Play that funky music white boy

A short one tonight. It's 11.30pm on Sunday night, and this is my final attempt to blog after innumerable false starts across the past few days

It's been a hectic time at work (plus ca change - which is fast becoming my cliche) and my adding up skills are no longer able to approximate the hours I spend in the office. I arrived back home at 11pm on Friday night and dived (dove?? Na) into bed for a few hours before jumping back up and heading back to work. My arrival home was at 7pm the same day (on a Saturday....) and I was only saved from a pre-emptive divorce due to the DVD and Chinese takeaway I wisely acquired on my way home.

I have much to mention, but time is proving restrictive. Have I mentioned the hotel Carole and I will stay during the two nights between the wedding and our flight to Dublin? It's the Park Inn, have a look at the link:- http://www.parkinn.co.uk/hotel-aberdeen

I know what you're thinking. "Is that a popular city centre hostelry which perchance serves beverages of the alcoholic variety only yards from their hotel's front door?"

Yeah it is :)

Finally, enjoy the video below. I at last managed to catch Luca dancing, although as you'll notice he is a little reticent to the idea of being filmed. My favourite bit is toward the end where he shakes his chubby cheeks to the beat.

**Useless fact of the day - If you're dancing, you're probably doing it to some of your favorite tunes, which not only keeps your body moving, but your brain as well. A study in the Heart & Lung journal showed that people who listened to music while they exercised showed better "verbal fluency," as listening to music "may stimulate and increase cognitive arousal while helping to organize cognitive output."**

Can you tell that I'm bored?

I'm paying for my lack of social interaction today. Carole's hen night is this evening, which was preceded by a lengthy hair and make-up appointment in town. This has resulted in my being left with toddler sitting responsibilities. No bad thing, but lordy have I misjudged the length of the day.

Being the highly unsociable and borderline surly individual you know and (cough) love, I often revel in situations where I'm left in my own company (contemplative thinking, working late in the office, etc) but on this occasion I've made rather a misjudgement.

Although Luca demands constant attention (to say the least) being as young as he presently is does limit conversation somewhat, as does his attention span. For example, earlier today Luca heard a word on the radio that was new to him - mystery. "What does mystery mean Dad?" he enquired. "Well, son" I began, impressed with the boys eagerness to learn along with the opportunity to demonstrate one of my few (very few) strengths "The easiest way for me to explain it to you would involve....."

At this point he pounced onto my knee, grabbed the sides of my head with both hands and proclaimed "Daddy - you've got bogeys in your nose!"

Coming back to the main point, that being one of the difference between loneliness and isolation. With Carole not being present all day, I decided to take Luca out with me to run varying errands (shopping, post office, picking up dog food, etc) rather than do anything of a more social nature (such as football, visiting, etc). It seemed the logical choice at the time, but following Luca's surprisingly early departure to bed at 6.40pm ("I tired Daddy, carry me to bed") I've been left with the realisation that other than the odd "thanks" or "bye" I haven't actually conversed with an adult since yesterday.

Which leads to to my decision to write a blog tonight. As you'll by now have guessed, my reasons for writing aren't as altruistic as usual. Indeed, tonight's blog is merely an opportunity to talk to myself without having to actually speak out loud, therefore reminding myself of the precariousness of sanity.

I'm assuming I'm not alone with these thoughts? Oh God, what if I am? What if no-one else talks out loud to themselves on occasion, and then worries about it? OK, new poll - look to the right of the page and vote post haste!

Before this entry becomes too self indulgent (although I think we "jumped that shark" about two years ago) I'll revert back to it's basic intention - inform you of the vagaries of our family life. Carole first, who interestingly becomes ever more affectionate and gooey eyed as the wedding date approaches. I think part of this is due her relaxing as most arrangements have finally been completed, but extraordinarily I think she's seriously looking forward to being married too. Perhaps I should work a little less and be a little nicer in order to live up to her hopes.

And Luca, what's going on with him? No overt changes I can think of, although his grammar and creative thinking continue to expand. We've been able to reason with him for quite some time now, but lately he's been thinking more, and offers a variety of alternative solutions to problems.

Or "argues more" to put it more simply.

He's also become very affectionate too, and has taken to holding my hand almost permanently when he's around me. Indeed, he even grabbed it yesterday morning at the breakfast table and proceeded to eat his cereal with one hand and hold my hand with the other. Cute. Conversely however, over the last couple of months he's stopped giving me a kiss goodnight. I still get a cuddle "but no kiss". This is part of his growing up I suspect, and one of many that shows his rapid progress from baby to boy. Gratifying to see from so many angles, but sad to lose my baby at the same time.

And me? I'm fine, slight levels of madness aside. Still stupidly working 60-70 hour weeks and eating a diet so bad my doctor would have an aneurysm at the sheer thought, but these aside I'm good.

And I tonight watched what will surely be film of the year in all the end-of-year polls. "Kick Ass". If you haven't seen it rent it now. If you haven't heard of it Google it. And if you keep an open mind you'll love it.

Unless excessive usage of the "C" word is overly off putting.

Tomorrow brings Carole's predicted hangover, so Luca and I will bail out to find refuge and a television to watch Partick Thistle play in Scotland's first cup semi final of the season. Exciting stuff, considering our general ineptitude and malaise, so if you're having a lazy Sunday afternoon then exercise your remote control finger and search your freeview box for the BBC Alba channel at around 3pm

Yes, of course they are going to lose. Now remember to vote and (hopefully) allay my mental health fears.

**Useless fact of the day - BBC Alba's viewing figures per month are around 250000. Total**

Difficult conversations with a toddler

During his waking hours, it's immeasurably difficult to go online without Luca's bat-like ears hearing the click and whirr of a computer. Even if he's on a different floor that familiar high pitched voice will call out "Daddy, are you playing on the computer?". His question is almost incidental, as whether you reply to the affirmative or negative (ie - lie) those little feet will come stomping up the stairs.

Although it's frequently a pleasure to have his company at such times - he just likes to sit on your knee and watch - other times can be more problematic. Such as this weekend. We were trawling through the photo's on his Granda's blog ("That's Granny! That's Granda! That's Granda again!" "Look at the holes on Granda's legs!") until we happened upon an image posted on 17th August, that of a whole roasted pig, head and all.

Suddenly a deep frown crossed his face. "What are they doing to that piggy?" he cried, "The piggy has an owey". I paused briefly, contemplating whether the truth or a white lie would be needed. I chose the truth. "The pig has been on a barbecue" I stated, "So the people can eat their lunch." Cue a confused glare. "You don't eat pigs!" he roared, "Piggy's are our friends"

This conversation continued a while longer, until I was sure he understood. However, I'm unsure of my decision. Did I convey this information to him too early? Should I have waited until he was older? Please vote in today's poll on the right hand side of the page.

Luca's had a busy weekend, and slightly unusually has spent the majority with his Mummy. While I've been snoozing, he and his Mum have been running around together. They particularly enjoyed their trip to the cinema yesterday to watch "Toy Story 3" in 3D. Apparently he spent the movie swiping his hands in front of his face, as the 3D effects danced around the forefront of his vision.

That's not to say he and his Dad have been completely inactive however. We went to the Inverurie Loco's V Deveronvale cup match on Saturday afternoon. The result? A resounding 5 - 0 duffing for our local side. Luca clearly has been inflicted with the same unfortunate luck/curse suffered by preceding generations of football supporting Stewart's. Here he is at the game, having quietly crept under the barrier on his way to invading the pitch after the fourth goal went in.

On Sunday morning - with his Mother hill climbing - he was forced to join me at the office for a brief spell. Not being of great help with import commodity codes, I sat him in the closest canteen in front of CBeebies on the TV. Yes, I did ask him to smile at the camera. But television holds a greater appeal than his father.

We did hit a first at the office though. "I need a wee wee" he cried, rather predictably after his 4th glass of orange juice. With the unsurprising lack of a potty at my workplace, he happily used the main toilet. Nothing odd about that. Except his decision to have a pee standing up! As shocked as I was by his decision I was delighted, although he did have to strain on his tip toes to get his "little man" over the rim of the toilet bowl. "Aim it Daddy" he squealed, as long squirty flows of urine decorated the previously pristine interior of the bathroom.

In non-Luca related news, I achieved what I'd previous considered unachievable on Saturday evening - I convinced Carole to watch a subtitled foreign language film! As you know, Carole is rather fond of big budget, blockbuster, predominantly horror movies, and with this independent cinema holds little appeal for her. However,she sat entranced through French film "La Horde", enjoying every minute.

Of course, it was a French film about killer zombies, but every giant leap starts with a little step. And of course I'm not particularly averse to any film featuring levels of grisly nastiness either......

**Useless fact of the day - Former Leicester City and Millwall goalie Kasey Keller used to be the proud owner of a gas-powered car that was unable to reverse**

Alive. It's alive! IT'S ALIVE!

That right arm - famous for pulling Dad's nose and stealing the food from my plate given any opportunity - was relieved of it's temporary sling prison on Tuesday, as the doctors concurred that the collarbone break was now healed

Apparently a little bump remains in the bone (though I can't locate it), but due to his age that will absorb, leaving no trace.

I think his Granny, unnecessarily feeling guilty for the toddlers fall, was most delighted by this prognosis. "Give Granny a cuddle using both arms" I instructed Luca once the doctor was satisfied. I don't think I've seen Mum smile so hard as he wrapped both arms tightly round her.

Amusingly he now needs constant reminders to relax his arm. Weeks of having his arm constrained in a single position has led him to unconsciously hold it in an "L" shape in front of his chest for periods. He gets a little embarrassed by his forgetfulness, and during a visit to the supermarket later that same day sternly told me that "I like it like this"

There's little else of note to report I'm afraid. Unless you're interested in how I fared in my footballing comeback following a two week absence due to a minor foot injury? No? Fair enough

**Useless fact of the day - Carole passed her recent IT exam following a 3-4 day course with a 78% score despite having thought she'd failed**

You have rekindled my faith in the human race. It's not nicked, is it?

My metamorphosis into Aberdeenshire's own Delboy Trotter was made complete on Sunday, as I staggered out of bed at 5.30am and drove through deserted dawn streets toward Thainstone Market. My car, overflowing with an unimaginable amount of worthless cr*p, arrived at destination perfectly on time, at the advised hour of 6am. Where I positioned my motor in the queue alongside similarly lifeless souls in their work vans and saturated Renault Clio's. And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited. A full hour later the gates were finally and suddenly opened and we haphazardly filed in one by one, desperately wiping the condensation off the inside of our windscreens as we blindly drove, open flasks of coffee tipping everywhere as we did. We were shown to our allocated spots, from where we............guess what? Waited a little bit more.

A further hour passed before the market officially opened, and only then did the strict market rules allow our boots to be opened and cheap foldaway tables laid out (un)resplendently. A scene akin to dropping a bag of chips at the seaside ensued, where the seagull-esque punters descended on our vehicles without mercy. Desperately keeping this previously unseen horde at bay while we unpacked was easily the days most stressful job.

It was interesting to see which items markedly enticed the buyers. My DVD collection and books remained largely, and surprisingly, untouched throughout. Most peculiarly however my biggest seller, without question, was my music collection. I've long known my music taste is of an "acquired" nature (obscure indie label bands primarily) so I fully expected to finish the day with much of it still in my possession. As so often, how wrong I was.

Word quickly got around that a trader (guess who?) was here with "great stuff" (the words of innumerable punters who turned up breathless, eagerly sifting through my CD collection) and my long built up collection was rapidly decimated by lines of ageing indie kids. Perversely, the more obscure a band was, the more excited many of these buyers got. One almost literally salivated as I described in detail the sound and genre of "The Concretes" first album.

At least I now know there are people in the world significantly sadder than myself.

Carole and Luca turned up mid-morning to visit, and allow me a brief break to stretch my legs. Luca particularly enjoyed his job as the banker, and eagerly popped the proceeds of each sale into the tin. His attention span ran short, however, by an appetite that would put Godzilla to shame. He sat in the boot of my car and munched away throughout. Banana? Gone. Crisps? Gone. Biscuits? Gone. Chocolate bar? Gone. Our food stock ran drier than a hot Saharan summers day, so Luca and his stomach (we classify them as two separate entities now) was taken home again by his Mum to further devour the contents of our cupboards and fridge. Here's the two of them (or three counting the toddlers tummy) before they departed.

I eventually arrived home mid-afternoon, where a wife-to-be was present and waiting with my much needed late lunch, and a son who was waiting to help me eat it.

**Useless fact of the day - Each year 1.5 billion pounds are spent at Car Boot Sales in the UK. One million people visit Car Boot Sales every weekend**

Bad backs of the world unite

A lazy weekend is being perdured, with my buttocks having rarely left the agonisingly uncomfortable confines of our bedroom carpet

Why? Because I've spent much of the day in front of my PC, enduring the painfully slow process of burning my entire CD collection to my hard drive in preparation of their forthcoming sale. Tomorrow, at the point where dusk turns to dawn I'll roll out of bed and pour my aching and unwilling figure into the front seat of my car and drive the 3 miles from our house to the weekly car boot sale at Thainstone Market (http://www.goanm.co.uk/thainstonecentre/sundaymarket/index.html)

Again, you may ask the question why (or perhaps not, I'd guess the arch tediousness of this blog has lost most of you so far). Don't I have a job that brings in enough pennies to feed and cloth my family? Well, yes (indeed I've just had a well timed promotion with commensurate pay rise) but as the wedding approaches - 35 days, yikes - the bills are beginning to drop through our letterbox with increasing regularity. I don't expect a car boot sale to contribute too much, but as they say in Asda - every little helps

Despite my earlier comments, it's actually been quite interesting sifting through our loft and cupboards, finding items of monetary value, emotional value and (predominantly unfortunately) no value. See the picture below for what is presently strewn beside me:-

And this is but a small percentage of what I'll be taking with me - much of our upstairs hallway is filled with junk I've dragged out.

It's been quite a nostalgic process as I dig through the rubble. You remember where you lived when you bought that book, or the places you went around the time of buying that CD. Of course, however, you only remember the good things from those times. It's interesting how time filters the bad memories from your mind and leaves only those of a more pleasant variety.

Liz left us just a few days ago, after her most recent week long visit. For a variety of reasons both Luca and Carole enjoyed her visit even more than normal, with both rather quiet and subdued following her departure. Carole in particular loved having her around, for all the help with wedding preparations. Conversely this is without mention of the simple fact she doesn't see her Mum enough, and time is always finite.

Luca has been in good spirits of late, with his broken collarbone and sling barely slowing him down. He still throws himself at his Dad like a guided missile, and with this my face has been contorted permanently into the following expression:-

Wednesday, with his final hospital appointment and accompanying x-ray and (expected) doctor's all clear can't come soon enough.

**Useless fact of the day - In 1998, the latest year for which such information is available, among persons over 65 years of age, 4,655 white men and 132 African-American males committed suicide. By contrast, 902 white women and 20 African-American women committed suicide that year**

Who's that?

This is Carole. Voluntarily posing for a picture. Of course, there are conditions attached - namely her simple desire to show off part of the apparel of her hen night costume. Fangs to follow....

This has been the first blog in many a month not to begin with mention of Luca. And of course I'll revert to norm with the pictures below, the first demonstrating Luca's complete disregard for the healing process of his broken bone - I'd asked him to pose and smile, so he took off instead, his sling (and hips - he is dramatic) sashaying in his wake.

Our initial intention had been to watch the local amateur football team play football (perversely Luca hates football on TV, yet loves watching the game live and in person) but the game had ended just before our arrival. In the light of this I, hesitantly, agreed to take him instead to the swing park. And yes, that's my toddler son with a broken collarbone climbing up the slippy part of a slide one handed. Eeek!

"It's not easy with one hand" he'd said before his ascent. This statement has become his mantra since the break. Putting on shoes, eating cereal, even turning the TV channel - the cry of "Help me, it's not easy with one hand" will emanate from a toddler who is clearly milking the situation for all it's worth.

"Catch me at the bottom Dad - it's not easy to stop with one hand"

The final picture below was the last taken before I dropped and destroyed my camera. Judging by the quality, perhaps the God's of photography were trying to tell me something.

Finally, please cast your vote on the poll above. Before our departure to our Irish honeymoon Carole and I will be spending two nights in a hotel in Aberdeen. I've narrowed it down to two choices. Let me know your vote, and I promise not to entirely disregard your opinion. Probably.

**Useless fact of the day - The owner of Kodak (George Eastman) named his company after the sound the he thought the camera shutter made**