Lydia's 1st Birthday

A child's 1st birthday is generally a pretty big milestone.

For the parents, it signifies the end of the first full year of being parents. A time to reflect on all the highs and lows they've been through together with their child since the birth. The screams, the laughs, the messy bits and the intriguing process of getting to know your child. A process which, although ultimately rewarding, can also be incredibly frustrating.

Lydia in her birthday
dress

It is only when I look back on the last 12 months of being a father that I truly appreciate the wonder of how quickly a child develops. The tiny, wriggly pink thing that the nurse placed in my arms on the 21st April last year somehow managed to learn how to eat solid food, roll over, sit up and crawl, not to mention smile, laugh, frown and cry in frustration, all by herself. It's amazing to think just how much a baby develops in their first year outside the womb, learning through copying his or her parents or simply by trying things out themselves.

For the child, it's just another day. At this age they do not understand the concept of birthdays or presents, or why people would suddenly fuss over them. They would wake up in the morning and expect to do whatever they would normally do - go to the park, play with their toys, make a mess with their lunch, and so on.

Unbeknownst to the child, the parents often have other ideas, and this was the case for Lydia.

Travelling with babies

For Easter this year we headed over to England to spend a long weekend with my family. It was fantastic - lots of fun and good food, and it was great to spend some quality time with the family I don't get to see very often.

Unfortunately, it also meant sitting on a plane for one-and-a-half hours each way with a restless, fidgeting baby.

My little globetrotter

This wasn't the first time Lydia had been on a plane. In fact, it was her fourth trip to England in less than a year. I first took her to England in June last year, when she was a tiny baby of just seven weeks. On the flight to England on that occasion, she slept for the entire journey. On the way back she was awake, but calmly laid on my lap without making a fuss.

Her second trip, for my brother James' wedding to Kelly (see this blog entry), was at the end of July 2011. By this time, she was three months old, and had obviously developed a lot since the June trip. Once again she stayed calm on both flights, although we had to work hard to keep her entertained by playing with her and reading her the in-flight easyJet magazine.

The world through Lydia's eyes: Waking Up

It's dark. Very dark.

They must have closed those metal things over the window again.

I can see pretty well though. Over the last few months, my eyes have adapted well to being in the dark. Wonder if that's down to all those carrots I've been eating?

[big stretch, cough, small burp]

Ok, quick status report: I'm in my bed, lying on my side. For some reason my head is at the wrong end of the bed, again. Who keeps moving me during the night? I'm tucked up warm in my sleeping bag. I'm hungry.

Right, let's have a look around-- AAARGH!! What the hell is that??!?

Living our dreams through our children

Recently I did some research on the Internet to find ways of encouraging a child's creative side, boosting their imagination and skills at the same time. I also looked for ways to help a child enjoy sports and being outdoors. My motives were to ensure Lydia's future could be whatever she wanted it to be, and that she wouldn't be stuck inside playing video games and watching TV while the world outside passed her by.

During my research I found countless articles about pushy parents, those who practically force their own children to do a ridiculous amount of activities outside of school, often to the extreme of depriving them of being a child. Examples of this include parents forcing their children to have insanely busy after school schedules, with ballet lessons, soccer practise, piano practise and various other musical or sporting lessons.

I read an article on the Psychology Today website (which you can read here) on this very subject. One parent in question wondered why her 9 year old son was complaining that he was tired all the time, despite the fact that she had set up a series of extracurricular activities for him that included "three team sports, church activities, scouts and ... piano lessons twice a week". When the psychologist mentioned that this might be the cause of his tiredness, she said she was simply giving her son all the opportunities that she never had when she was a child. This is probably very reasonable thinking, as we all want our children to enjoy their lives and have every opportunity available to them. However, this kind of thing has to be done in moderation.

Oh, to be a kid again...

It seems like such a long time since I was a kid. The carefree days where the only worry was what mischief to get up to next, in a busy schedule of constant playtime interrupted only by silly things like eating, sleeping and school.

Those were the days.

The world seen through the eyes of a child is a wondrous, magical place, until we get older and the daily grind dooms us to a life of monotony and responsibility. The end of every school day brought such happiness to our young selves, a delight in the possibility of playing with our latest toy, or making houses and forts out of boxes and bedsheets at home.

The older you get, the less interested you are in playing with traditional childrens toys. The action figures are replaced by computer games, the Barbie dolls replaced by makeup and the latest fashion. The world becomes less a place of wonder and more a place of opportunity mixed with fear. Exams at school, going to college or university, finding a job or starting a career, moving out and beginning to act like an adult. It's a big, scary place out there, once you finally fly solo from your parents' nest and attempt to stake a claim to your own little piece of the world.

We never appreciate how great it is to be young until we become adults. As kids, we long to grow up quickly because we want to do what the big people do. Teenagers want to be old enough to drive and gain their freedom, and also to legally buy alcohol, whilst learning more about the opposite sex (once you get past the "ewww, girls have cooties" phase, that is). We want to be older so we can do the things that we think are the best parts about being a grown up, without considering all the extra burden the adults carry on their shoulders. Everything from bills to taxes to buying food and clothes, all things that children don't have to think about.

Crawling, crawling, crawling

I finished work for the Christmas holidays on the 21st December. Aside from the upcoming festivities of Christmas itself, the 22nd December looked like being a day like any other. Until something unexpected happened...

On my first day off, I was sat on the carpet with my 8 month (and 1 day) old daughter Lydia, trying to get her to play with one of her many, many toys. Christelle was sitting on the sofa next to us, and we both watched as Lydia propped herself up on her hands and knees and did her familiar bobbing motion. She had been doing this for a couple of weeks now, but would always end up rolling onto her back (and then usually giving out a cry of frustration). She couldn't seem to master the coordination required to actually move herself forwards.

So, we sat and watched as she continued bobbing on her hands and knees, expecting her to get annoyed at any moment. What we didn't expect, however, was to see her suddenly crawl several steps forward and reach out to grab the Christmas tree. Christelle and I looked at each other in surprise, both unsure if what we had just witnessed had really happened.

We quickly congratulated Lydia and then tried to encourage her to do it again. To our continued amazement, she crawled again. Tears of joy and pride welled up in both our eyes. Our little girl had worked out how to move around, all by herself.

I wish it could be Christmas everyday...

Earlier in the year, we decided that we wanted Lydia's first Christmas to be at home, for her to wake up on Christmas morning with the Christmas tree and decorations everywhere, and open her presents in her own home. That's why we ended up having an early Christmas - or Mockmas - in England in early December (see "A Very Merry Mockmas").

We also invited Chris' parents (Nelly and Bernard), sister (Caroline) and her husband (Pascal), round for the day, mainly because I had decided to try my hand at cooking the traditional roast turkey dinner and wanted to share this with them. I had never cooked a turkey before, although I did watch my mum prepare and cook the giant turkey we had at Christmas in England in 2010 (see "So... What's New?").

Plans for the turkey dinner started earlier in the year, as I chose what I wanted to cook as part of the meal. I wanted it to be as traditional as possible, to show my Swiss family how we eat at Christmas in England, so I opted to accompany the turkey with roast potatoes and parsnips, stuffing, carrots and green beans, all smothered in a nice gravy. I would have cooked Brussel sprouts as well, but I wanted everyone to actually enjoy the meal so decided to leave these out.

A Very Merry Mockmas

As mentioned in my last post (Countdown to Mockmas), at the beginning of December we headed over to England to celebrate our Christmas before Christmas, affectionately named Mockmas. This meant taking Lydia on her third flight to my home land - what a little jetsetter!



How to get a baby through
the security checkpoint

Admittedly the flight over wasn't as easy as it could have been, as Lydia was not in a good mood. A squirming, whinging baby does not make for good company on a flight, even if it was only for an hour and a half.

Needless to say, it was quite a relief when we landed and got off the plane.

Lydia cheered up straight away, even managing a nice big smile for her Nan when she picked us up at the airport.

A day of shopping was on the cards for Chris and I during our first full day in England, getting those last-minute presents for the family ready in time for Mockmas.



Lydia with her
great aunt Ruby

 In the afternoon, Ruby and Jack - my mum's aunt and uncle and therefore Lydia's great great aunt and great great uncle - came over for tea. We don't get to see them often, although my brother James had invited them to his wedding in the summer, and it was great to see how happy she was while giving Lydia a cuddle.

We had arranged this get-together for a while, and we could tell Ruby was looking forward to it. When arranging a time for her to come round, my mum had said "come round any time from 3pm", to which Ruby had replied, "I'll be there AT 3pm!".

She also gave her a Christening bracelet, which is something Lydia will be able to keep as a souvenir throughout her life. Aaaaah... :)
 

Countdown to Mockmas

Most people (mainly children) look forward to Christmas with such eagerness and anticipation, longing for the big day to finally come. I'm no different. I love Christmas - the food, the colours, the decorations, and most of all spending time with family. However, at the moment I'm not counting down the days until Christmas. I'm counting the days until Mockmas.

Yes, you read that right - Mockmas.

"Mockmas" was a term coined by my brother Adam for our family Christmas this year, which is taking place on Sunday 4th December. The reason is that we can't all be there for the real Christmas Day, so we are having our own pre-Christmas Christmas to ensure we all share in the fun and festivities together.

This year is Lydia's first ever Christmas, so we really wanted her to wake up on Christmas Day (the real one) in her own home, with the tree and decorations all around. I know that she won't remember anything of her first Christmas, but it's a special moment for us. The first Christmas that we'll share together as a new family. I'll even attempt to cook a proper Christmas dinner for my in-laws, allowing Lydia to have a blended version as well.

Both my brothers will be visiting their in-laws on Christmas Day this year as well, so Mockmas is our opportunity to have our normal family Christmas, albeit a bit earlier than usual. I'm looking forward to Lydia's face when she sees the decorations and the Christmas tree, and then the fun of opening presents. Again, she probably won't realise what's going on around her, but we will enjoy it nonetheless.

I know my family is looking forward to it as well, and I'm happy that we will all get to share this moment together.

Just means that I need to sort out all the Mockmas presents before next weekend. I've already bought a few but not all, with some people harder to shop for than others... Fortunately, last minute Mockmas shopping shouldn't be too stressful as all the other shoppers still have a couple of shopping weekends to go until their big day, leaving me free to casually saunter around and pick up what I need (and possibly stop at Burger King and/or Subway if need be).

Ho ho ho!

When translations just don't work

Switzerland is a very multi-cultural country. Well, it would have to be, considering it has 4 official languages (German, French, Italian and Romansch).

The fact that there are so many official languages means that the vast majority of products sold in Swiss shops and supermarkets have names and descriptions in at least two different languages. Coming from the UK where all products are packaged with English descriptions, this can be both a shock and a source of amusement.

Sometimes I come across items in shops that I think look interesting, such as a sandwich in my local Coop supermarket. When I turn the packet over to see what's inside, I find that the ingredients list is written entirely in German. Scheisse - ich spreche keine Deutsch! This means I have to take a leap of faith and hope that the contents of my sandwich don't contain too many e-numbers or unmentionable animal parts.

On the plus side, some product packaging can be very entertaining, as sometimes the translations don't really work. This is particularly prelevent when it comes to the use of English words, or words that in the local language are perfectly acceptable but their English counterparts have an entirely different effect.

My favourites are shown below.

This is fairly innocuose, simply being the producer's way of showing that the type of carrots in the tin are baby carrots. The reason why I found this so funny was because I imagined someone asking "What's in the tin?", with the response being "It's carrots, baby!". Oh how I chuckled...