Nursery meeting

So how did my meeting at the nursery go? Very well, I'd surmise

The meeting - personally instigated in order to further discuss the recent injuries suffered by Luca - began with a face to face with both the manager and main staff member from Luca's section. Both women were already bright red and nervous even as we sat down, very obviously expecting a hard time. I wasn't going to disappoint.

Knowing how defensive they would likely be, I began by quickly listing Luca's faults and past problems in order to ensure none were used further into the meeting to divert from the main issues. Once covered, I was able to let go.

For the next 20 minutes I angrily remonstrated with them over the lack of care afforded to Luca of late, and how furious I was at having to collect him in such states. They were made aware how unacceptable it was, strongly questioning their techniques from every angle. Although I ensured I never lost control of my anger, a certain proportion of this section was about me blowing off steam.

To be fair they took it well. Susan (the staff member) was rarely able to lift her eyes from her shoes, but Loretta (the manager), although very flustered, kept herself professional and reasonable throughout.

Knowing they legally couldn't discuss the offending child (although Max, the perpetrator, is clearly less child and more demon spawn), I kept the latter part of the meeting concentrated primarily on future plans of actions and corrective procedures. Clearly anticipating this, they outlined a large number of tasks they will now implement, among them:-

Shadowing Max indefinitely

Sectioning rooms clearly

Limiting use of items (such as building blocks) to their specific area

On top of this, they've assured there'll be another meeting with Max's parents. Although predictably uncomfortable discussing the juncture they are presently at with them, Loretta outlined the basic procedures. Following discussions if the improvements aren't met they'll initially sit down and propose that alternative care is provided to him (such as a nanny) before the final step of exclusion. Additionally, they're having a full staff meeting on this issue on 10th May to discuss any further improvements that could be made on their own procedures.

I've also insisted on being kept up to date of any incidents, and will reconvene with a follow up meeting in 3 weeks time (the 17th) to discuss progress.

I just read that back. I sound like an ogre. Oh well.

In all seriousness, I have absolutely no doubt such incidents won't occur again. I think the point was made. Luca enjoys the nursery, I'm just ensuring he continues to do so and never feels anxious or worried about attending.

Is anyone still reading? Sorry, I wasn't sure how much detail I should divulge. Too much I think, as clearly demonstrated by having stretched it into a ten paragraph opus!

How did I find the time to write such a lengthy blog tonight? I'm alone again. I drove Carole and Gail (who I mistakenly called Claire - ooops!) into Westhill tonight for another Hen Night. I know, another one. We have so many weddings to attend this year the whole idea off such ceremonies will have us bored to tears by the time ours come round.

Tonight's Hen Night has an Abba theme, and as such Carole and Gail were attired in particularly dodgy 70's threads when I returned home from work with Luca. This didn't impress him, and he buried his head in my shoulder. I quickly realised he simply didn't recognise his own Mummy in a blond wig and brought him inside as they gossiped outside with a cigarette (I know, filthy habit isn't it?)

"Who's that?" I queried as I pointed to Carole through the kitchen window. "I don't know" he sobbed. "It's Mummy" I advised, and his bobble head raised upward while his brown eyes squinted at the figures through the glass. "No" he said firmly as he grasped my cheeks, "that's not my Mummy"

Thankfully, he'd recognised his Mum by the time we clambered into my car and happily ate a plate of chips - sharing them with Gail - as we sped through the evening sun to the Westhill Hotel.

However, on route home we stopped at the supermarket to pick up some food for my tea. Nothing out of the ordinary there, yet it brought about a first. Luca was clearly weary (it was around 7pm at this point) so I walked through the store with him in my arms. We shortly reached the checkout with our basketful of food, only for the checkout girl to let out an involuntary "awwwww".

Quickly realising it wasn't my masculine charms she was overcome by (even in my heyday circa 1997 that was not a common occurrence) I glanced down at my toddlers face to realise it was lent against my chest with eyes closed in the deepest of sleeps.

Very cute, but by God my arm ached by the time we got back to the car. Imagine carrying a 35lb bag of potatoes under one arm for 20 minutes and you'll get the picture.

Speaking of carrying heavy things, I've been back to the weight gym again. Yes, I am in agony. Yes, my biceps still resemble a knot tied in a piece of thread.

For those of you who frequent gyms, am I alone in noticing the bodybuilding guys (or the "Muscle Marys" as more accurately depicted) don't actually seem to do much exercising? Every time I go in these guys never actually appear to lift anything, seemingly preferring to stand in front of the mirrors just looking at themselves.

Am I missing something obvious? How do they get muscly? Do they exercise at home, then come to the gym just to look at the results in the big mirrors? Or do they stare in the mirrors hard enough to bulk up through willpower alone? Answers on a postcard please.

However, I digress. I have a few final random photo's for you, taken over the last couple of days:-

Luca has become enamoured with the bright flowers on the tree in our front garden. Here he insisted on posing beside it. "I like the flowers. They very pink"

With his milky moustache this photo looks like one of those "drink milk" advertising campaigns from the 70's and 80's.

That's the back of Luca's head. Yes, he's driving the car. Kind of.

We'd unbuckled him from his seat in the back upon entering our cul de sac street, and he bounced into the front and onto my knee to steer us home. "I driving Daddy!" he squeals, "Luca's very good at driving"

**Useless fact of the day - At the age of 12 Louis Crane became the youngest ever university graduate**

Body of an 80 year old, mind of an 8 year old

With the Scottish summer again reverting to type (rain, hail and arctic gusts that cause involuntarily swearing as they sweep through you) there has been little to report these past few days. A familiar "work, exercise, sleep" procedure would adequately describe our weekday activities.

The re-established routine has included a return to the weights gym for me. Being a naturally skinny build (or "athletic" as I prefer to fabricate) I hadn't contemplated any great physical change in my appearance of late. However, a blithely throwaway statement from Carole ("I don't like runners builds, I prefer your natural build") when discussing the recent increase in my running drew me to the scales where I discovered a reasonably significant reduction in my weight. Time to eat more I guess.....

Alongside this, I've taken to the weights again, where I've sorely rediscovered the mantra "no pain no gain". As it's been some time since I last lifted weights my body has been completely unprepared for the two gym sessions I've undergone in the past few days. I'm aching! Still, at least my arms are now as big as Arnold Shwartzeneggers.........pinkie.

Carole has outdone me however, with three fitness classes and a walk up Bennachie (1733ft in height - see photo's above) in the days since my last blog. Furthermore her diet began last Monday which has left me a little perplexed as to where her energy has come from. She's stuck impressively resolutely to the diet and hasn't faltered. Long term it will be interesting to see if the diet contributes enough calories to maintain this present level of pace.

Being tempted by higher fat food is clearly preying on her mind, as this weekend has proven. On Saturday we took a morning trip to Aberdeen, mainly to visit an exhibition at the Art Gallery (www.aagm.co.uk). Luca proved considerably quiet, although not without "moments" as demonstrated below:-

However, we were forced to avoid the bi-monthly international food market and return home early both to remove temptation and to bring ourselves back to our diet food stocked house for our mid day meal. A disciplined Carole nibbled her small meal as Luca and I devoured our waffles, sausages and beans.

Luca and I departed again to shop shortly after ("I coming with you Daddy, I no have afternoon sleep"), returning primarily with the basic ingredients for a "Weight Watchers" chicken, tomato and couscous dinner. As support I agreed to cook and share this one of Carole's low fat dishes. How good was it? I've eaten worse, but very noticeably ate a five pack of giant oat cookies shortly afterwards to abate the grumbling in my unfulfilled stomach.

Carole didn't appear to hungry thankfully, although this may have been due partly to the particularly grisly horror movie we watched that evening, "Cabin Fever 2". The bit where the lead character removed his infected arm utilising an automated saw even dulled my appetite. Briefly.

Today saw Caroles walk up Bennachie, while Luca remained at home with me to "help". I washed my car while he "helped" by searching it thoroughly for chocolate. I then dug up the garden while he "helped" by picking out all the worms from the soil.

To be fair, he does attempt to help, but his strength and coordination still leave a little to be desired......

Bit like his Dad

PS - Just realised, today I washed the car, played with my son and did some gardening. Short of pulling on my stripey trousers and heading to the golf course it's unlikely my Sunday could have been any more suburban.....

One final note before I end this entry (as I can hear a maniacal over tired toddler laugh resonate through the house), Luca has obtained yet another injury. Unfortunately the source was familiar. I collected him from nursery on Wednesday with a huge lump adorning his forehead. The nursery's supervisor explained what had happened (he'd been cracked over his head with a wooden block) but of course legally couldn't tell me who the perpetrator was. She didn't need to. "Was it Max?" I enquired to Luca, who sheepishly replied "Yes, I cried and cried".

This isn't an isolated incident with this child (who is a year or so older than our short man and has caused a few scratches and bruises previously). I've known of him for a while, although have yet to see him - he gets collected early. Apparently he's mentally slow, hence the "incidents", although I will not accept this as an excuse for the genuine harm coming to my son. I made my feelings clearly known, that I will not accept what is continuing to occur. If this happens one more time I'll have absolutely no hesitation in ensuring he's excluded.

Am I overreacting? Please vote in the poll at the top, I'm curious to know.

**Useless fact of the day - Some believe that Bennachie's peak had religious significance to the Bronze Age people who inhabited this area. This theory is supported by the large number of standing stones in the surrounding area. The significance is believed to be connected to the profile of the hill, which is shaped like a female breast, which is reflected in the name "Mither Tap" (Mother Tap) and "Bennachie" (Beinn na Ciche)**

All the fun of the funfair

Sunday is funday, certainly judging by the photo's we took of Luca at the fairground yesterday..............

"I think I just followed through Mummy"

"No Daddy, I said the giraffe, THE GIRAFFE!"

You can tell a true cowboy by the type of horse he rides (cowboy proverb)

Even the red shirted carnie looks impressed with Luca's command of a 5 mph superbike

When you're riding lead, don't spit (bikers proverb)

Yes, that is Luca intentionally crashing into the back of an unsuspecting young girl. Yes, of course he laughed. An evil laugh

Examine if you will. Luca greedily grasping a big ice cream cone, face liberally covered with chocolate goodness. Please also pay heed to a hungry Dad, watching and waiting for his moment to strike. "No, you no eat it, is Luca's ice cream" is only 5 seconds away.

Approximately 327 rides later my wallet was empty and a grudging - albeit exhausted - Luca accompanied us away from the neon lights, shrieks and rattles into the open air. "My legs are too easy" he grumbled incorrectly as we walked along the road. His language skills are exemplary, but this one contradiction is the substitution of the word "easy" when "tired" or "sore" is his intended adjective.

With Luca now having climbed into my arms (his Mum can no longer carry his weight!) we walked the short distance to the nearby pet store to pick up biscuits for our smelly hounds. This is where Luca discovered his second wind, as he dragged his Mum and I rapidly through the store to view every fish, guinea pig, rat and rabbit. Worryingly his Mum was afflicted with the same enthusiasm, and a third family pet (of the buck toothed and big eared variety) is looking imminent.

Following a long sprint with the pup later in the day, Luca predictably slept soundly while Carole and I watched "The Men Who Stare At Goats" with an Indian meal. The takeaway was designed to be a delicious final meal before Caroles serious diet begins (her breakfast this morning looked like a seagull had shat on a twig) but it was nothing of the sort.

I've traditionally avoided Indian food like the plague - primarily because I've always felt many curries too closely resemble regurgitated carrots - but acceded on this occasion to provide an alternative to our usual Chinese staple. However, my fears were aggravated further by the sight of my lamb curry (guess what - it looked like regurgitated carrots) coinciding with an unpleasant taste (a little like regurgitated carrots).

"Can we swap?" I begged Carole. "No" came the stern reply as her bright chicken dish glimmered in the evening sun, "mine is nice"

I have football again tomorrow, and will follow it up with a trip to the gym on Wednesday evening. With my burgeoning stamina I can presently run 6 miles or so without pushing myself much, so a summer half marathon is looking ever more likely.

**Useless fact of the day - A motorcycle rider is 40 times more likely to be killed than a car driver**

I'm back

I must start with a riposte to Dad's latest blog. In it he excuses Lucy from regular updates as she's busy looking after the boys and keeping house, yet chastises others. I can't let this one go:-

1. We also have a child, who is very young and requires constant attention and stimulation.

2. And two dogs. One of whom pees in inappropriate places at inappropriate times.

3. The other has more hair than Ross. Our hoover cries itself to sleep at night.

4. Carole works full time, 40 hours a week.

5. I work full time, 50 hours a week.

6. We both work additional "on call", and for approximately 50% of the year are both technically "on the clock" 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

I could continue but I think I've made my point.

Anyway............Admittedly much time has passed since my last update. I'll excuse myself on this occasion, however, as the return of Carole and Luca has - happily - taken up much of my time. What is there to report?

Both returned safely on Sunday evening to an exuberant Daddy. "Carole!" I cried as the car door opened. "Mfmgrrmblerrr" came the tired and tetchy response.

I tried my luck with Luca. "Luca!" I called out as I untangled him from his car seat strap, "I missed you". He grinned. "Yes, you did"

Cutting my losses, I unloaded the car, fed them their dinner and sent them to bed hoping for a warmer welcome once the travel lag had cleared.

On Monday it came. "I'm sorry I was no fun yesterday" smiled Carole as she cooked me one of my favourite dinners, "I'll make up for it". Luca was more succinct. "Daddy, come here, I want you" was the call whenever I wandered outwith his immediate line of vision. Additionally, I had been to the dentist earlier in the day, so of course he found a way to accidentally headbutt me in the exact spot the dentist had been attacking only hours previously. "Thanks Luca" I muttered. "You're welcome" came Luca's innocent response.

On Tuesday Granny Jo made a welcome return as she picked Luca up from nursery while Carole attended her fitness class and I played football. Indeed, she was still at our house when I returned home at 9.30pm. "I'll maybe just have one more coffee" she said as I walked in, leaving me to wonder whether I should point out that the twitch forming in her hand and comedy blinking probably indicated she'd already ingested past her limit.

On Wednesday came an increased physicality from Luca, as he (uncommonly) tested his limits with his Dad, strongly (albeit non violently) using all his power to take me down. My laughter eventually forced me to relent, and I let him clamber on top as I lay down. "I did it!" he squealed exuberantly, before his celebratory roar turned to screams when I got up and hung him upside down by his ankles. "I had enough, I had enough" he cried whilst attempting stop his giggling convulsions.

I didn't laugh much later however. Carole convinced me to watch "Brokeback Mountain", the Oscar winning movie about gay cowboys. Gratifyingly the sex scenes weren't graphic, but by God it was a dull film. 90 minutes in (with another hour still to go) I retreated for a late saunter with Yoda, contemplating how such a pile of **** could have won such praise.

Between this, and the equally execrable past winners "Schindlers List", "Philadelphia", "Milk" and "The Hurt Locker", I'm beginning to wonder what is the judges on the Oscars committee smoke. And where I can get some.

Thursday brought more fitness classes for Carole, while I took care of the wee man. "Make sure he has a bath" were Carole's stern instructions earlier in the day, so following his tea of chicken and potato (many thanks to Aunt Jane for introducing new food to his diet) we trudged up the stairs to the bathroom. "It's too hot" he cried once I'd run the bath. "It's too cold now" he tutted as I tried to rectify the initial problem. "It's too deep, silly Daddy" he muttered while shaking his head as I attempted to find a suitable temperature.

The look on his face as an "at-the-end-of-his-tether" Daddy hurled him unexpectedly over the side and into the water was priceless. The glint in his eye told me he'd have his revenge before long however......

Later we (as in Carole and I, Luca still prefers Humf) watched the first live election debate, as the leaders of the UK's three main parties went head to head in an almost unprecedented television debate. Despite the irritating lack of depth and clarity to the answers (mainly due to TV's time constraints and the presenters insistence on not letting any individual talk for longer than ten seconds) much was revealed. Primarily David Cameron's continual resistance toward answering questions openly and honestly. My previous intrigue in some of his inventive policies evaporated in this short 90 minute programme.

It's late, so I must bid adieu and retire to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow, with a mixture of lunchtime entertaining, shopping, football and anticipated toddler tantrums. I'll leave you with a couple of photo's of Luca making his Mummy her tea on Thursday night. Ignore the hyperbole, he is turning out to be a smashing kid.

Useless fact of the day - Humans have consumed caffeine since the Stone Age.^[31] Early peoples found that chewing the seeds, bark, or leaves of certain plants had the effects of easing fatigue, stimulating awareness, and elevating one's mood. Only much later was it found that the effect of caffeine was increased by steeping such plants in hot water. Many cultures have legends that attribute the discovery of such plants to people living many thousands of years ago**

Big house for one man

Why am I writing a blog tonight? Habit? Boredom? A perverse desire to let all and sundry know how ill at ease I am alone in this big house?

This assumes anyone ever reads this. Writing this is certainly the literary equivalent of talking to the television - the neon glare of the screen blinds my eyes yet the odds of response or acknowledgement is marginal.

I'll resume normal prose once Carole and Luca have returned from Lincoln.

Fives days "sans" family seems an insignificant period in the longer scheme of things, yet time is surprisingly dragging. How have I kept busy since their Tuesday departure?:-

Tuesday - Work followed by a game of football

Wednesday - Work followed by shopping followed by a movie ("Wild Hogs". Truly, truly execrable).

Thursday - Work followed by a trip to the gym followed by.........this blog

Par-tay.

At least Kelly can now rest assured she isn't the only one to drink and type (yep, beer is my buddy this week). We exchanged a few emails yesterday, and her admission that she was drinking rum did certainly explain her "erratic" typing. Very funny though, and nice to speak to her. Speak not in a literal sense obviously.

Speaking of which...........Although tonight's agenda included calling Carole, my intent has been forcibly delayed. I've lost my voice! I've been struggling with a little excess mucus these past two days (apologies for being over descriptive), finally resulting in ever weakening vocals. Indeed, by mid afternoon my voice had become a more humorous counterfeit of Mickey Mouses, eventually reaching a squeakiness inaudible to even the most alert of dogs.

Do you think the beer I'm drinking will be a help or hindrance?

I have little else to mention. I did play a game on the Playstation last night. This is noteworthy as - contradictorily opposite to my teenage years - I NEVER play computer games these days. However, rubbish TV and lack of company late last night forced me to relive my youth (1987 to 1992 was badly misspent) and despite myself I had fun. Bloody sore eyeballs this morning mind.

Almost neglected to mention. I had a nightmare last night (no not about dinosaurs, that's the mini version of me that has those) and woke with a start and a cold sweat before instinctively diving toward Carole. Who wasn't there. Yoda was. Not an attractive alternative. At all.

**Useless fact of the day - Suicide accounts for l in 100 deaths but the majority of those are men. A worrying recent trend is the increasing rate of suicide among younger men (a trend not seen among young women). The majority of these men have not asked for help before their deaths. The suicide rate in men also increases in those aged between 65 and 75 years. In contrast, the suicide rate in women varies less with age**

Just a quickie

Easter Sunday yesterday so we took Luca along to Castle Fraser (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castle_Fraser) for an Easter Egg Hunt. He had a great time and tore around the grounds looking for the clues. An hour of traipsing later he'd found them all and been presented with a congratulatory chocolate egg by the castle staff. You can see it in the picture above, attached to his hand in a vice like grip.

Carole loves my hat. "We're not walking beside you if you're wearing that" she told me firmly, only half joking

The rest of the day was good too. Carole cooked us an Easter roast, of which Luca (the worlds least adventurous eater) astonishingly tried every item on his plate. "I like the meat" he smiled as he chewed. The leek proved less popular however, as he demonstrated by regurgitating it over my hand.

**Useless fact of the day - The custom of giving eggs at Easter time has been traced back to Egyptians, Persians, Gauls, Greeks and Romans, to whom the egg was a symbol of life**

David Beckham Mark II

As a precursor to any hangover recovery, I took Luca out for a game of football in the street this morning. His enthusiasm for the game has grown massively of late (obviously in no way influenced by his Dad) and encouragingly he's showing great aptitude. Indeed, at one point he turned with the ball and backed into me in an attempt to shield the ball (Wayne Rooney-esque)! I considered slide tackling him to provide him with a valuable lesson in the unfairness of life, but as his Mummy was watching I wisely decided otherwise.

Of course being only 3 years of age his stamina has limits, as demonstrated by the picture above. Look carefully at the tree - that's Luca hiding behind it. He was exhausted and this was his way of telling me it was time to go home for his afternoon nap.

It's 3.30pm on Saturday afternoon and I'm the sole member of the Stewart residence still awake. Luca's having his nap, the dogs are slumbering on their bed and even Carole's fast asleep on the sofa. We were in Aberdeen last night at a wedding reception, only returning (a little drunkenly) around 2am this morning. A few years ago arrival home at this hour wasn't a problem, but when you have a toddler who enters your bedroom at 7am every weekend morning and opens the curtains while bellowing "It's morning time!" your preferences become skewed somewhat.

Tonight I intend to cook us our deferred anniversary meal. Our anniversary was on Thursday, but with time constraints proving restrictive I instead brought home a Chinese take away as a disappointing substitute. I'll make up for it tonight with Carole's favourite, Red Thai Curry. However, as my last attempt was about as tasty as a North Korean Jack Russell Platter I should begin preparations now to ensure tonight's dish won't result in Carole spending the evening hovering around the toilet bowl.

Yes, that is a plate of dog meat. Sorry. Hey, it's the differences in cultures that make the world an interesting place.

**Useless fact of the day - Dogs have historically been an emergency food source for various peoples in Siberia, Alaska, northern Canada, and Greenland. Sled dogs are usually maintained for pulling sleds, but occasionally are eaten when no other food is available**

Anniversary

Today is Carole and my 4th anniversary. Yes, a near 28 month old Christmas photo was one of the few pictures we have been caught together in!

Happy anniversary baby

**Useless fact of the day - The 100th anniversary, though there is no record of anyone ever celebrating this, is listed on the modern list as a 10-carat Diamond**