The importance of nuance

Noah, I want you to know that the world is awash with misunderstanding and misinterpretation. By the time you come to read this, I am fully sure that you will already know this to be a stone cold fact. You, unfortunately, will be intelligent and literate enough to know the truth in what I say here.

You can't move in the the news for vapid news stories that are sensationalised beyond any kind of recognition. You will see that the nation loses their minds when, say, there is a royal baby being born or a young pop star pees into a bucket, but any real news, any real issues that require some real thought don't generate any traction. Something real like the burial of hundreds of live women and children in a remote city in Iraq, people don't give a flying fuck about. Ignorance is everywhere.

We wrote a blog a couple of months ago about a leaflet we got through the post. It was about a very serious subject - the tragic deaths of babies by suffocation on nappy sacks - but it was badly put together. This dichotomy was funny to us so we wrote a blog about it. You can find it if you like.

Any fair-minded reading of this entry will see that we were finding humour in the ill-thought out, badly worded leaflet. At no point did we even begin to suggest that these tragedies are, themselves, inherently funny. Any proper reading of this will see that fact in its abundance.

Sadly, not everyone is capable of recognising this nuance, Noah. Just read the silly comments that people have written for the sad proof of the world we are living in.

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/middle-east/iraq-crisis-islamic-militants-buried-alive-yazidi-women-and-children-in-attack-that-killed-500-9659695.html

Lorry and Noah

We got you a shitty lorry from a second hand shop for 75p about a month ago. It is the best thing we have ever bought for you. You insisted on taking it on holiday. You took it everywhere. Here is the proof:

You and Dandand (and the rest of us) in Portugal

Grandma and Grandad came with us on this holiday to Portugal for us to thank them in a small way for all the babysitting they do for us; sometimes with very short notice indeed. We didn't get many pictures on the holiday. We spent most of the time relaxing in the sun (shade).

A natural phenomenon that will leave no reader unchanged

There are some aspects of nature that are simply breathtaking. Others are mind-boggling and awe-inspiring. Some are so rare that you feel you are part of something extraordinarily special just for having witnessed it.

What follows is one of those moments:

Just look at Dandand's legs! Have they ever before been viewed by human eyes?! We are by no means believers but what we see here is one of god's miracles!

And it's pretty cool that the butterfly landed on your head, Noah. Whatever.

The order of events is out the window

So, in a slightly earlier post, where we completely overstated your brush with death, we mentioned your first time in the pool in Portugal. Well here is the moment you first got in.

It comes not long after daddy first got in...

A beautiful picture. By Mummy.

This was where you, "nearly died of hypothermia."

More specifically, this was the view from our villa. On the top balcony, you spent a lot of time fizzing with excitement about the sea and the pool and the sound of the cicadas.It was funny watching you be so excited about something. We had obviously seen you excited before, but, for the first time, it seemed that you were excited about something less tangible than something like an ice-cream. It's difficult to explain, but you just wouldn't stop talking to yourself and saying all of the things you could see. When we were inside, you would come in an encourage anyone who would listen to hold your hand and walk around with you.

One of the things we were most excited about was the concept of having our own pool. You, too, were excited. This was a close up picture of the pool:

On the first day, you couldn't get in there fast enough. It was very cold, but after swimming around for a short time, our bodies adjusted to it and we warmed up. Not yours though. You remained excited but seemed to get colder and colder and colder until you finally said, through chattering teeth, "Want a towel, daddy."

We got you a towel and went inside. You continued to shiver and be goosebumpy.

We ate some food and put you in some clothes. Still you continued to shiver. I got your mummy to take you in the shower for a bit. After the shower, you continued to shiver and we continued to eat. I got fed up with you being cold and so ran you a hot bath.

By now, I was panicking like a madman. "Oh great," I said, "we've gone and given him hypothermia." I looked on Google and you were presenting with two of the many possible symptoms. I then read the line, "If you put them into a hot bath, you could cause their internal organs to shut down, which could be fatal."

Daddy shit himself. Overreacting to the extreme,

You were fine after the bath.

But we could not get you to voluntarily go into the pool again for the remainder of the holiday.

That was sad.

On the way to Portugal

A while ago, your mummy and daddy booked a holiday to Portugal. It was designed to be a nice break during the half term to enjoy some sun at the end of the summer. It was to be the third foreign country you were to set foot on. 

During this flight, you were certainly more aware than the flight to Germany but essentially you were nonplussed by the fact that we were in amongst the clouds and so on. You were so well behaved on the way there and on the way home despite being horribly tired on both occasions. You certainly enjoyed charming all of the people around you.

"Hiya man...Hiya lady" etc.

I love you

Since the filming of this video, you've begun using, "I love you," to get what you want out of any grown ups that happen to be in the room. It's too difficult to not be melted by it. 

And you know it.

Sleeping in the car, age nearly two

Daddy simply cannot take a picture

Your mummy takes the pictures. She is not a trained photographer in any way, by by golly does she have a good eye for a photo. Now, your daddy also likes to think he has an eye for a photo. The truth is, Noah, I just don't.

So a few weeks ago, when you were playing in the garden with Surenne (Grandad's spelling, apologies if it is wrong...) and Adelaide, I grabbed the camera and thought I would show everyone what I was made of. The opportunity for some fantastic shots was ripe. Three tremendously cute children all playing together? This is gold!

The following are some of the best photos I took.

They were all genuinely awful. Your mummy laughed when she went through them.

Much like a bear

On one of your walks with mummy, you did a poo in the woods. It's fine. You wear a nappy. You are a baby for christ sake! No one seems to have a problem with it, except for you.

Whenever you need to do a poo, you will wander away into another room and close the door. It seems you are just looking for peace. If that peace is interrupted, you either say, "Go away!" or simply, "No, no no!"

When you were in the woods with mummy, she knew what you were up to when you race on ahead and crouched down to, 'play with some leaves.'

You and Adelaide

The water experiment

We wanted to test (and laugh at) your co-ordination skills. So your mummy came up with a plan: get you to perform and otherwise simple task and then we could laugh at how bad you were at it.

It worked perfectly.

Listen to the instructions and watch how you were utterly incapable, despite your best efforts.

We really do love you, Noah. It doesn't always look that way to the untrained eye, but goddammit we do!

Some face-meltingly cute (or amusing) pictures

Learning the countries

In your room, above your cot, we have pasted a map of the world. It is the same map of the world that your mummy and I used to plan our trip before we went travelling so it is a very sentimental thing for us. Often, when we get you out of your cot, we will look at the map with you and talk to you about the countries. Recently, we've started telling you the names of the countries and getting you to point them out of the map. You are getting better and better. Today, we took this video and we were astounded!

You were in no way forced to pose for these pictures

When I'm at work, and your mummy is not, she often sends me pictures of you. These brighten up my day, I recently received some pictures of you posing on a tree, You had been for a nice walk down at Burbage Common and then you paused to rest your feet on a tree. 

Mummy had to go to great lengths to convince you not to cry. It was worth it. You look like a lovely little tree elf.

No, this is not another IS hostage photograph

Your wonderful little cousin, Adelaide, has developed a penchant for putting things on her head and running around. We saw an example of this with our own eyes at your grandma and grandad's house. Adelaide put a bag on her head and then proceeded to confidently storm about the room. No, she could not see out of the bag even a little bit. Being many months younger than you, Noah, we cannot begin to fathom how she can me so much more confident on her feet than you are.

You "run" like Raheem Stirling. All arms and legs.

Learning the guitar

You have been practising the guitar more and more. You seem to really like it. You just dive into singing twinkle twinkle little star and strumming madly on guitar, often toppling it over in the process. 

Here is the reason you love it so much: It is pissing loud.

"Feed the ducks?"

Feeding the ducks is a pastime you have done almost weekly for the past year or so. Your grandma and grandad take you up to Abbey park, get you an ice cream, show you the ruins, walk round the grass and feed acres of bread to the many ducks.

You love it so much.

So much so, that not long ago, you were being a little pain in the neck in your high chair and, although we were convinced you were hungry, you refused to eat any of the meals we put in front of you. We tried two different meals and then by the third meal of simply toast, you threw a paddy and started crying and stood up. Exasperated, we calmly asked you, "Noah, what? What on earth do you want?"

There was a short pause before your reply.

"Feed the ducks?" You said.

John Betjeman

Noah, this post has nothing whatsoever to do with you. Not really. Your mummy and I had convinced Dammar and Dandand to look after you a few Sundays ago so we could go on a bit of a jolly into London and watch a play. We are utterly drenched in culture, young man.

Anyway, despite being directly relevant to you now, it is something we want you to keep in mind for the future. When you get a chance to, come and look at this statue in St Pancras Station. It is a lovely depiction of John Betjeman, windswept, looking up at the magnificent roof of the building. 

A smarter, and more inclined mind that my own will be able to tell you the intricate details, but for now, what we gleaned was this: John Betjeman was born in St Pancras Station and raised by Thomas the Tank Engine's curmudgeonly friend, Gordon, 

Fascinating.