Too much too young

2012 has brought about a new annum, with the hope and fresh start every new year brings. However, I haven't yet made use of this new opportunity and my blog updates (obviously my most important responsibility) since January have been remiss - to say the very least. But, as every new day is a new opportunity I shall let the computer continue it's chronological story......




Of course, this assumes I've uploaded today's photo's in chronological order. Which of course I haven't. Yay. At least Luca is as yet blissfully unaware of his Dad's almost disturbing lack of technological prowess. Here he is above in a classic pose, sat atop a small, inelegant and frankly cheap looking sculpture outside a series of closed down shops just off Aberdeen's city centre. A photo for the classic archives doubtless.



This is better. If his lions mane doesn't immediately identify him, Luca is the child in the grey t-shirt and blue shorts during his (first ever) organised run. Doesn't he look quick?



Of course pictures lie. He didn't run very fast. Indeed he finished half way down the field. This picture above is more representative, with Luca eating the dust of a slightly chubby girl who is clearly doing little more than an energetic walk. Much like that weird sport in the Olympics (is it called the walking race?) where slightly built men wiggle their hips in a disturbingly effeminate way across a track, while the observing crowd use all their reserves to to disguise their mirth at such a preposterous spectacle.



Here he is, professionally warming up for the big race. With a yawn.



"I might get beaten by girls today Dad"



I jest of course. He did very well, as up until only 30 minutes before the races start it looked unlikely he would run at all. During the previous evening he and I had visited Duthie Park to experience the singular joy brought forth by the truly enormous slide in residence. After what seemed (to me) to be a time period comparable to that of the Bronze Age ("Just 2 more goes Dad") we departed the park toward the car park. Now it's a downhill walk to the car park. On tarmac footpaths. And Luca was running. Need I go further? He swallow dived several feet across the surface, opening up his hands and knee's quite badly. We sat in my car for nearly an hour attempting to stop the flow of blood from both knee's. So kudos to the little chap for even attempting the race little more than 15 hours later.



No, this isn't Abbey. Due to a rather unscheduled hospital visit from one of Carole's co-workers last week, we ended up babysitting (dogsitting?) young Sasha here for a couple of nights. I need make no mention of the thoughts and inward deliberations of my wife during this period.



On a smaller scale, here's the boy and the object of his eternal love, out on yet another forest walk. Taken during a brief "I need a little sit down" period, Luca is normally continual motion and as such a trifle difficult to catch on camera.



Like here. Like "The Flash" after a L'Oreal advert.



Another picture taken in Aberdeen, he often requests his photograph to be taken at present. It doesn't stop him fidgeting like an army of ants have invaded his undergarments of course.



Again in Aberdeen, in my favourite store - "One-Up", the independent music outlet. Luca spent nearly 20 minutes with the in-store headphones glued to his ears, sampling the latest wares. He was most enthused by a band called "Field Music". Not music you would expect a 5 year old to be attracted by, you can click the link below for a sample of what excited him so:- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cKvLO1PFf8

Finally an image taken in Aberdeen train stations cafe. Were we going somewhere? No, we had simply made the mistake of arriving into Scotland's oil capital at lunchtime on a Sunday. A brief interlude at one of the cities quieter establishments was needed, hence our curious choice for our gastronomic requirements.

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Like a slavering dog, this smile is only evident as I waved a piece of chocolate cake around behind the camera. Sadly, I'm not attempting to be humorous.

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On the next blog we'll feature the gifts Luca presented to Carole on Mothers Day. I allowed him free reign to purchase whatever he felt was suitable for his Mummy's present. With predictably catastrophic results.

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Before you find another more entertaining method of killing 2 minutes and 14 seconds, have a look at the video's posted at the bottom of the page. The first a rare recording of Isis showing there's still a little life in those old joints, and the second of Luca demonstrating his "unique" skills at football training. I swear he's usually much more adept than on this brief clip. And I've no idea why he attempts the bunny hop.

**Useless fact of the day - The longest living dog, according to the Guinness
Book of World Records, was an Australian Cattle Dog, named Bluey, who lived to
be 29**

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**