Thou shalt not gain weight

I don't know whether "they" say you're never too young too get active, but I certainly do. 

I therefore recently invested in Nickelodeon Fit as a means of starting Jamie and Charlotte off as I hope they'll intend to continue.

And yesterday it made its debut in our house. 

According to the bumf, Nickelodeon Fit "provides young children with fun, developmentally appropriate 'moderate' to 'vigorous' physical activities."

In practice, what this amounts to is 30 individual games ranging from pretend bike riding to pretend boat rowing to pretend ball throwing, with lots of variations along the way.

And as well as the Wii Remote, participants also get to use the famed Wii Balance Board (if their parents have one) which will be familiar to all Wii Fit loving folk (normally girlies) up and down the country. 

Yesterday was a little too early to force Charlotte to get involved, but Jamie was made to sweat for a good hour and a half - and earn his bath for once.  He also seemed to have a lot of fun (something of a bonus).

So, all in all, I'm very pleased with my purchase.

And it was much cheaper than two mini rubber suits and a treadmill.

A flash with a pan

I've been attacked by the Sinusitis Monster again over the last 48 hours, hence no updates.

However, my painful condition is nothing a nose break and a couple of black eyes won't sort (according to my GP). So I'm off to see the consultant in Leeds next month, after which he will inflict said damage. 

And to think, this time last week 2012 held such promise.  

But I might be getting off lightly, as yesterday we had a little bit of drama at Jamie's nursery.

Vanessa picked him up as normal but, before departure, was asked by one of the nice ladies if she had time for a quick word.  It was to report a crime

One of the other detainees had called Jamie a bad name.

And the response of Master White? 

Yep, he whacked the offender over the head with a plastic frying pan. 

Thankfully no physical damage was caused - so no lawsuits should hopefully be forthcoming.

But was it right for me to feel proud of my boy?  I say yes, but perhaps it's best not to tell him (or his nursery).

Crawling from the nest

With Vanessa back at work, another landmark moment was reached in our house this morning when Charlotte joined Jamie at nursery for the first time proper.

Between now and September, the two of them will be there two and a half days a week.

And then Jamie starts school.

Bloody hell.

Somewhat predictably, Charlotte didn't have the happiest of days in her new surroundings.  But (according to those who know) it normally takes 3-4 weeks for the youngest new inmates to settle in.  So she'll be alright.

However, our little boy and little girl are really growing up.

And only parents with the hardest of hearts could have anything other than mixed views about that.

Gnome sweet gnome

In the rare absence of Wee John over Christmas and the New Year, yesterday Jamie insisted that some other little men come to live with us instead - and instructed me to buy some gnomes.

Sadly I had no luck at Poundstretcher in Guiseley (the lady advised that this wasn't the gnoming season), but Poundland in Keighley did come through for me at lunchtime today. 

Master White seemed pleased when he met his new playmates a few minutes ago and immediately asked for the honour of naming them.

So, ladies and gentlemen, from left to right, please meet Paul and Sebastian.

We hope they enjoy their stay.

Back to the future

This is my least favourite day in the year.

After the excitement and expectation of the festive season just gone, the prospect of returning to "normality" is one that has traditionally caused me more mental anguish than it really should.  

Vanessa, meanwhile, has always been much better equipped at dealing with these things and, as you can see above, she didn't allow the actual arrival of 2012 spoil her New Year's Eve. 

However, this year she could be forgiven for feeling just a little more sorry for herself than most as our "alarm" (i.e. Jamie) went off at 6am.  

Because, after 13 months of maternity leave, Mrs W is heading back to work. 

And that has got to hurt.  (Tee hee!)

Down with the beer and out with the year

New Year's Eve in our house hasn't quite panned out as envisaged, but the nice food and champagne (...and Guinness and lager and wine and...) are in the fridge, Jamie and Charlotte's Auntie Vicky is on her way and we fully intend to have an evening to partially remember.

Having had some unexpected time to kill earlier, Vanessa and I decided to do what we do best.

That's right, humiliate our children. 

Do you reckon Jamie makes a good Woody from Toy Story?

What about Buzz Lightyear?

OK, my final offer. 

Charlotte as a snowgirl?

Whatever you're doing tonight, I hope it's great.

And HAPPY NEW YEAR to YOU!!!

Pull the other one

I got in tonight to hear that Barratts Priceless are to make more than 1,600 staff redundant after a buyer for the company could not be found. 

It's horrible news at a terrible time for those affected.

However, this morning I had a hint of why the firm is where it is.

I was in Barratts in Leeds and picked up a size 10 shoe which I quite fancied.  So I tried it on, had a shuffle around and asked the nice man at the till if I could try on both together.

He disappeared off for a couple of minutes before returning, looking a touch embarrassed, with remarkable news.

"I'm afraid we only have one size 10 shoe left, sir," he said, "although we do have a pairs in size 9 and size 11."

I do hope his day didn't get worse after I thanked him and left - empty-handed.

Robin Daddy

I've just got back from an afternoon at this year's Bradford pantomime, Robin Hood, featuring the now omnipresent Billy Pearce in the lead role.

And fair play to him and everyone else involved. 

The special effects were genuinely top drawer, the cast were hugely enthusiastic and the laughs were plentiful.

Bradford fully deserves its now well-established reputation as home to the best panto - year in, year out - in the North of England.

And the high point for Jamie?

The Lightsaber I was forced to buy him on the way in.

Kids.

A day of contrasting results

Yesterday, after more than six months of trying, I finally realised why our broadband was operating at carrier pigeon speed and managed to fix it.

Bully for me.

But did this wondrous achievement counterbalance the "disappointment" felt after I broke the garage door several hours earlier and had to cough up £125 to get an emergency man out to repair the damage?

Er, no, it didn't.

All's well that finally ends

Above you can see pictures of my mate Paul "Merv" Gaile and REM lead singer Michael Stipe. I can't say for sure which is which.

A few weeks ago and under the influence of the demon drink, Paul persuaded me to enter an "easy paced  Christmas fun run" called the Chevin Chase. It takes place every year on Boxing Day in and around Guiseley.

Unlike me but in common with his chilled-out partner Mandy, Paul - a proud Coleraine man - is a very accomplished distance runner and both of them have run the Chevin Chase in the past.

"You should do it this year," he enthused, "you'd love it!"

So I entered the race online and told him I'd look forward to seeing him and Mandy on the start line.

"Oh, we're not doing it - bugger that!" he said (or something similar).

The "easy paced  Christmas fun run" turned out to be a seven mile trek straight up into space and back, across muddy fields, dirt tracks, boulders and a tiny bit of tarmac.

And who did I meet at the top of the highest climb yesterday morning?  Yup, Paul and Mandy.  Wrapped up in their winter woollies, as warm as toast.

The good news is that I did get to the end, although my body is getting its own back in some style this morning.

The even better news is that, about two minutes after I arrived back home, Paul and Mandy pulled up outside after making a special trip to say well done.

And then the drink came out. 

 

 I like stories with a happy ending.

I trust you had a good day

Good morning all - and how's your head?

I can certainly recall feeling more sprightly than this and, at 11am, matters will take a serious turn for the worst.  However, more on that next time. 

First, Christmas Day at our house and a fine occasion it turned out to be.

I didn't undercook/overcook our turkey (crown) - which means it must have been nigh on perfect. 

Jamie and Charlotte got all they desired from Santa Claus. 

And they even had the chance to camp it up with their cousins later in the day. 

In many ways, it could be described as a Christmas classic.

It's Merry Christmas from them (and me)

As I write and according to Google Earth, Father Christmas is whizzing over Mount Everest en route to the UK.  All good (if you've been good).

We Whites have just returned from a somewhat bizarre mass nativity play at a local church in which everyone (i.e. you didn't have to be a child - there were two women in it almost as old as me) was invited turn up in costume and play whatever part they wished.

This obviously provided an ideal opportunity for Jamie to get a third and final wear out of his Wise Man outfit - so up on stage he went.

Not only that, he got to deliver his first ever line through a microphone when he informed the packed audience that he'd brought the baby Jesus some myrrh.  (He hadn't).

And, of course, Charlotte was there too although, as an elf, she didn't get to perform much.

This was in contrast to her cousin Holly (below centre) who was quite magnificent as an angel.

The kids are now having tea. After baths and the inevitable battle to get them into their scratchers, it will be time to wait for his nibs. 

In the meantime let me wish you and yours the very merriest of Christmases.

And genuine thanks for continuing to even occasionally read this rubbish.

UPDATE 1943

Magic stardust deposited in back garden...

...brandy, cake and carrot left by the chimney...

...it's over to you know who.

I apologise for any inconvenience caused

Over recent days, I've seen countless of those electronic Christmas "cards" that are now the rage.

The funniest one for me was from East Coast trains. But I don't think it was meant to be amusing.

My point is this: what would the chances be of an East Coast train running on such a snowy day? 

Methinks almost none.

Oh no, not him again!

Is it a bird?  Is it a plane?

Well, obviously not - it hasn't got wings.

No, it's a reindeer.  And not just any reindeer.

It's his reindeer.  

Tonight Santa was on his annual pre-Christmas visit to Guiseley.  It's organised by Guiseley Lions and local charities are the beneficiaries.

We Whites waited outside our house for as long as Jamie and Charlotte's patience would allow us (about five minutes) before going in search.

But thankfully Father C seemed happy to be found.

Only four sleeps to go.

As an aside, I mentioned last week that our fridge/freezer was so cold it had gone on strike.

Well, six days on, it suddenly decided that it quite likes Christmas too and wants to be part of the fun. 

Lazurus, it's good (and timely) to have you back.

The countdown to Christmas (and summer)

Despite today being the shortest day and the countdown to summer officially beginning tomorrow, I am starting to feel particularly Christmassy. 

Never more so than this morning when our milkman brought our first festive pintas.

I have questioned several times in recent months whether paying a bloke on a bike to bring our milk was really the best use of family resources when Morrisons is but a mere sprint away from our house.

But today, I feel happy with our choice and warm towards our milkman.  

That said, two other Christmas moments this year have made me smile even more. 

First was the news that three police cars and a police dog were scrambled to a hotel in Hartlepool - after a row broke out at the local plain clothes detectives Christmas party.

The second was when a man phoned in to a radio programme to relay a conversation he'd just had with his young son. It went like this:
 
"Daddy? I need to write another letter to Santa."
 
"Oh, why?"
 
"You know I asked him for a bike?"
 
"Yeessss..."
 
"Well, I don't need one any more."
 
"What do you mean you don't need one any more?!  Why don't you need one any more?!!!"
 
"Because I've just found one hidden behind the sofa." 

A big day for a little lady

Christmas might not be far away but, in our house, there was a very important landmark to celebrate first.  

That's right, Charlotte was born a year ago today.  I can hardly believe it.  

Party hats were purchased...

...guests were ferried in...

   

...a cake was baked...

...presents were bought (thank you to everyone for your kindness)...

...opened (with brotherly help)...

...and closely inspected.

And, d'you know, I think she had fun.

I hope she'll let me play with her again tomorrow.

T'is the season to be Santa

Yuletide kicked off good and proper in our house this morning, when Jamie and I followed a visit to see Arthur Christmas on the big screen with a brief hook-up with the main man himself. 

And, despite living in the North Pole, it appears Father Christmas grew up in West Yorkshire. 

I also got the impression he was looking forward to Christmas Day much more than anyone else, but perhaps for different reasons.

"Ey up, little boy," he growled to White Junior.

"This time next week I'll be back in t'Lapland and Christmas will all be over for another year.  Eeeee!!!"

Methinks he'll have had at least a crate of Christmas spirit by this time next week too. 

It's so cold, our ice cream has melted

I was a bit annoyed/downcast/bereft last night, and it was all because of our "big fridge." 

We have two fridges, see.  It's not because we're posh.  In fact, it's the opposite - it's because we can only get a small fridge into our kitchen.  And, upon moving to Guiseley, we put our old/big fridge into our garage.  

Still with me or just bored? Don't answer that.

Last night I paid a visit to our big fridge (pictured above). In fact, I'll be more specific.  I paid a visit to the freezer compartment of our big fridge.

I was after some ice cream - Bailey's Haagen Dazs, since you're asking - which, to my horror, I discovered had gone soft.  A bit of rummaging around soon revealed that everything else in there was also soft.

But how come? I checked the fridge part of our big fridge (i.e. the bit that isn't the freezer compartment) and the light was on.  So it wasn't a power issue. 

Nope, the freezer compartment was kaput and we'd have to buy a whole new big fridge. Just before Christmas. Great!

I even got my laptop out and began investigating what Argos had to offer at a reasonable price. (Answer: very little).

Then I had a thought. Would the fact that the temperature in our garage was around -1C have anything to do with it?  So I checked the user manual, which advised the following: "The fridge-freezer should not be located in a cold place such as an unheated garage, cellar, outhouse or cold kitchen."  Oh good. 

But I read on: "If you cannot avoid locating your fridge-freezer where low temperatures will prevail, you may need to set the thermostat dial to 4 or 5 during the winter months." 

It had actually been set at just below 3, so I knocked it up to 5. 

And tonight...our ice cream is still soft.   As soft as last night?  Hard to tell.  But, by this time tomorrow, we should know for sure what way this riveting tale is going to end.

What an exciting life I lead.

Very happy to show you mine

Jamie's nursery nativity has come and gone - and it was predictably hilarious. 

Unfortunately, I can't show you any of those on parade other than Wise Man #3 (R Jamie).

The reason is that, whilst pictures were allowed and I do have plenty, there were objections from parents last year when images of their little lambs (literally in some cases) appeared online. 

I have no such qualms, however.  

So, here's when Jamie's costume rode up at the front...

....and, later, at at back.

Oh, and Charlotte was there too.

Good night.

A Wee Wise White

Tomorrow night's delayed broadcast of the Royal Variety Performance (which was in Salford, meaning only Princess Anne could be arsed to turn up) should be our nation's stage highlight of the day. 

But it won't be.  Hell no.

Because also tomorrow, Jamie will take what I hope will be many bows after he's been a Wise Man in his nursery's nativity play. 

It will be the second of two performances, the first being today.  But I wasn't there so that doesn't count. 

Above you can see him in his full regalia during one of many dress rehearsals in our kitchen.  And I hope you agree he looks the part.

But can he play it?

All will be revealed at 4.30pm tomorrow - followed by a full review here. 

I trust you're as excited as I am (although, if you're not, I understand).