Another couple of dragons slain

It's not as if there has been an absence of important events either... its just been shoddy blogging I'm afraid.

So, a brief precis of the spring/summer...

While on a ski tow back in April we received a phone call telling us that we'd just got the home of our dreams. That was pretty momentous and not without tension - the Scottish system of closing dates and sealed bids is enough to send anyone to the edge. I could tell you about the flat... but it is so splendid in every way that you'd start to dislike us and we wouldn't want that now would we?

Suffice it to say that I AM NEVER MOVING AGAIN. This is it. For good.

So the spring was taken up with preparation for that and Tom experienced many of the insecurities associated with such events. He seemed to take the move up from Nottingham last year in his stride but this spring Tom suffered a great deal with separation anxiety. School drop off became a trial for all of us but, with great help from his Steiner kindy teacher, he has made his way through it and is now quite the stoic.

The other key developments have been about Tom's physical achievements. Absence of cochlear implants in the pool - alongside the whole separation thing - have made for slow progress with swimming but Nicky has persevered. In weekly lessons, one-on-one with Edinburgh City special needs staff, Tom has developed in confidence to the extent that, by the summer break, he had just started doggy paddling.

As far as I can make out, though, Tom didn't really get it. What was the appeal of getting in a big cold bath for 30 minutes with a stranger you had difficulty communicating with? He never heard all the other children laughing and splashing around; incentives were few and far between. Luckily his desire for a blue slushy remained great enough to get him through to summer.

Then came the family vacation to France and the killer combination of hot weather and friends-with-pools. All Tom needed was a long sunny afternoon with Amelia and a pool full of inflatable toys. The transition from nervous paddler to fish-boy was complete - and greatly enhanced by daily access to another friend's pool for the rest of the holiday.

Good times.

And today another bogeyman was slain. Following the meningitis I developed a fairly lengthy mental list of shit that I feared was lying in wait for Tom. Some of the items on this list were hugely irrational - I had a recurring nightmare that he would never increase in height that hung around for a few months (I suspect a psychologist would have fun with this one; something about being locked in the worst of moments). Others, though, weren't so far fetched and based more firmly in medical possibility.

Tom's balance was pretty messed up after the illness and, while he has made enormous progress, he still can't hop and has a fairly spread gait and flat feet as he compensates for his core instability. I think he has a sense of this and is generally reluctant to test himself in the way most five year old boys might. We nudge away at this as gently as we can and today, given that we are enjoying an atypically sunny Scottish weekend, we raised the possibility of him trying his bicycle without stabilisers in the park across the road. I made all the appropriate assurances about running with him, holding the back of his seat and he deigned to give it a go.

Anyway, you can probably guess the rest. After a couple of runs like this I whispered to Tom -

'I wasn't really holding you - I was just touching the saddle'

'Really? let's do it again'

and as we trundled back to Nicky I let go.

And off he went.

Obviously, now I'm terrified about the canal on the other side of the park...

Hello autumn

Tom has been experimenting with verse.

'Rain, rain go away. And never come back'

or

'Rain, rain go away. And go all the way to Australia'

or, most emphatically

'Rain, rain go away. Come back when I'm dead'

So yes, Edinburgh has been unpleasantly wet this September (and August for that matter - but that's to be expected - its the festival) and Tom is not a great fan of rain to boot. He manages to smile through it eventually...

So the summer has gone, in Scotland at least, school is back in session and it has been over four months since my last post. Tom's fifth birthday has been and gone in the mean time along with a whole raft of 'must write about that' moments that somehow didn't get beyond hasty envelope notes. I will endeavour to do better.

In the meantime, a shot of Tom and I taken on his birthday at Disneyland Paris, a little theme park we stumbled across on our way back through France during our vacation. Not the most 'Steiner' of holiday destinations but I would offer Tom's polite 'what's Disneyland?' question, uttered as we pulled in to the car park, as mitigation.

Hello again...

I've thought about posting so often over the last month but events have always moved on and the moment has been lost. There have been holidays and trips that I intended to share...

This one actually dates back to an Easter trip to Grandpa and Savta. Grandpa and Tom were bestest buddies for a week. Grandpa has 'holiday cars' - you can only begin to grasp just how exciting that is.

There has been another trip or two too - hasn't it been a long time? Or are we just having too many holidays?

Tom gave my mum a run out on the beaches of Normandy.

It hasn't all been excitement and play. Well actually, it just about has as far as Tom is concerned but there was one sad day in late April. My somewhat neglected but kind of loved car failed its annual MOT test in dramatic and expensive style. This photo is from the drawn out goodbye ceremony and endless run of 'last plays in daddy's car'.

He has since told everyone about how daddy's car went to the garage and didn't come back. I thought he might pine a little but he shows no outward signs of grief. I think his passion for 'the-car-that-flies' has seen him through. It's not as if the obsession needed any encouragement but Nik's aunt, uncle and cousin did it anyway and took us all to see the stage version which is currently touring the UK. Given Tom's tendency for role play and completion immersion in character, it won't surprise you to know that he went to the theatre dressed as Caractacus Potts.

He has told his teachers once or twice that that's his name.

So that's the story of the last month or so... one of car-obsessed, carbon-footprint creating travel and revelry. Tom has adapted to nursery extremely well and - whisper it - he already seems to be at a place where he doesn't need any additional support. That's not to say it isn't on offer or hovering in the wings but we've had the sort of conversation with educational professionals that starts 'I realise that I don't treat Tom any differently to any other child...' and 'I have never had a deaf child that I've thought could do this well...'.

Things are going well... so its time to shake things up.

We put our house up for sale in the same week that the run on Northern Rock began. Not the finest or most astute piece of timing but, hey, when you've gotta go...

Nine months and several price drops later it has sold and we're now a couple of weeks away from moving. Boxes are piling up, lists have been compiled and plans made. By the end of June we'll be living in Edinburgh and starting a whole new chapter. Tom's needs have been at the forefront of our minds throughout the process and, now I'm back in the blogwriting groove, I'll explain a little more.

Next time.

Tom's next year

So it has now been two years since the rush to hospital, the diagnosis and the long wait. Time has done its healing and Tom has done some growing and recovering. He is in a wonderful place now.

A year ago I put together a montage of video clips and photos to show that progress and posted it here. There is now a sequel. It isn't quite as poignant a journey - its my opportunity to be super-indulgent dad.

So without further ado -


Tom's next year from Jason B on Vimeo.

My, hasn't he grown?

Tom had his hair cut just before we went away over Easter. The curls were running rampant, the knots were creating morning grooming 'issues' and frequent fringe trims were leaving the resultant mop in a state one might describe as 'mullety'.

Cutting his hair aged him about 2 years in 10 swift-clipping minutes. Where did our baby go?

The illness - what happened next...

Where did I leave you? Oh yes, with Tom running a temperature and us attempting to manage our tendency to expect the worst.

Well you'll be pleased to know that it all ended well. Tom got over his illness, life returned to some semblance of normality and we all caught flights to snowy Switzerland and a week's skiing.

This return to normality was not as straightforward as one might have hoped. It took us via a GP who wasn't taking any chances, a referral to A&E where we encountered an equally risk-averse SHO (and supervising Registrar) and an overnight stay for Tom and Nik in the all-too-familiar Queen's Medical Centre. That is one of the assorted legacies of a medical history that features a life-threatening illness and febrile convulsions.

One is not dismissed as an over-anxious parent. One is not dispatched with a slightly patronising suggestion to administer Calpol and leave it a day or two. Indeed, everyone is at great pains to reassure you that you've done the right thing and they would do the exact same.

As it was, it was just a temperature - Tom was bouncing around on his hospital bed the next morning in a manner that suggested he was well on the road to recovery. There had been no need to get that anxious. There had been no real need to instigate a chain of events that led to expensive rescheduling of flights and an uncomfortable, stressful sleepless night for Nik - one that, coincidentally, featured the UK's largest earthquake for many years.

An alarming, terror-inducing portent of something much worse... that passed very quickly and
is all but forgotten now.

The same goes for the earthquake.

So what will happen next time Tom gets a temperature? Will we cope a little better? I don't know. If anyone has any strategies we'd love to hear them.

One thing that reassures me is looking at pictures like this, taken a week after this little drama.

Eat yer greens!

This one is for Heather.. .although I expect some interest from the Broccoli Marketing Board.

We take vegetable eating very seriously in this house...

Big Days

I think I'm a blog refuser. It got to the point where, just like with thank you notes after Christmas, it had been so long that it was almost ruder to post than not. For any of you who haven't become disenchanted with the lack of action in these parts, thank-you for hanging in there. I got caught up with the day job... still am in fact but I'm experimenting with multi-tasking. Not sure if I'm going to be any good at it but I'll give it a shot.

The big event of the weekend, in the star-struck eyes of Tom in particular, was the all-to-brief visitation of 'Uncle Bungle Dave'. Nik's brother has near-mythical status, enhanced by long distance and, ever-so-slightly-enviously, rarity value. Here are a few key indicators of the extent of the affection, through the mouth of the little one...

'Uncle Bungle's Train!!! Uncle Bungle's Train!!!... Hide!! Hide!!'

'Dave is a funny man!! Dave is a funny man!!'

'I want to wee with Dave.. I have to' (there follows 5-minute meltdown until Dave concedes and 'pretends')

'Who's reading your story tonight?' 'Dave!! Not Daddy (a little too emphatically)'

'Can Dave sleep with me tonight?'

You have to rely on your inner strength when you're a daddy don't you? I thought I could expect a longer period of grace as the unassailable favourite but my stock has fallen.

So soon, so soon.

Mummyless weekend

'Ok - lets show Mummy that you didn't survive on chips, sweets and biscuits all weekend'


'Don't just store in in your mouth - swallow it!'


'And smile... yes, the apple looks good'


'Now show mummy that we miss her terribly'

Rainy days don't have to be dull...

Do you detect more than a hint of 'cheeky monkey' in that face?

Themed raincoat/boots have been something of a feature of Tom's wardrobe this year. Unfortunately he's mixing themes currently so we have a 'dinosaur' coat with 'frog' boots. The 'frog' coat is waiting for slightly longer arms...

Clearly it's a massive sartorial error that we will have to pay for in years to come - possibly with very expensive therapy.

What Tom did next...

This last few weeks Tom has mostly been...


running around the French countryside while bossing his parents and grandparents around...


Trying to unlock chateaux with his grandpa's car keys. Marks for creative thinking are deserved, I think, along with a sigh of relief that he has moved on from trying the handles of parked cars. That was a slightly disturbing (but criminally amusing) habit.
There was time for looking radiant with his mother and reminding me what a lucky man I am to have a family like this...

We caught nothing bar a few small stones but that kind of effort is tiring y'know?

Holidays are splendid things aren't they?

Happiness is a Car-shaped cake

On Saturday my parents came over for a barbeque. They brought a cake for Tom because the old man had seen it and couldn't resist. And because they rarely have to deal with the consequences of the sugar rush that follows.

They don't have to buy Tom's affection through the provision of Lightning McQueen-shaped gifts but clearly figure that there's no harm in shoring up their stock once in a while.

Anyway, I couldn't decide which picture best captured the essence of Tom's excitement so I thought I'd leave it to you and see if it drums up a few comments.

And to pre-empt the anticipated questions; yes that is a knife he's brandishing. Mum and Nanny are just out of shot, ready to head off any manic activity...

The mouth was consumed first, then the headlights and then the wheels. The sponge is something of an after thought; Tom is happiest just working through the icing. That's where the biggest buzz is.

Smile, darn it, smile!

I asked Tom to smile for the camera - it looks like he's forcing himself manually doesn't it? Note the sticker chart on the door in the background - that's Tom's 'pee in the potty' reward system. He's being a smart little cookie and he has just about got it. He has become king of the precautionary pee and, at the slightest internal urge, called for the throne... only to produce a teaspoonful.

A Year to the Day - posted a little late

This pic was taken on the 22nd April; a significant date in our diaries now as it marks the day Tom was admitted to hospital. This year we took the decision to fill the day with about as much fun as it could take which meant 'Sundown Adventureland'!!

What do you mean you've never heard of Sundown? Why, it's only the premier amusement park for the under fives in the whole of the North Nottinghamshire/Lincolnshire border region. Imagine if Walt Disney had been born in Retford with a sight less ambition, less access to prime real estate in the sun and a lacksadaisical attitude to fibre-glass care and you might be getting close. Tom, and many toddlers besides, doesn't care. To coin a phrase borrowed from my eloquent neighbour's description of 'In The Night Garden', Sundown is baby crack.

We had a great time and set ourselves a tradition for future years.

Snowtime

We just got back from the Alps and, as you can see, Tom fills out a snowsuit quite nicely, the belt gives him a most peculiar hourglass shape, accenuating his nappy-clad butt quite spectacularly.
Surrounded by indulgent family, the boy had a marvellous time. Too marvellous a time on occasions which led to a couple of spectacular tantrums, the most dramatic of which led to this:
An hour or so of screaming after a trip in a telecabine ('flying train' in Tom parlance) and a spot of light sledging takes it out of a boy. Thank goodness for underfloor heating.

Celebrating Holidays and the Art of Walking

It's over seven months now since Tom was discharged from hospital. He didn't regain the ability to walk for another month or so.


A couple of days after Christmas we took a walk to see Threave Castle. Tom walked well over a mile on slippery leaves, collected sticks and bounced on the odd farmer's fence. Admittedly, much of the return journey to the car was incentivised by the promise of jelly babies but he was up for the challenge.

He also developed a worryingly defiant urge to grab barbed wire fences which we must nip in the bud.

On New Year's Day at our local park. He climbs short ladders, he goes down slides, he loves his mum... he's a happy, active two year old.

Boy in a Boot (or Trunk)

I always liked sitting in the back of estate cars too.

In lieu of a more recent pic (there's been too much snot) here's Tom on a train from a month or so back. It counts as current because he hasn't stopped talking about it yet.

Hunting Conkers

It's been a while since I posted a Tom pic. This was taken a couple of weekends ago when we went hunting for conkers.