Oooooohhh, so close

A very brief post as I am innately drunk. A long day out was enjoyed with Luca today, culminating in his regular football training session.

New skills were taught to the younglings today, with much amusement as they proceeded to fall over in various Charlie Chaplin/Harold Lloyd esque poses as their still developing legs seemed unable to twist and bend in the necessary fashions to enable them to pull of the requisite moves. Luca did OK here, but can do so much more. His natural defeatist nature precludes him reaching anywhere near his current potential.

A full scale game was played at the sessions end as per usual and a surprisingly fit Luca (we'd already walked/ran several miles during various activities earlier in the day) showed greater physical dexterity than his peers, covering large swathes of the pitch as his teammates/opponents appeared rather more immobile. A surprisingly unselfish display was present as he constantly looked for teammates to pass to. Encouraging to see, as his peers appear unable to raise their heads sufficiently to spread play similarly.

His moment came in the games final seconds. A loose ball was played through and Luca reacted quickest to outpace the opposition to the spinning ball before knocking it in front of him seamlessly without breaking stride. That uniquely high elbowed sprint was witnessed as the defenders trailed in his wake, unable to keep stride. One more touch was taken as he approached the goal to switch the ball to his favoured left foot before BANG! His shot skimmed the outside of the opponents post. No goal, but so close. He should have hit the target, but no matter. He'd shown speed, willingness and dexterity to allow himself the opportunity. He knew it too as he spun around to catch my gaze and blew his cheeks out. A huge smile swept across his face.

Not only had he performed admirably, more importantly he'd enjoyed the experience greatly. Next up? His first official race. We've entered him an upcoming 600m run involving his comparable age group (5-7 years). With those little legs I suppose it's the equivalent of you or I competing in the 1500m. At that age you tend to run flat out or not at all, so it'll certainly be Interesting to see his coping strategies. I will, of course, record the races final 50m for posterity.

**Useless fact of the day - The first recorded running olympics were back in 776BCE**

Must. Find. Alcohol.

Sssshhhh. Two five year old boys slumber only yards away as Carole and I whisper and tiptoe around our own home, fearful that even the slightest floorboard creak will reignite the cacophony of evil yelps and hollers from their adjoining bedrooms.

Yes, Ethan is here to stay again. As before, his influence on Luca mirrors that of Nancy on Sid as the two ticking time bombs attempt to locate the mutual triggers within themselves. Luca literally shook with hysterical laughter as I attempted to coerce him toward the bathroom at bedtime. Ethan cackled while continuously (and purposely?) farting on me as I attempted to get his jammies on. Simultaneously I witnessed Carole's complexion continue its rapid journey toward exploding radish while the dogs concluded their search for any quiet corner of the house in which to hide from the chaos in.

For those few brief minutes our stone deaf wolf dog and incontinent pup sadly were the most intelligent and considered members of the household.

Quiet and calm has returned however, and I now lie here with a stomach full of cream egg ice cream (comfort food consumption) while Carole attempts her own calming method of soaking in a hot, deep bath.

Kids. Can't live without them. Can't sell them. Screwed either way.

It's been a relatively inconsequential week up until now. Same old, same old as work dominates (though not as prohibitively as before) and collides with the many other tasks and activities we have to balance it off against. As neither of our employers have yet been kind enough to offer us part time hours for the equivalent salary that currently finds residence in our accounts (though hope does spring eternal) this situation will remain constant.

Which brings us neatly to this weeks question. Is it reasonable to consider employing a cleaner, or is it an extravagance unbecoming of a working couple with responsibilities in the middle of a global recession? Please vote on the poll to the right.

I've written very little of Luca thus far, and with the time having now crept into the early hours of Monday morning I'm going to have to cut this short. Suffice to say he's continued his spelling obsession (very pleasing) but balanced it with a newfound awkwardness. He's clearly currently testing his boundaries which makes for an "interesting" time. His Mum is taking the brunt of it just now as he's been much more reticent to test his Dad (a fear thing I suspect following my "Stern Dad" act during Carole's recent trip South). Make sure you pass on your support for what may likely be a trial of OJ Simpson esque proportions over the coming few weeks.

Sometimes it's rather easy to understand why so many people buy cats rather than "create" children. Though I'd still rather play swingball with my own optics rather than own one of those evil beasts.

Obviously I'm discounting Liz and Toms cat who is just lovely. And Kellys old cat too. Lovely creatures, not at all the spawn of the devil.

And football? No more goals of late, though the change in the scale of games played at Luca's training lately has been a major cause. The games have adapted from their early small numbers and pitches to full hall games involving all competitors. All the boys have struggled and none seem capable of shining amid the stramash. Indeed the most recent yesterday ended 0-0. Luca has become quite disconsolate due to his lack of scoring opportunities, but he's at least not alone. The most talented kid there came off the pitch yesterday in tears of frustration. It's time for a chat with the coaches.

Enjoy the various videos below, a couple of which were taken yesterday after Luca's football training. I drove him down to the 5 a side pitches where I myself play and let him dribble and shoot unencumbered by the expectations of coaches and the attentions of competing children. Sometimes the fun aspect is too easily forgotten.

Oh, the picture of the bird? Taken in our local supermarket. We avoided the surrounding shelves littered with its droppings. Yum.

**Useless fact of the day - The only way to stop corn visibly appearing in your poop is to not eat corn**

The Young And The Restless

It is over. After 4 days and 9 hours (I wasn't counting.....) Carole returned home from Lincoln this evening. With this my tenure as sole curator of the highly combustible object that is Luca Stewart ended. And a weight greater than that atop Atlas' shoulders was removed.

With exaggeration as my byword, I may perhaps not be entirely serious. Indeed, despite the (many....) trials I rather enjoyed the time spent with him. I'd arranged to work half days last week with the intent to drop off and collect Luca from school and also allow me sufficient time to complete the necessary everyday household tasks. It transpires that work/life balance can be a tricky mistress.

Despite the trials we did manage. Interestingly Luca's behaviour varied somewhat from type however. In contrast to his norm he woke early every day, much to my chagrin - sleep became a rather precious commodity. "Is it morning time?" he queried every morning from the edge of my bed, before the birds outside had started tweeting, and even prior to the sun having begun its ascent over the mountain tops.

I always surrendered not long after however, "encouraged" out of bed by the presence of a 5 year old boy and Jack Russell dog having sneaked into Carole's side of the bed offering "quiet" reminders that breakfast would be quite appreciated.

Curiously few things better the school run in my eyes though. Collecting him from school was always highly rewarding, seeing him emerge from the doors of the school, his eyes darting round the playground in search of his Dad. The smile and sprint toward me once he'd located my whereabouts was just terrific. Sat in an office dealing with difficult situations or seeing that grin - the contrast was just enormous.

Picking him up at 3.30pm daily allowed great scope for activities. We went to the cinema, swimming, played football - anything that wore down that internal Duracell battery. We even cooked together, as I conducted culinary experiments in an attempt to widen his palette. The various grimaces across his face demonstrated his stubbornness, though to his credit he tried everything I cooked. Most interestingly was his lack of gastric knowledge. The gradual realisation that mince isn't actually made out of Earthworms being a particular highlight.

The lack of adult company was more of a trial than I imagined however, and I felt more than a little restless once he'd gone to sleep. His Uncle Ross did offer some respite on Friday evening however, albeit at a cost. Before his descent to the land of nod his Uncle introduced him to a video game called "Soul Caliber" (if I rightly recall its title) which was a 1 versus 1 fighting game. I think you can probably guess how tricky is was to settle a five year old down to sleep following such a visceral experience. An experience perhaps not to be repeated!

The weekend brought forth far greater time flexibility, which allowed us greater scope as well as a more relaxed pace. I'll try to detail below the following photo's:-

Taken today during our forest walk (Kirkhill Forest), here the short man rests on a stump, his legs having failed him after several miles of stumbling through the mud. Loving the experience, he was like a pig in sh*t. Life as a forest ranger could be a distinct possibility.

"This way, keep up old man"

Short of adding a knife holster to his leg, he couldn't look more "badass woodsman" here. Sort of.

The above taken on Saturday as we climbed Luca's favourite hill. He didn't tire. He never did. My legs feel like someone has injected concrete into them. Obviously, as you do.

Both pictures above were taken on Saturday, from Aberdeen beach. The only beach in the world where the polar bears insist on a nice chunky cardigan.

OK, we're veering badly from the standard chronology now. The above image was taken a week ago, as Luca endured a visit to Pittodrie with a hungover Dad to watch a distinctly underwhelming encounter between Aberdeen and St Johnstone. With 0-0 the final score, at least he defeated the featured enormous hot dog. Just look at the determination as he sternly eyes the weirdly textured meat product.

Way off kilter now, the picture above was taken as we (Dad, Ross et al) arrived early for the Partick Thistle V Dundee extravaganza at Firhill several weeks back. Another 0-0 draw, I clearly jinx any prospective entertainment for others when attending live fixtures.

Both the above taken on the same day several weeks ago. When exactly? I can't recall. Where exactly? Ditto. Why am I posting such unrepresentative images? Beats me.

A proper archive picture I stumbled across. Sometimes the desire to stop time and live in the day is overwhelming.

Christmas. A 5 year old (scratch that, he was still 4) contemplates the true religious meaning of Christmas and quietly contemplates those less fortunate than himself. Naturally.

**Useless fact of the day - The interior of the Sun is so vast it could hold over 1,300,000 Earths**

Never, ever again

Life is essentially ruled by a never ending series of foolhardy decisions. Boris Johnsons parents not using protection. The record company A&R man who signed Miley Cyrus. Suffragettes losing their lives, their freedom, for a future society unappreciative and barely aware of what they sacrificed and why.

But none more foolhardy than our decision to allow two of Luca's friends to sleep over last Saturday night.

In retrospect it seemed a feasible idea. Luca had never had friends over before, and as an only child we've always been very conscious of the need to keep him active and stimulated to ensure he never becomes lonely. Games, toys, activities, sport, reading, running, walking, play parks, zoos, cinemas, etc, etc are all hugely important aspects of his life, yet socialising with his peers outside of school/nursery has rarely played a part and consequently has always caused a little consternation.

Consternation shmonsternation. It was hell. His friends, Tyler and Ethan (Ethan is the unfamiliar sleeping figure above) are nice kids, but three 5 year olds surrounded by toys and computer games, fuelled by copious volumes of chocolate, juice and the exuberance of youth is a deadly combination. Naively we expected the trials to end at bedtime. They didn't. It transpires other children don't settle down to sleep as quickly as Luca. Who knew?

A late night and a fitful sleep later, we took mini Hitler, mini Satan and mini Pol Pot to the cinema for a morning screening of "The Muppets". Yes, they've made another Muppets film almost a generation after the last. I enjoyed it, as it was very obviously scripted with the intention of wooing the 30-something's for whom The Muppets were an integral part of their childhood. However, it wasn't quite child-centric enough for the boys who wriggled, giggled and fiddled throughout. Luca's review afterward was the most succinct - "I wanted to see Star Wars".

This week has brought a little respite from the short chap, as he spent a few days staying with Granny and Granda during the school holidays. As grateful as we were for the assist it was terrific to get him home on Wednesday. I picked him up from Banchory after work and ran him home, making a detour into the Chinese takeaway on route. As I turned my back to pay he disappeared through the back of the takeaway to the upstairs restaurant, the only evidence of his presence being the thunder of his hooves as he hurtled round the tables. He suddenly appeared again, leaping down a flight of stairs in a single bound before casually announcing "How cool am I?"

Very

**Useless fact of the day - Tigers not only have striped fur, they also have striped skin**

Caught

A Saturday morning like any other. The slow roll out of bed, toast with jam and a liberal amount of televisual entertainment apparently created with the specific intention of insulting your intelligence. And Luca with his hands down his shorts.




I'm typing this while wrapped in a blanket. I'm currently feeling very sorry for myself after having contracted a rather unpleasant bug. Being a natural grump at the best of times it'd be natural to assume I'm presently an utter royal pain in the ass. Gratifyingly my family are overlooking this and caring for me in the ways they know best. Carole is keeping me warm and feeding me endless tablets and potions to make me comfortable and relieve the ailments. And Luca? He arrived home from school last night and immediately came upstairs to see me. "Here" he said, reaching into his coat pocket and producing four fruit sweeties. His last four fruit sweeties. "These will make you better". I smiled as he gave me a hug, and fell back to sleep again.

Do you think those self same sweets were waiting for me when I awoke this morning? Do you want the Hollywood-esque answer? Or the truth?

With Carole having entered us both into an upcoming 5K run, last Sunday I decided it may be beneficial to check my bodies capabilities in advance. Having not run outdoors for several years (with the exception of playing football) I took a jog downtown, accompanied by Yoda. It was pretty comfortable, but the dog was a little unimpressed by the experience. 400 yards in she decided to have a mid-jog poo (that was fun, retracing my steps to collect little poo droplets), before spending the remainder of the run dragging behind me, her mini legs scratching on the asphalt beneath.

I'll take Isis next time. It'll be interesting to find out if she's willing and able. Our old mutt has been having issues with her stomach of late for which we've had her back and forth to the vet, but she also has one other rather more untreatable ailment - she's nearly stone deaf. She's a poor old brute.

Also upcoming is Carole's "boot camp", now only a couple of months away. It's a week long fitness camp in a hotel in idyllic Perthshire countryside, where she'll spend her days running around like a demented rabbit before spending the evenings eating like one. A husk of a woman shall likely return.

Another upcoming financial event is also imminent, a couple of months following the boot camp. Due to an entirely unexpected bonus from my work we've repaid much of the remaining outstanding loan on my car. Consequently I'm on the lookout for a new appealing model. Luca has made several recommendations so far, each following a similar theme - if it's big, he likes it. However, as 5 year olds perennially aren't the most knowledgable group within society with regard to automotive expertise I'd be most grateful if you voted on today's poll.

**Useless fact of the day - Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia is the fear of long words**

Will this work?

Following further "app" purchases (Apple really do have my credit card providers on speed dial) today's blog entry is the first created solely using my indomitable IPad. Any spelling/grammatical errors I shall blame solely on the software, and fully excuse the effects of the rather lukewarm beer currently coursing it's way through my system.




The most recent event of note, of course, is Luca's recent (and first) birthday party. Being my first attendance at such an event (his Mother has previously assumed the responsibility of attending those of his friends) I have to admit at suffering an initial alarm at the sheer volume and intensity of the occasion. I'd always imagined our son to be rather a handful of the hyperactive variety, but the other attendees matched and even bettered his natural exuberance, inevitably resulting in an occasion reminiscent to the battle scenes involving the Ewoks and Stormtroopers in "Return of the Jedi".




It wasn't all bad however. There was cake.




Few pictures today I'm afraid, but the above is a (rare) picture of Mother (clad in my "favourite" attire of a fleece. No matter how many I burn another swiftly appears in its place) and son, both resembling drunken Red Indians with varying paints strewn across their face. Such messiness is a common theme on my returns from work. Reason alone to retire early from work and begin anew with an alternative career in grifting.



Final picture of the evening? A sword duel between grandson and Granda. Who won? Judging by the number of "Gently Luca" and "Ow, watch my hand" I'd perhaps suggest that had this been times of yore then the youngest member of the Stewart family would have won the hand of fair maiden.

Less successful was Luca's most recent football training session, only hours ago. Following an initially successful transition to the elder age group, a firm step backwards was made today. Ironically, he was greatly adept during the skills section of training, showing admirable footwork, but the actual game provided greater disappointment than even the baffling continued success of Piers Morgan. He appeared disinterested and distracted, spending much of the game chatting with one of his teammates. Stern words were provided by Dad during the journey home, and the hope he at least tries a little bit next week most prominent in my mind.

Does the referral to "Dad" in the previous paragraph indicate I've been reduced to referring to myself in the 3rd person? An even remotely capable wordsmith shouldn't be reduced to such errs. What next, will "LOL's" begin appearing in text accredited to my name? Is this carelessness due to tiredness, drunkenness or simply the natural denouement of my current mental faculties? Im really not sure which I'd rather the answer be.

More important than such trivialities, however, is the upcoming hospital appointment for Mike. Although an actual date has yet to be given, it's been indicated that the appointment will occur within the next 2-3 weeks. The details of such I'd prefer not to list on what is technically a publicly available web page, but suffice to say we're grateful the doctors have noticed, and very much look forward to the successful (relatively minor, local anaesthetic) procedure.

**Useless fact of the day - The highest earning underground train driver in London earns in excess of £60,000.00 per annum**

Luca's football debut

Following long periods of inactivity it becomes a perennial battle to rouse the (small) part of you that isn't innately lazy. Therefore a very powerful reason was required for me to rise this blog from the ashes.

Luca's footballing debut was this reason.

With his 5th birthday still fresh in the memory (so fresh indeed his belated party is still over a week away) he and I attended his new football training class today. The new class covers the 5-7 age group, which naturally makes him one of the youngest attendees. "I can't wait to see the big boys" he has oft repeated to me this week. He was almost giddy during the drive there.

The exercises were obviously more advanced than his previous class. Despite my failure to remember to take a water bottle with us ("I'm so thirsty" he persistently whined) he hugely enjoyed the new activities, particularly the one in which he had the dribble the ball past Dad, stop, spin, nutmeg me (knock the ball through my legs for those of you strange non-football aficionado's) and regain it at the other side again.

But you're not reading this to learn about kids footballing drills. You want to hear about the glory!

The small scale (5-a-side) games began in the sessions latter half. Luca was noticeably nervous as he lined up alongside his teammates. Furtive glances were continually shot in my direction seeking reassurance. My smiles and encouragement clearly weren't needed however.

The game kicked off, and an obviously uncertain Luca began slowly, deferring to his teammates, clearly desperate not to make a mistake. However, as the game began to flow his confidence grew. His shoulders visibly relaxed and he began moving at a surprising pace.

BANG! The first goal of the game was scored, and a jubilant Luca spun away and raced toward me. "I scored, I scored!" he squealed with a look of sheer delight across his face. So excited was he that ran clear of the pitch and bounded into his Dad's arms. He repeated this at every goal, and as embarrassing as his exuberance was it was equally warming and, most obviously, enormously cute.

The pick of the goals was his third, his hat trick. One of the opponents knocked it too far in front in him, and the ball spun away toward the corner, nearest the goal Luca was defending. Seizing on the opportunity Luca outpaced his opposite number to the ball, only just keeping it within the confines of the pitch. He then spun and ran with the ball up the entire length of the pitch, during which he knocked it past a couple of (naturally) flimsy opponents from the "Yellows" (Luca was the "Blues"). He then bore down on goal, switched the ball to his good (left) foot and prodded the ball high past the goalkeeper.

I swear I literally yelped as the ball hit the net, drawing a number of amused/bemused/embarrassed stares from a number of the other patents. Note to self, do not do this again. There are plenty of ways in which I'll inadvertently embarrass my son over the next decade or so without adding to his future humiliations in such an obvious manner.

More than any other entry in this long running blog, today's prose is intended primarily for future consumption by Luca. Whether or not he develops into a player of reasonable ability in later years (I fear the footballing genes I've provided to him will negate that possibility) I'd like him to at least know how dynamic he once was.

And also to know how much his parents love him absolutely.

For any other family members still reading (you're still here?) I can't even offer the recompense of recent images, due to this being my first (I'll fated?) entry from an I-Pad. Technology and Gary, two opposites that shall never collide.

**Useless fact of the day -

A Manchester City fan was banned in 1995 from bringing dead chickens into City’s Maine Road ground. He used to celebrate City goals by swinging the birds around his head. **