Apologies for the quality of the sound but, as with the majority of the multimedia used on this blog, it was recorded using my trusty mobile phone.
Archive for May, 2006
Ever since we heard that Kerry is pregnant again I’ve been worried. Not just about another year of sleepless nights or our impending bankruptcy, but about how Amy’s quality of life will change. We’ve always been very lucky in the amount of attention we’ve been able to give Amy. My working patterns and Kerry’s status as part time has enabled both of us to spend a lot of time with her. I don’t know of very many other fathers who see their children as much as I do; I only work four days a week, and even when I’m working I’m often at home during the morning to play with her as opposed to coming back just as she’s going to bed. When the baby arrives it is inevitable Amy is going to receive less time from us. Not only that but the new baby will never be able to receive the amount of attention that we were able to give its big sister.
Very few of my friends are only children, I myself have both a brother and a sister, so I know that Amy’s not going to grow up feeling cheated out of her rightful place as sole recipient of her parents love. Never the less its been bothering me, bothering me that is until this week when I had a sort of epiphany.
When Amy was born Kerry, being the gregarious soul that she is, struck up a friendship with the lady in the next bed on the maternity ward. Her name is Sam, and her son Cameron was born on the same day Amy was. Over the past two years Sam and Kerry have kept in touch, seeing each other around once every two weeks. It would be pretty fair to say that Amy and Cameron are best friends. Nothing can send Amy into squeals of delight more than the news that they are going to visit Cameron’s house, and we a reliably informed that this is the case for him as well. Last Wednesday both Kerry and I weren’t working and so we arranged to meet up with Sam and Cameron at the playgym. It was while I was watching them running around giggling and holding hands that I realised that a brother or sister is going to fill a pretty big hole in Amy’s life.
Sometimes Amy is lonely. Perhaps I need to clarify that: She is never actually alone; she’s always got an adult who cares deeply for her around, but never the less she has a longing to be with other kids. She goes to nursery twice a week and plays with her friends there. She sees Cameron regularly, along with various other friend’s children. She’s a sociable little girl and is always kind to others her age, if not a little bossy. And she adores babies. But when it comes down to it she spends most of her time in the company of grown ups.
In my limited experience children who are overexposed to adults become too precocious too quickly. They are those irritating seven year olds who talk to you as if you are their work colleague, trying to engage you in small talk while you just sit there and resist the urge to clip them round the ear. They take on the concerns of their parents and feel that sitting down in the mud and throwing worms at each other is somehow beneath them. No, that’s not for Amy. She needs a sibling who she can co-opt into grand schemes to persuade us to by chocolate biscuits from the supermarket, someone to concoct bizarre games that involve running to various points in the garden and standing on your head, someone to fall out with and demand her parents put up for adoption.
And the baby? The baby is going to be lucky because they are going to have that person right from the start.
My grand scheme to retire at the age of 35 has come one step closer to fruition today as Kerry has learned that she got the promotion she has been going for. She’s done this despite spending the last few days since the interview convincing herself and the rest of the world that she hadn’t got it.
It’s going to mean a few changes in the Hughes household, as if there weren’t enough changes on the cards already. Kerry’s going to have to increase her days from 3 to 4 days a week, and she’s also probably going to have to spend a night away from home every now and again. This means that our childcare arrangements are going to have to be fiddled with, but this shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’ve arranged to change my hours so that I’ll be working three thirteen and a half hour shifts a week rather than my current four nine and a half. This basically means I’ll be getting a full time wage but having four days off a week, which appeals to the lazy sod in me greatly. Nursery has made flexible noises also, so there may be a possibility of increasing her days there to three times a week.
I’m very proud of Kerry. Not only has she got a promotion; she has got the promotion at a time when she is probably at her least employable (being just about to go on 6 months maternity leave).
While getting out of my shower this morning I heard Amy yelling from downstairs.
“Holly, Bryn, time for hair cut”
Fortunatly the dogs have learned from experience not to go near her.
On another note, does anyone know why my blogger controls have suddenly switched from English to German?
I don’t usually do just links on this blog, but this is absolutely priceless. Make sure you watch the video too.
Congratulations to the following people who are all expecting a baby in October/November 2006.
Neil and Rachel
Nina and Darren
Sam and Nick
Liz and Martin
and of course us.
I do think we could have all got together and co-ordinated things a bit better though. Autumn is now going to be an expensive time with all those new baby presents to buy. Kerry and I will have to make a concerted effort to fall out with all these people before 1st birthdays start to roll around.
Today I’ve been inches away from walking up to a woman and informing her that if her child was the type of brat who has a tendency to push, kick and bite other children at the playgym she should get of her fat arse and supervise him rather than sit at a table gossiping with her friend. I didn’t do it of course, but I’m convinced the world would be a better place if I had done.
It amazes me how many parents just leave their toddlers to roam wild at the playgym. I’m often the only adult in the play area itself, and as such tend to have a nagging thought that I should be policing the place somehow. I also tend to attract a certain type of little girl or boy who keeps insisting I play with them and often find it quite difficult to get rid of them before their mother charges up and accuses me of paedophilia (ok, so I’m paranoid, but a man defiantly feels conspicuous and out of place at such places on a weekday). Today’s limpet was a three-year-old called Holly. We ended up in a weird triangle - I wanted to play with Amy, Amy wanted to play with Holly, and Holly wanted to play with me. Everyone was doing their level best to ignore their suitor whilst attempting to force their presence on their chosen playmate.
The stalemate was eventually broken when Holly went home. The rest of the afternoon was spent in an enjoyable game of “here comes the Tickle Monster”, with Amy and I taking turns to take the title role.
Its that time of year again. A glorious time when the whole of Europe rises up as one in order to celebrate our unity and creative vision. Oh yes, the Eurovision song contest is upon us.
Ever since leaving University (the first time) my friend Rob and I have made a tradition of meeting up and forcing ourselves to endure this unique form of light entertainment torture. Together we have sat through horrors such as the infamous Guildo Horn and our friendship has emerged the other side stronger; we are brothers in arms with a bond forged in the fire of ten years worth of musical train wrecks. The journey hasn’t been easy, and comrades have fallen by the wayside. But we shall never forget them; the names of Big Robby Goffe and Bryan will always ring in our hearts. This year looks like it will be particularly gruelling. Finland’s Lordi and our very own “Daz†Sampson look like they are going to be rather harrowing.
In order to share the pain we’ve decided to have a Eurovision party, or Eurofest as I like to call it. Unfortunately Kerry’s taking photos at a wedding that night, but myself, Rob, Anne, Paul and Becky have already signed up, and Craig and Dave are definite maybes. The fact that all these people have risen to the challenge means only one thing. I’m going to run out of chairs. Never-the-less, if anyone else fancies coming along they are more than welcome.
Over the years Rob and I have developed an ingenious scoring system by which to rate the various travesties flashing by on the TV screen. I regret that this is non negotiable, Rob and I have sweated blood in order to come up with a completely fair and balanced way of finding a deserving winner, and no newcomer is going to put their oar in and spoil its delicately calibrated perfection.
There are ten categories by which each country’s entrant is judged. Each category is assigned a maximum of ten points. These categories are totalled to produce a score out of 100. The entrant with the highest score receives our vital telephone vote which, lets face it, could swing the whole competition in their favour. The scoring is done as a group rather than individually and Rob is Grand Master of the Chart. The categories are as follows.
- Number of people on the stage
- Attractiveness
- Catchiness of the tune
- Use of Props
- Costume
- What the country did for us in WWII
- Choreography
- Ethnicness
- Freakshow factor
- Can Dan find the country on the map?
The party starts at 7:30 with a kick off at 8. Food will be provided, but bring your own booze. It is possible to sleep here, but it’ll be on the floor or the couch. Amy’s going to be with her grandparents at the same wedding that Kerry’s doing the photos for, and she’ll be sleeping out so noise wont be much of a problem.
Please come, I like to have the illusion that I have friends.
One of the highlights of our holiday for Amy, aside from having her grandparents at her beck and call, was the duck, robin, and moorhen that had virtual permanent residence in the patch of woodland behind our villa. These regulars were occasionally joined by special guest stars such as rabbits and squirrels. She took great joy in eating outside with the various fauna, particularly when she and the rabbit were eating apples at the same time. Apparently there were also deer roaming about but we never managed to see any.
Cars are banned in the village after the first day and so the only background noise was the singing of blackbirds and the occasional Tarzan call that signified the wave machine was about to start at the pool. All in all it was very peaceful and relaxed and probably as close to nature as a holiday park filled with around a thousand middle class holidaymakers can be.
During the day the weather was great, but on a couple of nights there were thunderstorms. As far as I can remember Amy hasn’t really encountered thunder since she was a small baby. She ended up sleeping in the double bed with me while Kerry slept in her room. After a particularly large thunderclap, she reached out her arm to me and repeated my earlier reassurances to me in a little scared voice “Don’t worry Daddy, the rain will wash it awayâ€.
We had a great time at Centerparcs. It was much better than last time we went - probably due to a combination of great weather, a swankier villa (executive no less), and the fact that Amy wasn’t suffering from the dreaded lurgy.
I’m a bit too tired today to give full justice to a write up so I’ll just post a few pictures for now.
Kerry and Amy take the land train to the toddler dance class. At this point I am frantically peddling behind on a bike with an empty trailer and no gears. My wife and daughter are sharing a joke about how steep the hills are.
Amy displays her future potential as a world renowned anatomist by taking a detailed closeup of her forehead for future study.
Amy assits her doddery old Grandad over the rope bridge.
Its amazing how narrow the english channel gets at points. If you look closely you can just make out France on the other side of the sea.
The swimming pool was a little disapointing.
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