregoing my lie-in, I went out to explore the Fallowfield Loop, a disused railway line now repaired to be enjoyed on foot, on horseback or on a bike.

Taking the latter option, I found a largely off-road route to reach the loop. Setting off before 9am, I was rewarded within minutes by the sun burning through what had been a chill misty morning. I was out for a couple of hours, exploring ways to link up with other trails I know.

Once home, I showered and got ready for another treat: going to the Manchester derby at Old Trafford. It turned out to be a 4-3 thriller with United winning in the dying seconds having three times thrown away the lead.

Returning from the game it was back to family life and the birthday party of one of Oliver's friends. But seeing my family again was all the more enjoyable for the little time to indulge my own pursuits.

It's a constant battle to make a little time - and a little money - to go out and do things that re-assert who we are a a couple and individually. Not much time is needed, but needed it still is. Time to please ourselves, be ourselves... Time enough to miss the kids a little and hopefully appreciate them a little more too.

BBC NEWS | England | Cambridgeshire | Killer mother jailed for 33 years

2009-09-22T12:53:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | England | Cambridgeshire | Killer mother jailed for 33 years

Unfathomable.

Reasons to be Cheerful (Part 2)

2009-09-21T21:31:00.006+01:00

I cycled to work today.

Today, like every day for about the last week, was dry and at least occasionally sunny. And tomorrow looks about the same!

When I came home tonight I looked through the window at my family having dinner. As soon as Lucy noticed me she shouted "Daddyyyyyyyyyyy!!!" at the top of her voice, quickly followed by Oliver.

After dinner this evening Oliver sat on the table next to the TV in his Superman outfit eating an apple, watching Mama Mia and singing along with some gusto. I went over and put my arm round him and he hugged my cheek to his as he sang.

Before leaving for work this morning Hayley told Lucy that her dolly (another one she's named "Mama") needed changing. Lucy laid her on the little doll's quilt and changed the (size 1) nappy that she had on. She also feeds her dolls and sings to them. For all that her way of communicating can involve screaming at times, she is a very, very loving little girl.

At the end of every bath, when Oliver gets out, he plays what is now a very well established standing joke. I kneel down and lift him from the bath. Before I can get the towel round him he starts to climb onto my knees with his feet before wrapping his arms and legs around me. As I ask him in mock horor "what are you doing, you'll get me all wet?", he says laughing, "I'm just giving you a hug". Hugs are never refused in our house. Consequently he semi-soaks me, but every time he does it I can't help laughing. It shouldn't be funny by now but the joy of his laughter and of that big hug are still funny to both of us.

Lucy likes to help. This includes helping me shave with my electric shaver, making a cup of tea, buttering toast and carrying a very heavy bag of fish and chips all the way to the car last Friday, telling me sternly "My do it!" every time I tried to help even a little.

Oliver seems to be looking forward to his third session at his new nursery tomorrow which includes taking a packed lunch.

Hayley is loving watching the concluding episode of "Waking The Dead" on telly tonight.

Seeing me sitting next to Oliver this evening on the sofa, Lucy was not content until she had first positioned herself on the other side and then on my lap, facing away from me. She then played a game which first involved lying back on my shoulder so her hair and face were next to mine, before rolling off me onto the sofa when I tickled her. This game was repeated for some time.

Oliver loves a back-scratch.

Lucy loves drinking (very diluted) tea.

I can go to bed tonight grateful for a happy, healthy family, tucked up safely in our own home.

BBC NEWS | UK | Young 'should not touch animals'

2009-09-21T12:54:00.000+01:00

BBC NEWS | UK | Young 'should not touch animals'

I think the advice to wash hands is crucial here. Both kids went to a birthday patry at an animnal petting farm a few weeks ago, but built in to the afternoon agenda was the children washing their hands before eating and after they had been touring the farm.

Long-distance Dad?

2009-09-17T21:22:00.000+01:00

In life we make choices (if we are lucky enough to be able to do so). I choose to work near my home. I do so because I want to be able to come home and see my family at the end of each day (and sometimes the start too). With my current home and job I can even come home for lunch sometimes.

Not everybody makes this choice. I have a colleague who chooses to work hundreds of miles from his home because he can earn a higher rate of pay (as a contractor). The down side is that his 3 year old son cries his heart out on Sunday when his father has to leave and continues to cry "for hours" after he has left. His son even panics when his father goes to the shop, for fear he will not come back.

So why does he do this to his son? He does it because he wants to get a private education for him. He figures that the lack of his father in his current day-to-day life will be compensated for by the benefit of a private education later.

Is he right?

I don't know with certainty, but clearly my strong instinct, backed up by some reading of research literature, is that the better choice is to give my kids the gift of time now rather than spend more on their education later. Certainly I have lots of anecdotal evidence, even from within my own company, that fathers who choose to work away from their families when their children are young, often later regret this decision.

Perhaps a hidden downside of being away from your kids is that you lose touch with the realities of who they are and where they are in their development. I heard my contractor colleague say that his daughter, who is one year old, wouldn't care whether he is there or not. My own experience would suggest that this is unlikely to be true. I suspect he might be underestimating his daughter's ability to have her own preferences, including that of deciding who is most important to her. Perhaps he would see that more if he was at home more often.

I'm not saying that as a criticism, just my opnion and not a firm one at that. I'm genuinely interested to know how important other parents think it is to see their kids through the week on a daily (or near daily) basis.

New nursery - Day 2

2009-09-16T21:41:00.004+01:00

I took the little man to his second day at his new nursery today. As the time approached for me to take him, we discovered we didn't have enough car seats for me to take him to nursery and for Hayley to do her school runs. So I took him on his bike. It's not an ideal place for him to get to on his bike, as some of the pavements are a little on the narrow side for my liking. But I shepherded him along the way and there were plenty of lollipop men along the way to help us cross the roads. And of course I was proud of him for riding to nursery.

Oliver and I had already talked about me staying with him to play for a little while this morning and then leaving. And that's exactly how it panned out. Just like yesterday, after a short inspection of the astronaut characters he headed directly to the garden and onto a trike. His new friend Billie was there and he quickly started to play with him and a few others.

When he didn't re-appear from behind the trees on his trike to where I was chatting to Billie's Mum, I went to see whether the time had come for me to leave. When I mentioned to him I might go and that Mummy would be coming after snack-time he just said "OK Daddy" and started to run off to play. Wanting to say goodbye properly and to be sure he understood, I called him back for a kiss and said goodbye to him. Again, off he went without a care in the world. Result!

I found out later that they sang Happy Birthday to him at snack-time and let him choose a birthday present. He also got to give out cake to the children with another little girl whose birthday they also celebrated today. What a great start to his new nursery life.

As with his old nursery, some things don't change. Trying to get meaningful information out of him about his day is still as hard. Let's hope the staff can help us out a little on that score.

The ony down-side about today was that I had to walk home carrying his bike and was made more late when I discovered Hayley's car was dead. A very small price to pay for such a positive start to my day.

First day at new nursery

2009-09-15T19:25:00.004+01:00

Oliver ready to head off to nursery (once he puts his drink down).

Today Oliver started at his new nursery. We decided to change after a year at his previous nursery for a couple of reasons. Firstly it would give him a new environment and he wouldn't have to repeat the year he's just finished (enjoyable as it might have been). Secondly, this nursery always gets fantastic reviews from every parent we speak to as well as from Ofsted.

This morning's first "settling in" session was 2 hours long and a parent was obliged to stay. As Hayley was going to have Lucy plus two chilminding kids on her hands at the time he was to start, I jumped at the chance to go along with him.

He has been very upbeat about starting this new chapter and so we haven't made too big a deal of it. He will know a few children there but none of them very close friends with whom he often has playdates. But none of that seemed to bother him last night when I told him I was coming with him. He simply relpied, "But I'm a big boy Daddy, you can drop me off."

We walked there, just the two of us, and on arrival met his friend Harry who attends the same swimming lessons. I also pointed out a couple of other familiar faces.

Once inside he met one of his two teachers, found his name and hung up his bag. Then after a few minutes playing with some astronaut characters, he asked to go outside. He knows this place because he used to go there with Hayley as it ran a child-minder drop-in last year. So he was well aware that outside it has a good sized garden into which they have built some mini-roads along which a variety of trikes and scooters are available to ride.

He played outside for a good hour, giving another boy a ride on one of the trikes with a rear seat and also playing on the climbing frame. There he also met his other teacher (who turned out to be the wife of a former colleague of mine).

I was given forms to fill in (so late in the session due to the number of people attending this morning that I had to take them away to bring back tomorrow) and Oliver sat down with his group for snack time. As he had been all morning, he remained chatty. To my surprise he chose milk as his drink rather than water (something he rarely does at home, so rarely in fact that I don't usually bother offering him milk any more) and also had a segment of orange (which didn't surprise me as he enjoyed that in Spain).

Another teacher, whom Oliver knows from his previous visits, also made a point of seeking him out, which was nice. (She also asked about the wedding which was thoughtful of her.)

After snack time there was time for him to play a little longer. He made a small drawing and stuck sellotape to it, taking it to show his teacher as we left. Both teachers and several parents commented on how he wasn't having any problems settling in, but for all the loud and excited fun he had today, I'm very aware that he knew I was around, even though I was mostly just chatting to other parents.

This evening he told Hayley he wanted to go back to his old nursery, which is understandable as his friends are there. He also told me that he wanted me to stay tomorrow when he goes again, which could be awkward as I haven't booked time off. In theory I can't afford to stay more than about 15 minutes, but if he's upset I will stay on as long as needed, as work are usually pretty understanding, not to mention I'll more than make up the hours and would be no use to my company worrying about my son. (At the end of the day I work to look after my family so it's a "no brainer", to use an expression they'd understand.)

Encouragingly though, at the park this afternoon he met the boy who sat next to him at snack-time this morning and then, despite not having even spoken to him this morning, played with him for the rest of the time in the park.

I hope and and am quietly optimistic that Oliver will settle into what seems a very good environment for him. He will be one of the oldest boys in his year when he goes to school, but despite that I think this extra year will be good for him. And just as importantly, I think he will enjoy it.

First swimming lesson

2009-09-13T21:13:00.000+01:00

A few days after enjoying his recent holiday where he spent lots of time in the sea and pool, we took Oliver for his first swimming lesson where neither Mummy nor Daddy were in the water. Instead we sat at poolside (very close in fact) along with Lucy and other parents.

Rather than have his usual arm bands they use three polystyrene hoops on each arm, allowing them to be taken away one by one over time I assume. Later Oliver told me they were rings from the fingers of a giant. Perhaps this ties in with his favourite water-based game while on holiday which involved me wading through waist deep water with Oliver on my back chasing a giant, only to deliberately trip up after a few paces, splashing us both into the water.

His first lesson was with two friends, Jack and Harry. Oliver has known Jack since they were both babies so he was completely comfortable about it. In fact, Harry got very upset at first so someone else gave him his lesson separately, leaving Jack and Oliver in a private lesson for two given by the owner herself. She did a great job and the boys both loved the lesson which involved lots of splashing, getting used to having their faces in the water, swimming after plastic toys and even swimming through a partially (in fact mostly) submerged hoop. Oh and at the end they had to jump in from the side: like that was going to be a problem!

I didn't go to today's (second) lesson, but Hayley assures me that Oliver had great fun again and at the end was the only one who would jump into the pool with no-one to catch him. What a little star.

Now and then

2009-09-11T22:30:00.000+01:00

Three years before our honeymoon in Sant Elm and two days after Oliver's first birthday, we took Oliver to the same location. This lead to many opportunities on the honeymoon to reflect on how our adorable baby has grown into a beautiful boy.

The last time we came to Sant Elm he was crawling around the apartment in nappies, pointing at things and saying "diss!". This time he was taking himself to the bathroom and saying "Go away please I need some privacy" if I tried to check on him.

Yes, he really is growing up fast.

So inevitably, I found myself revisiting old locations and reflecting on how he has grown. But of course it is not just Oliver. Our whole family has grown. Three years ago there was no Lucy (not even a bumpette).

Here are a few pictorial illustrations of my reflections.

At the airport

On the beach

In the sea

At the playground

Playing trains

On the bus

What can I say. They grow up so fast! But every now and then I do manage to stop and smell the roses. And man they smell good.