2011 has been an exciting year for our family. Words were spoken and steps were taken for the first time, and our tiny baby became a little boy, with his own personality, attitude, sense of humour, and attitude (he has a lot of attitude, no idea where he gets it from). I'm looking forward to what's to come next.
Happy New Year to you each when it comes. Raise a glass to the ones you love, the ones you lost, and the ones still on their way. I'll see you in 2012.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Sunday, December 25, 2011
A Wonderful Christmas Time
It first began to feel like Christmas for me on December 12th. Nathan woke up that morning and toddled through to find the strangest of things. At first he seemed frightened, but as he slowly approached, I saw it was not fear, but awe, that I could see in his face. He stood in front of the tree for a good few minutes, looking the lights and baubles with a look of pure wonder and pointing and babbling so as to share his discovery with Mummy and Daddy.
Many of those that I know will be experiencing their first Christmas with their children this year, a special day for each new parent. The babies of course have no idea what is going on, it's only as the years pass that children can appreciate what is happening. With each passing year they themselves experience the magic of Christmas a little more, unaware that they are the source of that magic. That their excitement is the fuel for the mirth of their parents.
Nathan is still too young to fully appreciate what is going on, but he is enjoying the tree, the lights, the singing, and the shiny parcels very much. He even seems to to be quite taken with Santa Claus ("Santa! Oh oh oh!)" without really knowing the significance of the character. His smile and the way he bites his bottom lip with his top lip (just like his daddy) with shy excitement tells me that, though he may not know what is coming, he knows something is coming, and that he can't wait until it gets here.
I hope you each have a great Christmas. I hope that you are spoiled, that you eat too much and that you drink and be merry. But mostly I wish that each and every child has a wonderful Christmas, and that in experiencing that wonder they fill our hearts with joy for one perfect day.
Merry Christmas everyone, have a wonderful time.
Many of those that I know will be experiencing their first Christmas with their children this year, a special day for each new parent. The babies of course have no idea what is going on, it's only as the years pass that children can appreciate what is happening. With each passing year they themselves experience the magic of Christmas a little more, unaware that they are the source of that magic. That their excitement is the fuel for the mirth of their parents.
Nathan is still too young to fully appreciate what is going on, but he is enjoying the tree, the lights, the singing, and the shiny parcels very much. He even seems to to be quite taken with Santa Claus ("Santa! Oh oh oh!)" without really knowing the significance of the character. His smile and the way he bites his bottom lip with his top lip (just like his daddy) with shy excitement tells me that, though he may not know what is coming, he knows something is coming, and that he can't wait until it gets here.
I hope you each have a great Christmas. I hope that you are spoiled, that you eat too much and that you drink and be merry. But mostly I wish that each and every child has a wonderful Christmas, and that in experiencing that wonder they fill our hearts with joy for one perfect day.
Merry Christmas everyone, have a wonderful time.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Sleep
I lay in bed
I sit and read
cats curl up around my feet
I think of things
then nothing at all
eyes open
eyes close
no darkness will fall
My stare has no focus
an aimless blank glare
endlessly searching
for what is not there
Where are you?
come back!
taunt me no more!
I want you
I need you
without you I'll fall.
Fall!
What a joke!
I'd dive if I could!
I know you will come soon
I'll know you'll return
but the morning will banish you
and I'll have to run
In daylight you'll chase me
thieve all my time
then when night returns
you'll be nowhere to find.
I sit and read
cats curl up around my feet
I think of things
then nothing at all
eyes open
eyes close
no darkness will fall
My stare has no focus
an aimless blank glare
endlessly searching
for what is not there
Where are you?
come back!
taunt me no more!
I want you
I need you
without you I'll fall.
Fall!
What a joke!
I'd dive if I could!
I know you will come soon
I'll know you'll return
but the morning will banish you
and I'll have to run
In daylight you'll chase me
thieve all my time
then when night returns
you'll be nowhere to find.
Friday, December 02, 2011
The Spoon
09:13AM
A spoon, wet with milk, flys briefly through the air before landing on my living-room carpet. The small specks of milk which land on the carpet could be easily wiped, so there was no point crying over it, but the milk was not the issue; the spoon was the issue. Specifically the fact that my 15 1/2 months old son threw the spoon (under protest that his breakfast had ended) was the issue. A few moments later I utter the words that would soon ruin the, so far, pleasant morning which Nathan and I had had.
"Pick the spoon up, Nathan."
I didn't shout the words, they were not spoken harshly, nor was I unduly firm in my request.
Nathan toddled over then and picked the spoon up, but no sooner were the words "Good boy." forming in mouth, than the spoon was thrown again.
There was no anger in the second throw, Nathan's post breakfast tantrums are always very brief, so no, this time there was only defiance in my boy's eyes. I know it was defiance because, although Nathan has his mothers eyes, his nature is more like my own. The shape and colour is all Michelle but the look behind them is all me.
09:34AM
Nathan howls in tears as I ask for the spoon every few minutes. Despite my original intent not to move from my seat I am now sitting on the carpet just in front of where the spoon landed. I pick Nathan up from the floor. I cuddle him, tell him I love him and hold him until he is calm. Once I am sure he is okay, I ask him to reach down from where we sit and give the spoon to daddy. The tears and howls start again.
09:46AM
I am a terrible father.
Despite regularly comforting Nathan he is getting more and more upset.
I've taken this too far. He's just a baby! How could I do this to my-
Nathan reaches out and touches the spoon.
Oh my God! I was right!
Nathan nudges the spoon and then his hand moves cautiously over the handle.
He's going to pick it up! I've taught him who's boss, that he has to listen to mum and dad! I am a wonderful father! I'm so proud, I'm... Why hasn't he picked up the spoon yet?
Nathan's out reached hand turns to a tiny fist which darts away from the spoon.
10:00AM
Nathan lies on the floor beside the spoon, occasionally poking at it, but never breaking his resolve not to pick it up. My head rests against the couch. I'm exhausted and Nathan is too. This is not about the spoon now. There is no spoon! We are locked in a battle of wills.
I don't want this. I'm just going to pick the spoon up... Unless... Maybe he'll trade it? I offer the trade: a dummy for the spoon. Nathan is tired now, he wants the dummy.
"Just reach over and give the spoon to daddy"
He does not break.
It all ended ten minutes later when my shopping was delivered. When the door chapped I silently cursed and picked up the spoon. I was beaten. I was beaten as soon as I offered the dummy for spoon trade, at that point, if Nathan had given me the spoon, he would not be doing what he was told, but rather, he would do it to get what he wanted. I'm not even certain he knows the concept of a trade.
I went too far. I know that. I was not a great dad today, but nor was I a terrible dad (I hope). My baby boy was very upset by what had happened, but perhaps he will think twice before throwing another spoon, or maybe not, I'm sure I will soon find out. I do know this though, should Nathan throw another spoon, fork, plate or cup I'll defiantly be trying a different tactic.
When all is said and done I was disappointed that Nathan did not do as I had told him, however, a part of me - maybe a little too big a part of me - is a little bit proud that he stood his ground. After all; that's my boy.
A spoon, wet with milk, flys briefly through the air before landing on my living-room carpet. The small specks of milk which land on the carpet could be easily wiped, so there was no point crying over it, but the milk was not the issue; the spoon was the issue. Specifically the fact that my 15 1/2 months old son threw the spoon (under protest that his breakfast had ended) was the issue. A few moments later I utter the words that would soon ruin the, so far, pleasant morning which Nathan and I had had.
"Pick the spoon up, Nathan."
I didn't shout the words, they were not spoken harshly, nor was I unduly firm in my request.
Nathan toddled over then and picked the spoon up, but no sooner were the words "Good boy." forming in mouth, than the spoon was thrown again.
There was no anger in the second throw, Nathan's post breakfast tantrums are always very brief, so no, this time there was only defiance in my boy's eyes. I know it was defiance because, although Nathan has his mothers eyes, his nature is more like my own. The shape and colour is all Michelle but the look behind them is all me.
09:34AM
Nathan howls in tears as I ask for the spoon every few minutes. Despite my original intent not to move from my seat I am now sitting on the carpet just in front of where the spoon landed. I pick Nathan up from the floor. I cuddle him, tell him I love him and hold him until he is calm. Once I am sure he is okay, I ask him to reach down from where we sit and give the spoon to daddy. The tears and howls start again.
09:46AM
I am a terrible father.
Despite regularly comforting Nathan he is getting more and more upset.
I've taken this too far. He's just a baby! How could I do this to my-
Nathan reaches out and touches the spoon.
Oh my God! I was right!
Nathan nudges the spoon and then his hand moves cautiously over the handle.
He's going to pick it up! I've taught him who's boss, that he has to listen to mum and dad! I am a wonderful father! I'm so proud, I'm... Why hasn't he picked up the spoon yet?
Nathan's out reached hand turns to a tiny fist which darts away from the spoon.
10:00AM
Nathan lies on the floor beside the spoon, occasionally poking at it, but never breaking his resolve not to pick it up. My head rests against the couch. I'm exhausted and Nathan is too. This is not about the spoon now. There is no spoon! We are locked in a battle of wills.
I don't want this. I'm just going to pick the spoon up... Unless... Maybe he'll trade it? I offer the trade: a dummy for the spoon. Nathan is tired now, he wants the dummy.
"Just reach over and give the spoon to daddy"
He does not break.
It all ended ten minutes later when my shopping was delivered. When the door chapped I silently cursed and picked up the spoon. I was beaten. I was beaten as soon as I offered the dummy for spoon trade, at that point, if Nathan had given me the spoon, he would not be doing what he was told, but rather, he would do it to get what he wanted. I'm not even certain he knows the concept of a trade.
I went too far. I know that. I was not a great dad today, but nor was I a terrible dad (I hope). My baby boy was very upset by what had happened, but perhaps he will think twice before throwing another spoon, or maybe not, I'm sure I will soon find out. I do know this though, should Nathan throw another spoon, fork, plate or cup I'll defiantly be trying a different tactic.
When all is said and done I was disappointed that Nathan did not do as I had told him, however, a part of me - maybe a little too big a part of me - is a little bit proud that he stood his ground. After all; that's my boy.
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