Weaner Weekend…

30 08 2012

No, this isn’t a blog about something pervy.

It’s about JJ and learning to eat.

You filthy person you.

Mind you I suppose you’d expect that from me.

We were down in Cornwall visiting Abi’s family and we decided that it was about time JJ tasted something other than milk.

It was food time!

My suggestion of Fish and Chips with an ice cream dessert was as helpful as ever and Abi decided on some fruit and veg.

Poor kid.

We’ve decided to try out baby-led weaning.

Basically, you put some food in front of them and get them used to picking up food, checking it out for themselves, having a gum about and so on.

I quite like the idea as they start putting everything they find in their mouth so why not ‘feed their curiosity’ anyway?

JJ has already started grabbing things to see what they taste like – toys, clothes, people’s arms and fingers etc.

So it was with great ceremony, we recorded for prosperity another first for JJ.

On the menu was cucumbers, bananas and peppers.

I’ll let JJ take over from here…





Weekly Photo Challenge: Urban…

29 08 2012

New York is an amazing city and probably quite a fitting subject for this week’s challenge.

It’s like a concrete take on a rain forest – buildings fighting with each other to steal the light from their neighbours, microbial life scurrying around in the shadows, an ever-changing landscape of old and new.

But something will always come along and try to destroy it…

Click on below to start a side-show.





JJ sleeping update…

28 08 2012

You may remember my previous blog about JJ’s latest sleeping problems.

Well after about 2 weeks he lured us into a false sense of security.

He seemingly returned back to normal, sleeping for 10 hours.

Hero.

The next night, he woke up again at times I only the night shift should be privy to.

Git.

I’m hoping there is light at the end of the tunnel because all this broken sleep is starting to take its toll.

But I suppose this is what you sign up for as soon as you bring a baby into the world.

Abi has since taken JJ to the doctors as he’s got some kind of skin complaint, which results in him scratching quite ferociously.

This could also be part of the problem.

When you help him with the scratching he’s like a dog when you scratch its ticklish spot.

His eyes look up to you trying to communicate “thank you Daddy, keep going.”

Fingers crossed things will improve soon as it’s heartbreaking when there is nothing you can immediately do to help, even with something as simple as an itch.

I’ll keep you posted…





I have a new chef…

24 08 2012

I really enjoy cooking.

There’s something about it that my OCD nature loves.

Following a recipe, precise weighing, chopping perfectly, neat piles of ingredients, assembling the dish, cleaning up as I go and everything just generally being in order.

All this meant that my wife was more than happy to let me get on with it and be head chef.

But since the arrival of JJ, all this has changed.

My wife has taken over as head chef.

When I get back from work I don’t get the opportunity to cook.

If I did,  it would mean JJ gets no Daddy time.

It would also mean that Wifey gets no ‘non-JJ’ time.

Both of those things being really important.

So as my skills languish, Abi seems to be absorbing them.

I’m not complaining by any stretch but I do miss it.





Weekly Photo Challenge: Merge…

23 08 2012

“Merge.”

That’s the photo challenge for the week and it took me a while to crack.

I went for the point in time when day merges into night…

For anyone interested, it’s a view out from Lanner Hill to Carn Brea in Cornwall.





And the moron crown goes to…

22 08 2012

I’ve done plenty of stupid things in my life, mostly to myself, yesterday’s blog being a case in point.

Sometimes these things are done deliberately, but mostly they prove to be (happy) accidents.

My crowning glory of all accidents happened one dark, dark day back in 2008 down in Cornwall.

We had a new baby on the scene on my wife’s side of the family, and being the clown that I am, I took it upon myself to entertain her.

Out of all the toys that she had, I chose a car window mobile.

You know the ones – attach them to the window with a sucker cup and they hang over the baby with flashing lights, things that move accompanied by annoying music.

Well, young Harriet, the baby in question seemed to be enjoying the toy and I did what surely all people would have done in that situation.

I used the sucker cup to attach it to my forehead.

At first everything was going well as it produced a smile (probably wind).

After a bit of trouble, I eventually detached it and tried another toy but it did not have the same effect.

So with great gusto I put it back on my forehead.

A little while later when the novelty wore off, I tried to get it off my forehead.

It didn’t budge.

Mild panic set in.

I called my loving wife in knowing that she’d help me out.

She just laughed at me saying something about looking like a magical unicorn.

After some further persuasion and a few expletives, she helped out…

…by yanking it off my forehead.

It flipping hurt.

Then after a look of absolute shock, she burst into laughter.

“OH MY GOD! EVERYONE COME THROUGH AND LOOK AT PAUL NOOOOOOOOOOOWWW!”

Now I really started to panic.

Abi’s parents, brother and sister-in-law shot through and immediately went into hysterics, all pointing at me.

The result?

Bow down before the King of the Morons.

Feel free to click on the image to get a larger version.

Not only was a horrific, perfectly circular bruise forming on my forehead, there was a large lump straight behind it.

From the side I looked like a rhino who’d lost his horn to poachers.

But of course the fun didn’t end there.

After dinner, that was interspersed with moments of silence before someone couldn’t help laughing at me, it dawned on me.

I had to go to work on Monday.

How could I turn up to work looking like that?

I considered make-up, baseball caps, feigning illness and a mask.

But in the end I decided all I could do was just go in and take the abuse I was bound to get.

The journey into work was interesting.

A lot of double takes, muffled laughter and general staring took place.

My team was not sympathetic.

I was paraded around the office like a freak fresh out of the circus.

A mate told me later that he could tell where I was in the office by listening out for laughter.

It was depressing to say the least.

After going through virtually every colour in the rainbow, it started to go after about two weeks.

Having tried to forget about this little episode, I went back to my old office where I was subject of much ridicule for a few catch up drinks a few months back.

On the notice board for the building was this lovely greeting.

We live and learn.

Just some of us need to learn more than others.





Burnt offerings…

21 08 2012

One my favourite all time ads is this one.

I can totally imagine JJ picking this up from me later on in life.

Sometimes there is no better word to utter or shout in certain situations.

“Bollocks” was perfect for my latest idiotic manoeuvre.

A couple of months back, I was trying to multi-task whilst cooking up a storm in the kitchen.

This culminated in me pulling a tray out of the oven at gas mark “Volcano Hot” and turning off the gas on the hob at the same time.

My arm was in the way.

Branded a moron.

It’s tricky to see it now but it’s just above my elbow, a faint straight line where the tray nicely sunk into my skin.

Bollocks.

But as we all know, bollocks come in pairs.

I pretty much repeated the same exercise just the other day, but thankfully I missed my right arm this time.

Phew.

That’s because I was using the other arm.

Burn baby, BURN.

Bollocks!

I’m a believer in balance – good and evil, positive and negative, Yin and Yang, Morecambe and Wise.

So here’s my attempt.

FAIL.

Hopefully I’ve learnt this time as the last thing I want are Sergeant’s stripes on my arms.

I’ll just add it to the rather long list of stupid accidents I’ve put myself through.

JJ, please learn from your Daddy.

Which reminds me, I’ll dig out a photo of what is probably the most moronic accident I’ve done to date.

Yup, burning my arms with hot trays comes nowhere near this one…