Negative SoundByters – a fine good morning to you all. This post comes a little later in the week than usual and for that I humbly apologise, but it is for very good reason….hopefully it has been worth the wait.
In the past I have spoken of events of “geopolitical significance”; there is one that occurred yesterday that surpasses all others – Rafey turned ONE! (and both his parents have survived to enjoy the occasion – by a fraction!)
There are moments in life when you have the feeling that time flies; as if you started something and “before you know it” it is over. And the same can be said for that first year – or parts of it anyway.
I say “parts” because time stops dead in its tracks when you are dealing with a restless baba at two-thirty in the morning who refuses the notion of sleep. So you rock, cajole, soothe, whisper nursey rhymes and promise him all your wealth – anything to see those eyelids droop. And just as he is nodding off and you are crawling on all fours from his room, your knee hits that one creaky floorboard, and…..you hold your breath, knee suspended, and wait – terrified that his little siren will splutter into life. And over that year, sometimes it did (and time stopped again and I got a little older) and sometimes a contented baby-snore was all that punctuated the silence and Mrs H and I were able to resume an exercise that very roughly resembled “sleep”.
As much as the year has been about Rafey a massive SHOUT-OUT must go to the unsung hero of the year – Mrs H.
My wife is a formidable woman; she has travelled the globe parlaying with some of the best medical minds in the world about joints, hearts, brains - and robotics for good measure. She has professors eating out of the palm of her hand, hospital chief execs mesmerised by her passion for all things clinical – and let’s not forget those surgeons who think they “know it all” until Mrs H introduces another way - “how about a robot to shake things up a bit?”….
And then along came Rafe to do precisely that….shake the tree so hard that both Mrs H and I tumbled out!
Rafe didn’t know that Mrs H was the boss. As far as he was concerned he was the boss. (In case you are unsure – I am not the boss; it’s much safer on the sidelines!) As far has Mrs H was concerned, she was the boss. But we all know there is only one winner here – and the name starts with the letter?…..yup no prizes for guessing correctly….
I might have “struggled” at times to comprehend exactly what sort of impact this bundle would have on our lives, but Mrs H has had to dig so deep at times, that she just might have touched the centre of the earth. And this is not to say Rafey is a “difficult” baby, quite the contrary – but his wellbeing (read survival) this past year has depended entirely on his Mum and that is not a job for which she can submit a leave request form. (Although if she asked me to sign one off now I would do it with pleasure – spa day or five Mrs H :)!) Motherhood is motherhard but also….Mega-rewarding!
And now it is one year on and the “baby festival” is well-and-truly underway! Mrs H’s family have come down from “the north” to celebrate with us. Rafey’s seven year old cousin Joshua (who I took out on a London boys’ trip about a year ago and who schooled me in rail safety and decorating pottery – all described in a prior post) continues to keep me on my toes. When he last stayed with us, I told him that we had a resident “Monster” in our basement, but not too worry because he was very shy and hardly ever appeared above ground. Kids have elephant-sized memories, because no sooner had he laid eyes on me on early Wednesday evening, than it was “Can we look for the monster?”….I was like…”…um….er…..okay….” and for the next few hours I called on all my creative reserves – JK Rowling style – to quench Joshua’s thirst for every detail about “Munsty’s” existence (Joshua didn’t think “James” was an appropriate name for a Monster). We were writing notes, leaving out beers (even Monsters need a drink), putting smarties in a bowl outside the basement door (some Monsters have a sweet tooth), discussing what he looked like (apparently a cross between a lion and a cheetah with frogs feet – ok), trying to communicate with him via the TV remote, confirming that he only came out at night – and most importantly that he was the house’s guardian and protected us from the foxes. By the time Joshie went to bed, my brain was empty but I had gathered enough material for a compendium of Monster stories!
Given that I try to keep these posts to about a thousand words – and I only have your attention for so long – the last few words should rightly be about the “man-of-the-moment!”
Happy Birthday my Beautiful Boy! Every day you surprise us – and make us laugh. I take for example your approach to your first birthday cake. When we all burst into song on your big day and Mrs H presented you with possibly her finest ever chocolate cake smothered in multi-coloured smarties, you looked totally bemused as if you couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. “Why are these deranged looking big people all shouting and pointing those screens in my direction and what on earth is Mum holding underneath my nose? Pass me my chicken-and-leek pie - stat!” Your expression was truly a Mastercard moment. That said once you had tasted Mrs H’s cake, you made exceptionally light work of it!
We both look forward to further magical times ahead – with hopefully a bit more sleep (if that’s ok with you!)
Much Love
Your parents Hoddy and Mrs H XX
Pics of the Week
No words needed!
