We're back!

Since your birth and the conception of this blog, there has not been such a long absence between posts. This is a sign of the times, perhaps.

Your mummy and I have been very busy indeed and unfortunately, the frequency of your blogs has suffered. It's not like we love you loads less. We don't. We probably near enough love you about the same as ever,

Of course.

With that said, we have made a new resolution to keep this this nicely updated.

So what's been going on?

Dead loads, actually.

At nursery, you are beginning to have 'taster days' upstairs in the 'toddler' section. This makes us very sad because there is now such a marked difference between you and what we'd consider a 'baby.' That means that you're growing up very quickly and we don't like it.

You're not growing up fast in a horrible genetic illness kind of way.

Not like Jack.

Jack grew up well fast.

An 'explosion of language'

We read that there comes a time in every child's development that there is an 'explosion of language.' We feel that we are currently witnessing this explosion.

It would be impossible for us to begin to calculate how many words you have in your vocabulary because you are surprising us every day. At least once a day, you say something that makes your Mummy and I look at each other, frown and ask, "Noah, how can you possibly know that?"

Every time we pick you up from nursery, all of the staff bang on about how much difference they can see in you after only a week. They always have a story about the things you have been saying and making everyone laugh.

You are constantly narrating your little world, whether there are people present or not. Sentences are becoming longer and longer and your words more and more complex.

You have quite a healthy collection of books, and when we read your favourites with you, we don't have to even read it aloud, as you seem to have memorised a lot of the lines!

We are fully aware that every single child goes through exactly the same thing at one time or another and we certainly aren't making any 'child genius' claims about you. There is just a bottomless pit of pride we have for you and we always want you to know that.

Our twee, photo studioey photoshoot

This was the resulting photograph taken at Reilly Studios in Hinckley by John. After Mummy had said specifically, "We don't want anything too...well...photo studioey." Then Daddy nodded and said, "Nothing too...you know...twee."

Needless to say, John took on board none of these comments and did his normal routine.

To be fair, there were some good shots. Despite taking nearly an hour to choose just one, we chose this one.

Your mummy doesn't like it any more, though. Not you, she thinks you look lovely. Not me either, she said I look great, It's her. Now, Noah. You are old enough now that you are reading this to reason like a normal human being. Can you please work out what is wrong with this picture of Mummy? Because I certainly can't.

And I won't say here the reasons why she doesn't like it...

Talking with Grandma

Talking on the phone with Grandad

We are always trying to explain to Grandma and Grandad how funny it is to watch you speaking on the phone. Well now we've filmed it so they can see for themselves. This is part 1.

Mummy makes Meerkat come to life

The funny thing about when Mummy brings Meerkat to life is that Daddy is just as spellbound and happy about it as you. 

You can't see here, but my face is filled with joy equal to yours.

We've not taught you a single guitar lesson. Swear down.

Even now, Noah, the term,"Swear down," is old fashioned. So god knows what it will sound like by the time you read this. Maybe you could bring it back.

Anyway, here you started playing guitar and singing some of your classic, favourite tracks. You sho such promise.

Mummy and Noah selfies (and one giant Daddy picture)

These are all spectacularly beautiful pictures of you and your Mummy. The only ruined picture is the top one with Daddy holding a tiny Fab lolly.

Or is Daddy just a giant?

Disco Diance

What you may not be able to tell about this video, Noah, is that you were completely and utterly exhausted here. Sure, you loved the music and you loved spinning round, but this was a day when you did not get your nap and you had been up from early. 

What you see here is not dancing. 

What you see here is delirium. Observe:

Problems with the number 4

A couple of hours ago, I was looking over Mummy's shoulder as she loaded the computer up. She opened Google and punched in: "My child won't count the number 4".

This wasn't a joke, Noah. She is genuinely worried. Frankly, so am I.

You seemed to master counting to ten really quite easily. This was ages and ages ago, seemingly.

Then one day, you just decided to stop using the number 4. You just say, "One...two...three...five...six etc." At first this was not a problem. But it's been a few months now and still no sign of the number four. No sign of it.

I pointed out to Mummy, "It's an important number, too!"

How many legs does a doggy have?

How many sides does a square have?

How many wheels are there on a car?

The list could go on and on and on.

With that said, it took about 40 minutes to think of those questions, so upon reflection, maybe it isn't that important. In fact, perhaps you are some sort of Will Hunting style mathematical genius and you are formulating a 'new maths' where the number four is not required. Time will tell.

(Although Robin Williams is dead so there won't be a maverick psychiatrist to tell you it's not your fault.)

Braggy park with Noah and Rodney

Today we went to Bradgate Park. Both your mummy and I loved it when you begged to be put down on the floor and then decided not to walk anywhere. We loved trying to convince you to stay on the path rather than wander onto the grass going in our opposite direction. But most of all, we loved your uncanny ability to stand in all the deer shit on the ground.

It was a genuinely lovely day.

It was the first time we all got to meet Rodney.

Washing up

This is your new favourite thing and we struggle to stop you from doing it. "Wash hands, Mummy! Wash hands, Mummy!"

We think it's adorable when you get water all over the fucking floor.

AWWWwwwww! Etc.

Noah's best friend

Every time you see Niall, you always seem to be utterly gravitated towards him. We don't know whether it's because he is a giant or what but you were fascinated. Always are. 

In mummy and daddy's bed

You don't sleep in our bed. Ever. The other night, in the early hours, you woke up and seemed distressed. We think you had had a bad dream so you came into our bed. Then, somehow, we managed to get you to sleep. You look lovely.

Memes

We made some memes. Here they are:

A grammatically correct boy

In a new school year, I have been decorating my classroom. It has this picture of you and next to it there is a speech bubble. Inside that speech bubble is an explanation of how to use a semi-colon in a piece of writing. 

You are an inspiration and a source of knowledge for my students already.

What a special boy.

Happy Birthday Bruxy

Happy birthday, uncle Bruxy! The big 3-0. When my daddy turned 30 he began eating more ice cream and complaining more about the world. I told him, "Cheer up Daddy. Think of it this way, in another 30 years, you'll be 60!"

That made him feel better.

Thank you for all the beer you let me drink at the BBQ. It was dead yummy.

Come round and see me soon.

Love from Noah.

World Orangutan Day

This month saw World Orangutan Day. At Twycross zoo they were giving free entry tickets to ginger people. Or if you dyed your hair ginger or wore a ginger wig, you also got in for free. 

At first, I thought, as everyone else did, that this was some sort of novelty and it's all very funny hahaha don't we have funny coloured hair etc etc.

Then I thought about it more.

I came to the conclusion that this phenomenon in our culture of everyone having a lighthearted dig at ginger people is the last bastion of legitimate racism we have in our society. Generally - indeed, arguably exclusively - racism and all racist remarks are considered off bounds, politically incorrect, unacceptable. Rightly. Our country has grown richly enough to unanimously agree that racism doesn't have a real place at the table of a progressive and modern society. 

Gingers are different. No, 'ginger' is not a race. However, having ginger hair is not a choice, it is something you simply are. This is an important distinction. It is important because, like your race, gingerness is not something you can simply choose to be or not to be. Not in any genuine sense of the word, anyway.

So the fact that it is still socially acceptable to have a cheap and easy laugh at someone who is ginger is, I would argue, tantamount to racism.

Saying this sounds flippant and silly. A great number of people would say 'you need to get a sense of humour,' or, 'It's just a joke, sheeeeeeesh!' But I think we are better than that. I'm talking about society here. As a society, I know we are better than that. 

We didn't take you to Twycross for free on that day Noah. We didn't.

That's not because we are principled. Holy shit, no. If it's free, we're there. We just didn't hear about it in time.

Auf Weidersehen

A couple of days ago now, we said auf weidersehen to Germany. Overall it was a very nice place. The food was great, the people were lovely and all round, it felt like everything was efficient.

Our flight home was delayed by a couple of hours, so we had to keep you entertained in the airport as you became more and more tired and less and less patient. It took a lot of energy on our part but we kept you appeased. On the flight itself, we had recorded an episode of In the Night Garden on the iPad which helped to keep you calm. Overall, you enjoyed charming everyone on the flight as best you could. You kept waving at people and saying, "Hello lady." This made ladies do big smiles at you, which you returned.

The landing of the plane was ropey, to say the least. We seemed to drop suddenly and land at a funny angle. The pilot then seemed to be fighting to keep the plane in a straight line once it had touched down. It isn't an overstatement to say that there were gasps and sharp intakes of breath all around the cabin as that happened.

You were oblivious.

Anyway, here are some pictures of our last day. Your suitcase is on wheels and we could pull you around. This caused two quite heavy falls for you whilst in the airport. You survived though. It's alright.

Oh how you love your ice cold, "Very hot," milk

Here is your honest assessment of your ice cold milk: