A postscript: the ferry back to the mainland from Bute

On the ferry, you were determined to charge round the whole ship, exploring. We really couldn't hold you in your seat. You started doing your 'charging crawl'. This is a crawl you do when nothing can stop you. You crawl at top speed and keep your head down low so you can't see where you are going.

Here is a picture of you, mummy and me:

The harbour:

Daddy teaching you how to win the jackpot:

You running rings round the ship with daddy following behind like a mug:

Water:

Rabbit and cat:

The head-charge crawl:

You at the service station staring at the fat man with the tiny head:

A poo and a jog up Scotland

You can't jog yet. But when you walk quickly after having done a poo, it certainly looks like a jog:

And you admiring the Scottish view:

And this is you not listening to a word your mummy and I say, just before the poo (above):

A Bute of a Christmas part 2: The McGees

And so it was to the McGees. You talk all the time on Facetime to your grandma and grandad and just the sound of the iPad ringing perks your ears up and makes you say, 'Gam-mar' so it was lovely to see grandma and grandad in the flesh. You generally behaved well and we all had such a lovely time. 

We went to a fancy pub for lunch on one of the days and there was no high chair available. This meant that we had to hold you whilst being fed. You don't much like being held in such a way. So what ended up happening was this: you charged round the whole pub, going from one person to the next, charming the pants off everyone you came into contact with. As soon as you got a smile from someone, you were off to the next person.

You met a little Scottish boy called Lucas. Lucas was your age but about thrice your size. You are not a small baby, it's just that he was Scottish and you are not. What you lacked in size, however, you made up for in brain power. You stood up to Lucas's shoulder and you were pointing and talking and laughing and chatting. Lucas stared blankly back at you and kept his mouth closed then closed his eyes until you went away.

Your grandad drove us round the island and you sat on my knee (illegally). Every part of the island was beautiful and even though you won't remember now, you turned to me and said, "Bleedin' christ, Daddy, this view is breathtaking," which it was.

The time quickly came for us to leave and before you knew it, we were waking you up to have a Burger King meal at a service station on the M1 at 9.30pm. There was a very fat man with a very small head tidying the tables. Then we were home. 

A Bute of a Christmas part 1: The Journey

After boxing day, we threw a thousand things into the car, filled it up with fuel, oil, water and sweets and began our journey up to the faraway land of Bute. With the journey being really quite an epic one, we decided to leave by 3.30am. The other reason we wanted to leave early was because the weather report sounded apocalyptic. There were nationwide wind and rain warnings in a week where thousand of boring northerners were crying on the news about some wet that got in their homes.

On our route, there were all kinds of warnings on the radio advising against travel unless it was essential, blah blah blah. We just turned the volume down and increased our speed.

Turns out the wind was pretty bad. There were all kinds of signs telling high sided vehicles to immediately stop and turn round or else they will explode or whatever. We even drove through a tree that was in the first lane.

Upon arrival at the ferry, we clumsily gathered all of our belongings from the car, went to travelex to get some Scottish money (Scotland was nearly independent in 2013, Noah, would you believe it?!), and got on the ferry.

You adored the ferry.

Noah and Happy

Noah doesn't understand that he is a baby. Happy doesn't understand that he is a cat. Happy doesn't understand that Noah is a baby. Noah doesn't understand that Happy is a cat. With all of these things in mind, it is hilarious to watch the two of them interact with each other. 

Noah, you blindly followed Happy round the house like an excited puppy (I suppose) but you didn't really know how to play with him properly. So I showed you. I found some ribbon and showed you that Happy loses his kitten mind wanting to chase the ribbon around. You understood right away. You played with Happy for about an hour, neither of you becoming exhausted. Either that or you both had enough stubborn pride to not want to show it.

Boxing day fun with uncle Alex, auntie Charisse, Adelaide and Snitch

So came boxing day. We had a lovely lie in in the morning and then loaded up the car before heading up to Stone in the north. Once again, we had a lovely time and ate lots of lovely food (once again, not cooked by us). You had some lovely gifts and had lots and lots of attention, which you loved. Your favourite part of the day, along with Adelaide, was being entertained by Snitch. This is one section of the entertainment that lasted for ages. You were screaming your words at Snitch and we got to hear Adelaide's beautiful laugh.

Thank you auntie Dawn and uncle Tom

Amongst Noah's favourite places on earth is the bath. If you know Noah, you probably know this already, You can't shut him up about the bath. Noah, you love the water. You love the bath; you love the swimming pool; you love the sink; you love puddles. Knowing this, your auntie Dawn and uncle Tom bought you some noisy dolphins. You love them.

Christmas day continued...

With our Christmas bags packed, we headed over to Grandma and Grandad's for dinner. We had an utterly huge feast and had lots and lots of fun. The fillet steak was the most tender meat on the planet. Grandad wasn't keen on his because it was a bit too pink so Grandma fed it to Tally. That dog eats better than most human beings. 

Despite the look on the faces of most people in the photographs, we all had a lovely time.

Daddy and uncle Oscar even wore Mankinis, thanks in no part to uncle Harvey being a relentless bully. 

Pictures do exist, but Daddy made uncle Harvey promise not to share them...

A new family member

For a while, your mummy and I have been thinking about getting a cat. We have been to the animal rescue place on more than one occasion, looking at the lonely dogs and the smelly cats. Every time we have come away empty handed. Our rational, pragmatic side always gets the better of us and, sadly, the baby comes first (you.) However, at Christmas time, the rules are different. You are currently one and are getting more and more curious about the world. Daddy thought you would be ready for a cat and so, bought one for Mummy (all of us, really.) 

We all love him very much; you probably more than all of us. On Christmas morning, you really did not know what to do with yourself, what with all the balloons, a monkey fort, chocolate and a cat. You spent all of your morning chasing him around, screaming. 

We tried to think of a name. Here is the shortlist:

Jack Bauer (probably shortened to Bauer)

President David Palmer (not shortened)

Dutch

We loved all three of these. For a day or two, he was called, 'Bauer'. 

Then we had a change of heart and called him HAPPY!

Here are some pictures of Happy as a little kitten (by the time you are reading this, he may be an old man if he's not been crushed by a car or died from a dog.)

Christmas Day 2013 part 1

There is so much to write about for Christmas day 2013, Noah. You simply wouldn't believe it. First of all, it might be worth explaining your gifts. To be honest, at this time in your life, your mummy and daddy are, shall we say: frugal. Put it this way, there was a more than half serious suggestion of wrapping up some of your current toys and presenting them to you on Christmas morning. "He won't know the bloody difference!" said Dad confidently, all the while, gauging Mum's reactions. There was another idea that we could buy you a high chair because you need one. In the end, we got you some cheap toys from BM bargains and a monkey tent thing from Argos then filled the living room with balloons on Christmas morning (these are by far your favourite things in the world, just ahead of chocolate and your parents.)

Your face was a picture. You spent all of your time screaming at the balloons, the cat and the tree.

The good thing is, we will be able to get away with creating these budget Christmases for a few years yet because you aren't making clear memories for ages. Winner!

This was first setting eyes on his £15 Argos monkey castle thing:

And this was shortly after, exploring all of his spoils within the castle walls:

Merry Christmas.

Noah no eyes

Noah, we your mummy and I wanted you to know about the time you lost your eyes. It was Christmas day 2013 and you were standing there like an alcoholic businessman: shirt and waistcoat from the waist up; naked from the waist down.

Then your eyes came out and we took this picture.

An editorial decision

We have decided that, for the sake of posterity and for Noah himself, we would begin to write the blogs to him. That is to say, future Noah. The idea is that one day, Noah takes over the upkeep of this blog, thereby moving from the second person into the first.

This is just for reference so you don't think we have lost the plot somewhere in Hinckley.

Merry Christmas.

Not a boy for the call centres

Considering phones don't really look like this any more, it is interesting that one day Noah just picked up the toy phone, put it to his ear and said, "Hawooooo". We tried our best to get footage of him doing it here but he soon gets sick and tired of being our performing monkey. Fair play.

Learning the colours

We can't begin to explain to you the incredible leaps Noah has been making in the past weeks. He is now walking more than he is crawling. Fair enough. But his language and understanding is remarkable, if we say so ourselves. As well as being able to mimic most simple words himself, Noah has a wonderful capacity to remember words and use them in their context. He pointed to the TV screen where Finding Nemo was playing and he said, 'Fishes,' without being prompted. He now says, 'Up', when he wants to be picked up. He always says, 'Thank you' when you hand him something. When getting him dressed, you put one of his hands in his sleeve, saying, 'One' and he replies saying, 'Twoooo'. When we walked into the doctors a couple of days ago, he screamed, "CHRISTMAS TREEEEEEE" whilst pointing at the tree by the entrance. 

For a thirteen month old boy, he is amazing. We just hope he doesn't peak too early.

Noah, if you are looking at this now as a full grown adult and you are having it read to you because you can't read yourself then you have peaked early and your mummy and I have made some mistakes along the way. Sorry about that.

Anyway, here are some pictures of you learning a couple of colours.

Daddy and Noah, discussing the universe

There isn't much to this picture but I like it. After getting home from work one day, Noah seemed to be having something of an existential crisis. Without even saying, "Hello," when I came in the door, Noah said, "Daddy, where does the sky stop?" I put down my bag and asked him to repeat the question; "Where does the stop, Daddy?" He looked distressed. 

"C'mon, Noah," I said, before swooping him up into my arms. 

As we walked down the garden, I explained some of the mysteries of the universe and the immensity of the sky. We talked about Carl Sagan's Pale Blue Dot and the Voyager mission. I pointed out that the sky is far more full of stars than we can see with our eyes now, but that the light from them still hasn't reached us so they are effectively invisible. I outlined the theoretical potential to be able to actually see the dawn of time if we had the equipment to look far enough out into space.

"So you could really see into the past, Daddy?" I nodded, still looking up, pointing to the invisible stars. "Wow!" came his reply before looking up himself.

Then came the click from the camera and this image was born.

Exhausting, relentless girl's boy

Next door, there is a lovely little girl called Hope. Hope is 3 years old. Noah loves Hope. When she came over just before Christmas to bring Noah his presents, Noah pursued her to the point of exhaustion. He obviously loved her being over and loved her playing with his toys and just being in the same room. Noah couldn't vocalise these thoughts, of course, so instead, he followed her round, grabbing her dressing gown and screaming babbly words whilst pointing at his toys.

This picture summed up the visit perfectly. Just look at the contrasting expressions on their faces.