Tuesday, 30 September 2008
Monday, 29 September 2008
Sunday, 28 September 2008
Saturday, 27 September 2008
Friday, 26 September 2008
Thursday, 25 September 2008
Wednesday, 24 September 2008
Tuesday, 23 September 2008
Monday, 22 September 2008
Sunday, 21 September 2008
Friday, 12 September 2008
Thursday, 11 September 2008
Vanessa went off to a "candle party" tonight which she has since best described as "a modern day Tupperware party. With candles."
I was obviously very sad to miss that one.
My huge disappointment at not receiving an invite was initially lessened by the fact that Jamie and I would have the opportunity to hold our first ever boys' night in.
But, our evening now over, I would have to say that junior could've done better.
Whilst I appreciate the fact he's not yet on to solids, I thought he could at least have tried his steak.
He wasn't interested in the rules of poker. And, perhaps worst of all, didn't touch his whiskey.
Thank goodness the stripper didn't turn up.
Tomorrow, Daddy back at work, he can return to his mother's arms.
But I cannot help but think - opportunity wasted.
Wednesday, 10 September 2008
Now, clearly, I would not possibly suggest that motherhood is in any way easy (you probably haven’t met my wife) but, as the father of a six-week-old boy, I can at least agree with Homer’s assertion that fatherhood is far from being a walk in the park.
Prior to the birth of little Jamie, I was unsure about what exactly I could offer in my impending new role.
As the youngest child of three, I’d never previously spent much time around babies and so had little experience to draw on.
And, whilst I’d been given several books to read by family and friends – Pregnancy for Blokes being one that springs to mind – I hadn’t quite found the time to actually open them.
Given that this was our first baby and therefore expected to be perhaps a week or more late, I was sure that a slot would become available before the big moment.
It was therefore a matter of some regret when, two days before the due date, I was sitting in the delivery suite at the Leeds General Infirmary wondering what was going on before me and what in goodness name I could do to help.
But, as soon as Jamie showed his face at 8.49pm that Monday night, nature sort of took its course with me just as it had done with him.
Admittedly I did get off to something of a false start after being asked to hand him back to the midwife only two minutes after holding him for the first time following fears that I would faint and drop him.
But things got better. Early next morning, I was given responsibility for pushing him down for a precautionary scan and then an x-ray on his sore right shoulder. Thankfully all was fine and I only crashed once, a glancing blow off a set of double doors.
I changed my first nappy shortly afterwards, following up with three more before I was kicked out the hospital at the end of visiting time.
Since then, I’ve done the lot – bathed him, picked out his clothes, lugged him around the supermarket in a baby carrier (something I thought I’d never do), fed him expressed milk in bottles, got up with him in the night, talked to him, even sung to him.
Now, I appreciate that none of these activities are exactly radical and should be the norm for any self-respecting father.
But the reason for me telling you is simple: I have loved every single second of playing my part, of helping our little boy start out on his journey, of protecting him, of loving him, of being a dad.
So, like Homer, I won’t lie to you either. Fatherhood certainly isn’t easy, but it’s also a joy.
Tuesday, 9 September 2008
Regular readers of this rubbish might remember the little video clip I put up a couple of months ago which captured Jamie just a few minutes after he was born.
The other day, I used the video function on our camera to film him amusing himself - albeit with a bit of prompting from Mummy and Daddy - as he lay on top of our bed.
He's not doing a lot but, if you've got a minute spare, feel free to click on and see him in action.
Monday, 8 September 2008
Sunday, 7 September 2008
The race itself was fairly uneventful. Indeed, for me, the two most memorable moments came before the gun sounded.
First was seeing my old friend and fellow Coleraine man Paul Gaile in the warm-up area. Unlike me, Paul is actually a very good runner and completed this year's London Marathon in well under three hours - a superhuman feat in my book.
Second was in the toilet area where dozens of runners has scurried off to for a final "visit" in advance of the off. There were two queues, one for "Men" and one for "Unisex" which everyone sort of assumed meant women but who can say these days.
Saturday, 6 September 2008
Friday, 5 September 2008
Thursday, 4 September 2008
After my life-threatening leg problem was suddenly cured by miracle forces and therefore my last possible excuse for not running Sunday’s Leeds Half Marathon taken away, I needed a new watch.
The strap on my old one snapped a few weeks ago and, after going to see the man at the Kirkgate Centre in Bradford, was told that, unlike my serious leg disease, this problem was indeed terminal. This left me without a watch and you sort of need one to run things like half marathons so off to the shops I went at lunchtime today.
I do dither over these things but, having spent the guts of 40 minutes looking at the contents of one shop window, I marched inside to advise the shop assistant of my choice. She returned a couple of minutes later, holding my intended purchase, with a sheepish verging on embarrassed look on her face.
“I’m afraid this is a kiddie watch, sir,” she whispered. “Perhaps you might want to have a look at our gentlemen’s range.” I coughed a bit, smiled crookedly and rushed out the door in the direction of Argos.
15 minutes later I was £19.99 down but a watch up – and made it back to work before the end of my dinner hour. Even if the watch is a bit dull.