Hey Albert,
Six months in and we're still not sick of you!!  Who knew??  You're such a permanent fixture around the house it's as if you've always been here, and in a way you have because I really feel that you're the baby we were meant to have so everything just fell into place when you popped your head out.  You have filled the Albert-shaped hole we had and everyone has just shoved up a bit to make room for you so well done you for fitting in so well!!  The novelty has still not entirely worn off and there is the occasional burst of glee when I talk to someone about "my son" and realise that I have one of those. 
I am now able to smugly offer my condolences to those people "unlucky" enough to only have daughters.  This is mainly based on the recent holiday we had in Turkey where Albert was the star of every restaurant we went to.  He was passed from pillar to post by waiters and customers alike.  As the food arrived, a random woman would appear, do the beckoning thing and whisk him off to another table nearby so we could get on with our meal.  So many dads would sidle up to me, confirm that he was indeed a boy and smile the smile that only people in the "I gotta boy" club would recognise.  For the record Molly, I do not subscribe to this notion at all!!
I have always tried to focus on the joyous aspects of parenthood in my updates but feel it appropriate to share some concerns about what is happening to people at the moment.  There is a lot of uncertainty around with people either losing their jobs or facing cuts in their pay.  The culture of fear that is a reality for many people can put immense strain on families and there is not much prospect of things getting better for the next few years.  If in the future you see me shuffling round the house at midday wearing only underpants you will know that I too have succumbed to the curse of the economic cuts.  I have just realised that I do not really possess any useful qualifications and my current job is unlikely to continue to pay the immense salary I enjoy now (I wish!!) for much longer.  We are being expected to work longer hours, take on more clients and work smarter for less money.  Eventually we will be swallowed up by some faceless corporation who are only concerned with making profit rather than caring for the clients.  It's the future kids, might as well get used to it!!
Sorry Albert, I realise that I'm hogging this blog in order to whinge when in truth I should be telling the world how wonderful you are.  I'm guessing by now though that most people will have gathered that we think you are the dog's knees, the cat's pyjamas and the ferret's waistcoat (I may have made the last one up).  After a hard, long day at work there really is nothing more magical than to walk through the door and see the smile on your face as you spot me.  It may be wind but I really don't care.  My heart melts along with the cares and concerns of the day as you babble random sounds at me.  All in all it's fair to say that I'm loving this parenting lark and I can't understand for the life of me why Cath and I didn't think of having a baby sooner!!

We really need to start getting your room ready so that we can establish a better routine for you.  This will involve stripping woodchip, skimming the walls and putting blackout curtains up to stop light getting through first thing in the morning.  Our next door neighbours keep telling us that they hardly ever hear any crying but that will soon change when there is only a couple of bricks width between them and the living embodiment of Edvard Munch's most famous work (lungs working perfectly, thanks for asking).  Let's hope they're still talking to us in a few months' time.

And so it's time to close this latest chapter.  Apologies if this update has not been the cheeriest but I feel it's important to capture what's going on at the moment so Albert can have an idea of the context of what was happening around him whilst he was learning to be a person.  I guess our job is to shield him from the crap we have to endure until our lottery numbers come up or he's old enough to realise that we're all just bumbling along trying to make sense of everything. He'll soon realise that I don't have all the answers but I will try to be as honest as I can and for everything else there's always Google.

Still fighting it

Hi Albert,

It's been a while since I wrote anything on your blog and I have to confess that I have become a little bit complacent in the last few weeks, what with you being so gorgeous and everything.  For the record my heart still leaps every time I see you and I swear that I sometimes forget the struggles and stresses that we had to go through in order to welcome you into our lives but then something happens to remind me and I'm transported back to those dark days before you were born.  I feel that I need to qualify this a bit as the darkness was as a result of us not being able to have a child of our own rather than being dissatisfied with what we already had together but now that you are here it feels as though you have always been part of the plan and your arrival has completed this chapter.  There may be more to be written in our story but for now everything seems to fit into place.
I hadn't planned to write anything tonight but an evening with friends, a bottle of wine and my Ipod have inspired me to add this piece.  My starting point was the Ben Folds song "Still Fighting It" which was written about his son.  There is a line in it which says "you're so much like me, I'm sorry" and this really resonated with me so much that I felt compelled to sit down at the computer and capture some thoughts.  I'll be amazed if I can actually sum up everything that this song has brought to the surface but for me it's a recognition of a father's love for his son and also an apology for all my flaws which you may well inherit.  Obviously I am hoping that you take only the best bits from your mum and dad and leave the rest behind.  It has been said that I can be a tad grumpy at times (hard to believe, I know!!) so I am very much hoping that this is one gene that skips a generation.  With luck we are conducting some kind of Hindu experiment and are working towards some kind of Nirvana where every generation strives to become wiser and better than the one before.
 I've spoken before about the heart's capacity to expand to embrace new arrivals and it has amazed me that this has been a seamless transition so far.  Albert started off as a blank piece of paper and we are gradually adding bits of information as we go along.  Our achievements seem to be  limited so far to getting him to smile, fart and fill his nappy but we hope for better days to come.  Every day is still a joy and each new development brings a sense of excitement to us.  I hope we never lose that feeling.

Finally, thoughts and good wishes go to our friends who are going through their own struggles at the moment.  Keep the faith and rest assured that we are rooting for you.

Nine and a half weeks

Albert and his air guitar!!

Nine weeks in and all is well with us.  Albert has gone from being a tiny, fragile (yet incredibly robust) Russian doll with long, skinny limbs to a chubby, healthy happy person.  He seems to be developing a personality and has a number of very funny (to us) quirks.  When he goes into his Moses basket to sleep he emits a number of squeaks and creaks and reminds us a bit of Clunk from Catch the Pigeon (for those of you not old enough to get that reference, look it up on Youtube, it's worth it!!).  He also raises his arms above his head whilst asleep and looks like he's riding a particularly large Harley Davidson.  I know we are biased but he is absolutely gorgeous and has been the welcome addition to our family that we never dared dream that we would be able to introduce to everybody.  The burps, sneezes and fizzy farts are still great sources of amusement to us and give everybody else carte blanche to follow suit and blame Albert.  Poor lad!

I hope we aren't boring people with our endless Facebook updates and conversations about him.  I know the novelty will wear off eventually so please just bear with us.  We are proud of all the children of the household and we include Steve the cat amongst this list, though both he and Molly can't understand why their flatulence doesn't produce the same level of congratulation that Albert receives. 

Our boy is growing at a rate of knots and is already nearly 12 lbs.  I find it absolutely amazing that from the tiniest speck, every single atom of growth is down to Cath.  I think that now is as good a time as any to shout from the rooftops about the amazing job she is doing and to acknowledge the incredible sacrifices that she has made in order for us to have a child together.  I honestly do not know if I would have been prepared to do all the things she has done for Team Wheen.  There have been operations, procedures, poking, scraping and an incredible loss of dignity at times that Cath has borne with incredible stoicism and a sense of humour.  My only noteworthy sacrifices have been a few (admittedly cringeworthy) walks of shame to produce samples and  even then I whinged  about the paucity of source material to work with during my brief period of confinement in order to perform (I blame NHS cuts).  She has pretty much given up alcohol apart from the very occasional small glass of bubbly wine and more amazingly has not knowingly ingested caffeine for some time now but thank goodness Starbucks do decaff lattes.  Lady Wheen, I salute you!!  Finally  you have been given the keys to the club you most wanted to join.  Firstly it was the pudding club and now you can proudly proclaim to anyone and everyone that YOU ARE A MUM.  You are so patient and kind with him and I know that he is going to grow up to be very lucky to have you in his life.  Perhaps I should have saved this small tribute until a more appropriate time (your first mother's day springs to mind) but I wanted to say it whilst the words are still fresh in my head. 

As usual we are making things up as we go along but we seem to be muddling through as a family.  There are still a number of firsts to be negotiated, from weaning to teething but we are taking things in our stride so far.  Albert had his first cold this week and was generally a bit under the weather.  He seems to have outgrown his first set of sleepsuits and is now wearing more pairs of trousers and t-shirts so consequently seems to have grown up a lot recently.  He seems to enjoy chatting to us and seems to reply in the appropriate places at times when we talk to him.  I've been explaining to him about the offside rule in football and have to admit he's struggling to see the difference between active and passive play.  Perhaps he isn't the genius we had him down for.  I'm trying to play him lots of what I consider to be good music seeing as Molly shows no signs of wishing to inherit my CD collection.  He's heard a couple of live bands (admittedly in utero) and I can't wait to start reading to him and present him with his own personal copy of The Princess Bride (available in all good bookstores folks). 

All in all we think we've decided to keep him.

He's not the Messiah... and won't use his Moses basket either!

And so it came to pass in the lowly city of Sheffield that our Lord and saviour was born. Well not quite but at times it has felt like this for us. The past nine months seem to have passed so incredibly slowly like filling up a bath with dripping water. From euphoria at seeing the blue line to almost complete despair when told by a very unsympathetic doctor that some early spotting could very well signal the end of the pregnancy we have experienced almost every single emotion until finally on 4th January 2011 our beautiful son was born.

I won't go into all the gory details and I guess in the grand scheme of things it was not the longest or most traumatic of labours but it was an incredibly intense time and I know for one of us it hurt like hell (clue, it wasn't me even though I had to skip a couple of meals) but as the scars heal and the edge of the memories start to gain that rose tinted glow I know that we can say that this is our greatest achievement together. Every time I look over at Albert I see a beautiful, vulnerable tiny soul with his hands outstretched to catch all the love that's flowing his way. We are so grateful for the way that our friends have supported us and helped to carry us along this very long, winding path. Their words of wisdom and faith in the karmic forces have given us the strength to keep going when a month in bed with the covers pulled over would have been a preferable option. From the bottom of our hearts I say a huge THANK YOU to all of you.

Now I feel like the recipient of an award giving a speech and I don't want to come across as being too cheesy but I would like to say a couple of thank you's and a huge apology just in case it's ever needed. Thanks to all our family for being on our side and supporting us in the way that true family do. They don't always say and do the right things but when the chips are down, by golly they swing into action!! Thanks to all the people who (possibly clouded by euphoria and alcohol) offered to babysit. We wrote every name down and will be taking you up on your kind offers in due course. Thanks for all the presents and cards. They mean so much and we (of the Royal variety) will be thanking people individually in due course. We also need to get round to organising the placenta party but can't decide whether to have a ceremonial burial or serve as canapes. All suggestions gratefully received.

Finally, the apology goes to Albert just in case his life turns out to be completely miserable due to being saddled with a crap name. Personally I think it suits him and I don't think he'll be alone when he gets to school age. Who knew when we were kids that George, Harry, Archie and Alfie would be popular? At least we didn't give him a surname (Mason, Harrison, Bailey et al).

Things are slowly starting to gain some order at home although I spend most of my nights in the spare room as Albert seems to prefer the bed to his Moses basket. I swear that as I trudge downstairs from the master bedroom I can see a hint of a smirk on his face as he gets his mummy all to himself yet again. Just bear in mind son that you may have won the battle for now but we shall win the war!

I am looking forward to being able to feed him once the milking machine is up and running and I am soon about to commit the ultimate act of cruelty as my father did to me many moons ago. No, gentle reader he will not be circumcised, it will be more painful and lingering than that. I am about to buy him a Sheffield Wednesday season ticket. Quick, call Esther Rantzen!! I may allow him a plan B team so he can know some happiness throughout his life but he shall suffer stoically as generations before him have done. It is my legacy to you Albert. Don't hate me.

Silent Night (hopefully)

So here we are on Christmas Eve. All is calm and all is indeed bright. We are officially four days away from our lives being turned completely upside down and yet we appear to be remarkably relaxed about the whole thing. Albert keeps reminding us that he's trapped in this twilight world with only a few layers of skin between him and the outside world. The kicks, punches and hiccups are getting stronger and I reckon that all things considered he'd like to be out now. I feel in some ways completely ready for the birth and yet I know that when the time comes I will suddenly remember all the jobs I was supposed to have done and start to panic again. Will I remember all the things I did with child number one to keep her alive or will I have to re-learn everything again? I want to be really relaxed and calm and then I remember the sheer weight of responsibility and wonder if I can do it all over again. Here's hoping!!

As Albert grows and the igloo gets larger, the blessed vessel is becoming more uncomfortable and struggles to find the right position to sleep in. As one side becomes numb her ladyship is forced to turn over in bed and inevitably comes face to face with her arch-nemesis The Sleep Thief. I reckon the creators of Doctor Who have missed a trick here because this creature is more fearsome than the Daleks or the Cybermen because The Sleep Thief actually climbs inside your head and will not let you rest UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. Mostly it emits this low level rythmical buzzing which starts off quietly and gets gradually louder but occasionally rises in decibels (especially during the Manflu season) and becomes very tiresome for the affected person. Luckily The Sleep Thief can be made to go away and create havoc elsewhere with a couple of magic commands and a strategic nudge so perhaps it is more annoying than evil.

I am on standby with the car primed and pointed in the general direction of the hospital. We have an alternative plan just in case it snows which involves the new sledge we bought a few months ago but we are hoping this will not be necessary. Equally I am hoping that this will not be an entirely dry Christmas for me (selfish bugger that I am). I may nip out of the house occasionally on a flimsy pretext and have a swig or two from the bottle of Jack Daniels that I hastily secreted in the garden shed a while ago. Either that or I shall have a long chat with Albert and plead with him not to make an appearance on Christmas Day. I'll regale him with stories from friends about how their Christmases and New Years have been blighted by being born on either of those days. It should be enough to threaten to call him Noel if he arrives tomorrow. I know, how ridiculous to saddle a child with a stupid name!!

So, our last Christmas as a threesome. The triangle is set to become a square. Will it be three onto one or two against two in important decisions like what programme to watch on TV? Match of the day or Soaps? One things for sure, our lives will never be the same again.

Lest I forget!!

In all the excitement of Albert's imminent arrival I just wanted to spend a bit of time talking about the person who may have become a little bit sidelined in the whole process. For those of you who don't know her, Molly is a force of nature. She is 50% of me and I obviously want to take all the credit for her fantastic, quirky, funny personality but I feel that this would be unfair. All I know is that I wouldn't be half the person I am today without her in my life.

I have made a few mistakes along the way as I'm sure most people have. I was given the opportunity to start again and I have Cath to thank for many things, which I will no doubt discuss in greater length in future episodes (I will, I promise) but the main thing that has kept me going throughout the past 13 years is Molly. I have so many examples of her making me laugh with the weird and wonderful way that she sees the world and all of you who have been lucky enough to meet her will testify to that. She has taken most things I have thrown at her in her stride (with a few notable wobbles) and still she radiates the unconditional love that all parents will recognise from their children that we may or may not deserve but hang onto in times of crisis.

In short I just want to say thanks to Molly for being in my life and I hope that we will be able to write a similar open letter to Albert (if we live long enough). I know enough about love to know that the heart expands to let others in, so Albert need have no fear on that score. He will be welcomed and given preferential status for a bit, given the nature of his introduction into our family but then he will have to earn his keep and entertain us as others have before him. We can't wait to meet you but feel it's important to acknowledge the people who have enabled us to welcome you with open hearts and arms.

Molly, stand up and take a bow!! Love you xx

Let me out!!!

Poor Albert! His home seems to be getting smaller by the day although from the outside it resembles a large igloo (sorry hun but it does). He seems to be spending most of his waking hours practicing the Hokey Cokey and we watch with a mixture of fascination and horror as we see movement. I am fully expecting one day to see the outline of a face emerging from the walls like some demented Korean horror movie.

We managed to get ourselves in a bit of a flap down at Mothercare last sunday. We made the mistake of looking at prams and car seats so we could pretend that we are organised when in fact we are completely clueless. There is a bewildering amount of choice and rational decisions go out of the window when faced with so much variety. Fortunately a lot of our friends have given up on the idea of having any more children so are donating their baby paraphernalia to us. When Albert arrives he will have (at last count) three Moses baskets to choose from. Another four and he can have a different one every night.

The ante natal classes begin and end this weekend. We have opted to get them over with in one fell swoop and just hope that the other one will be listening to everything being said and taking notes just like when we stop and ask for directions on long journeys (and believe me, this HAS been a long journey!!). We will also be casting our eyes around the room looking for PLU's (people like us) who we can make life-long friends with and share perineal massage tips with. We are slightly concerned that we will be the oldest couple in the room and that everyone will be looking to us for guidance and words of wisdom. FAT CHANCE!!

Tiredness seems to be creeping in with only a few weeks to go. It's absolutely exhausting plumping up the cushions for her ladyship as her confinement draws ever-closer. The sofa is getting a bit crowded and Steve the cat is certainly noticing the lack of room. He is used to ruling the roost and may soon find himself spending a lot more time sulking in the kitchen. He reacted badly to the brief introduction of a kitten last year so we are expecting him to be completely bald soon (he's highly strung and grooms himself to excess).

So, please wish us luck as we enter the last phase of waiting for the arrival of Albert. Last minute tips are welcome from all sources. The hot topics are which cigars to purchase and how to clean upholstery should the waters break whilst on a car journey. Finally, we are both dying to know precisely how one can successfully expel the equivalent of a watermelon from one's nether regions. HELP!!!!!!!!