FLASHBACK! 26th June 2010. Zoo. Picture. Runabout. Nana. Ice-cream.

It was a lovely summer morning and we headed straight in to the zoo and got our picture taken at the entrance!

I wish I'd taken Jake's soother out only because he had the biggest smile. Look at those crinkly eyes, he's always so happy!

We went along checking out all the animals but I remember Jake just wanted to run around giggling as I chased him. He especially loved climbing on the raised ledges on the bridges, holding my hand and going "Whoa....whoaaaaaa" and laughing as he tripped every few seconds.

Then a familiar face appeared from the crowd...

Jake bolted straight over to his Nana and gave her a big hug. She looked delighted as he snuggled into her. It was beautiful.

We went along to the African Plains and we were checking out the giraffes and the like, while Jake had other things in mind.

Nom nom nom.

We picked up the photograph up top and the keyring and it was just a lovely day. Jake was so good, so happy, and so much fun. Nothing new there, but this day really sticks in my mind. Seeing him run to his Nana like that, makes me smile every time I think on it. 

Knowing he was so shy, and yet the shyness ran away when he saw her, the love he felt for her made him run right to her...

What a sweet little moment.

I remember the loud silly laughs coming out of him as he'd "run away"...which really meant he'd run ahead and look back to make sure his dad was chasing him. Something which still to this day makes him laugh out loud and me too.

I know this summer'll be even better, because this time he's big enough and bold enough to start saying the animal's names. 

When Jake was picked up by his Mommy, he still had a great big smile on his face.

I'll always treasure this day with my little boy Jake.

Friday and Saturday: Giggles and songs.

Friday afternoon:

Jake comes along with his grandad looking fairly relaxed. No soother, no crying! I'd suggested that, and it seems to have worked. Jake's grand! Got him to give his grandad a hug goodbye. Huge relief---it's the first time poor Jake hasn't cried a bit! I text his mom to tell her the good news, and then on we go.

We walk out with big grins. Me and Jakey, together again. We wave at the Luas. Dance to muzak in Londis.

Hometime. Curry-time. Bath-time.

After the bath, with him wrapped up in his hood-towel, I start to sing the Barney Song (the Jim El version), and for the first time ever, he joins in and knows every word. Bear in mind, this is my own edit/remix/reboot/ And he sings it word for word. I'm so proud!

Having Coco Pops, Jake reveals another trick: he can feed himself with right and left hands. He's ambidextrous!

After, he decided he'd stack his numbered cups on my head. I tilt my head sideways, he carries on. He's a bit hyper, excited or just nuts?

Best part of the night is when we're both in our PJs, on the couch. Thomas and Friends is on TV. Jake's tucking into banana bits. His hair still smells like Johnsons baby shampoo. It'sa perfect moment, and I don't want it to end. But it's late. And he's tired. And so am I!

To bed, and he insists he sleeps in daddy's bed. Okay, I won't argue. He has a tough journey every weekend. I oblige him. Jake brings his Cars Magna Doodle thing that my dad got him for Christmas---he loves it now, after having no interest for three months it is now his Favourite Toy! He lies on his side and scrawls funny shapes and drifts off asleep, and then so do I.

***

Saturday:

Sunshine! Brekkie and get ready early to go to the park. Both of us in almost-matching outfits.

Yup, I'm that dad.

Cool as ever!

Packed food, coats, toys, ball, and camera. Walking to the bus stop, I sang the Thomas tune, Jake bopped and hopped. 

A car zoomed by; Jake says, "Car! Vruumm!" Points at another car. Arm wiggles. "Vruumm!" Waves as it passes.

Bus to the shops. He points out a Bob the Builder mag, runs to it. I have to buy that. 

In the park, he strolls. I watch him do his thing. Smile and take pictures and say funny things to make him giggle and snort. We sit on a hilly bit, he eats Jelly Tots, I chill.

Then he plays with his new Bob toys, happy as can be.

On down to the playground. He goes on the slide, sends his new Bob toys (came with the mag) sliding down, then he follows them down. So confident and happy! He's growing quickly. Kicks a ball back to a little girl, then one of only a few tantrums because I won't let him swim in the pond.

"Splash!" he says, as convincingly as he can muster.

"Dirty water!" I say. "Not like the bath or like the pool. Dirty!"

Words don't work; he's persistent. I carry him on my shoulder, ignoring his protests, feeling bad about the tears, but knowing the alternative is a drenched little boy equally as upset. 

Plus, I have a secret weapon.

"Wanna kick the football?"

"Ball?" 

He's so innocent. All upset forgotten. Pond a distant memory. All there is now is the prospect of kicking a ball around on grass, and it is all he wants. So we do, and it's so much fun. He's laughing as he runs. He gets distracted by a mound of boulders, climbs up on small ones, and looks mildly disappointed when I take him back down to safer ground. (I spoil his fun a lot.)

He runs around. Makes a bombombom noise to himself. This is the noise I make when I carry him and bounce him. He's remembering everything now. Bombombom. He sings to himself and tries to walk a very narrow rail. It doesn't work out.

On the street, I say, "Hmmm...bus or train...?"
Jake says, "Train!"
"OK!"
"Choo choo!"
"Yup!"
"Beep beep!"
That makes us both chuckle.

We take the Luas to Jervis St, get some grub. Nice lady behind the counter brings us down our food and...gives him a toy! 

"Awwww. Say thank you."

"Thank you."

I don't know if she hears him but she sees him playing with the wind-up toy with a big happy face. 

Then onto Toymaster to get him 2 new Thomas toys. Well one: Toby. Harold, he had before, but I may have lost. Anyway, all sorted.

Across the quays for the bus home. Chemist along the way, for another little vaseline thing---his rash is still a bit irritated. I say "Hiya" to the lady behind the counter, and then from below comes a little voice:“Hiya!” He looks very happy. Early starter? Instant charmer.

Home-time. Liam's van is back. Jake missed him. Into the house and he's a bit shy but within a minute he's back playing with his trains with his Nana and new toys Toby and Harold. 

It's so much fun to watch him climb up onto the couch and then onto my lap to complete his mission: to stack all ten cups on my head. He's excited and determined, it's a mad little game and he loves it. He looks victorious when he gets all ten. I laugh and it takes all my effort to keep my wobbly bumpy head straight enough to keep them standing! 

Dinner-time, and he's delighted. After, he pours some water out of the glass and onto the dinner table and says “Splash!” We watch some of the rugby match and then back to trains. He loves his train set. It's his own little world. I often wonder is he a power-mad overlord in the making. Only time will tell...

I treat him to a bath. He's covered in little rashes on his poor little legs---must watch that. He does a lot of jumping and rolling during the day, could that be it? They look so bad on a little boy! He's grand though. He splashes about and then when he's done, I dry him in his cool blue hoodie-towelly thing I got him a few months back that still looks so cute on him. I remember when it was huge on him,now it's snug, soon it'll be too small. He's very good with the toothbrushing---no more wailing or crying (he used to hate it). Now he lets me scrub his little teeth with no complaint.

And then he says, "Deedee?"

"Sorry? What's deedee?"

"Shootee," he says, with conviction.

"Er. Sorry?"

"Shoo-tee." He's not impatient exactly; in fact it's like he's very calmly dealing with an eejit.

"...Nope. I still don't-"

"Shoo. Tee."

"...Emm..."

"SHOOTEE?"

Cue another minute of this. Then, eureka.

"Oh, soother!"

He's nearly ecstatic. Finally, Daddy's figured it out! “Yeah!”

I nod. "Say soother."

"Doodur?"

"Say soo."

"Soo..."

"Ther."

"Dur!"

"Soother."

"Soodur."

"Yes!"

I bring him into my room and get him into his comfy PJs and he looks so sleepy and content. 

He curls up on my bed and says, "Soothy."

"Soother."

"Soodur."

"OK, here you go."

I pop it in his gob and I pull the sheet over him and lie down beside him, his face to me, my arm round him. We're both warm and tired from a full day. I keep my eyes open, and watch him get sleepier. But he looks like at any moment he could spring back awake fully and demand we go back downstairs. So, a plan is needed.

"Will I sing you a song?"

"Mmm!"

(Soother in mouth, he tends to grunt. "Mmm!" is his way of saying yes.)

"What'll I sing?"

Takes me a minute to understand he wants the Barney song (the Jim El variation). I sing and he joins in just like last night. He keeps turning away and turning to look at me---possibly because the lamp is behind me, glowing into his eyes. He looks so cheery.

Afterwards: "Will I sing another song?"

"Mmm! Pooh!"

I sing it once and he stretches out one of his arms and puts his hand in mine and brings his cute face closer to me.

"Will I sing it again?"

"Mmm!"

I get halfway through and he joins in, and we're a bit giggly.

Third time round, I do a funny voice on the word "little" (it comes out really squeaky) and the two of us laugh out loud for ages. 

I try to start again and I can't, he's so funny! His eyes are squinty and his cheeks are flush with giggles and he has a big smile waiting for me to laugh, you can see the anticipation in his eyes...Any second now daddys gonna LAUGH!...and he's right, I can't help it, that face, he's brilliant! 

I manage to finish the song. Jake sighs and closes his eyes and falls asleep right then and there.

I stay there with him for half an hour, making sure he's OK. He jumps and twitches a few times and once, he opens his eyes. I whisper "It's OK, go back asleep," and he does. 

I drag myself to my feet, flick off the light, and leave him to his little dreams.

FLASHBACK! February 11th 2009. Couch. Feeding time, chitchat.

I remember sitting on the couch feeding Jake his goopy food (it really looked awful but he lapped it up!) and I just said, "Dada", and, well...

Adorable.

Sunday. Fun day. Home day.

Jake woke me up with a fairly hefty kick to the face. It was sort of funny for me; he couldn't stop laughing for ages. He very kindly pulled at my hands and face until I relented and got up. He had his quick read-through of my Michael Caine autobiography, then we had our breakfast/Winnie the Pooh thing. Bathtime---usual, him seeing just how much water can leave the bath and land on the floor. He did well. I was proud.

More of his new clothes---he loved his white t-shirt. It looked so comfy on him, and he had a big happy smile on his face wearing his cool new jeans.

Off to the shops, Jake was full of life. We got there and I recited the mini-shopping list. Milk, cheese, sugar. I'd get him to repeat after me: 

"Milk. Say...milk!""

"Milk!"

"Say...sugar!"

"Shoo...gur?"

"Yeah! Now, cheese!"

"Cheeeeeeeese!"

Full of giggles heading home--we took the scenic route. Up in my arms, making funny faces, running ahead, it never gets old. Back at the house he was running around the place. Running into his Nana with a big smile and full of hugs---he used to be so timid and shy, now he's King of his Castle.

Out the back garden, it was like a timewarp. I remembered him so much smaller, quieter, shyer, just wandering around the flowers, figuring it out, checking out the water feature, everything new.Now he was doing it all again, trying to take the water feature apart (funny how his Nana would've killed me for tampering with it but she looked absolutely delighted when he did it). 

"He's so big..." I only realised it. Last spring he was tiny compared to the flowers and pots and now he was a boy, not just a baby boy---a boy with a big heart. His Nana got him into his bike. I'm raging I didn't have the camera---such a big difference to last time.

Last time his feet were dangling, he could barely reach the pedals...

Jake, June 2010, still a baby boy...

This time he's confident and big and almost too big for the bike. Time flies!

Talking of time, it's an hour from dinner-time and Jake's tummy's grumbling so he gets his bowl of banana slices, and he's chuffed!

Big bowl of banana bits? YES PLEASE! 

More trains and silly games---he gets a lot of tickles, I must torment the poror fella, but I can't help it, he's hilarious when he laughs---and then he sees Nana placing the plates out. Runs over. Rubs his chest.

"Mmmmmmmm! Dinner!" He says it more like "dinn-nnuuur!" which is adorable. Big toothy smile. He's delighted. he loves his food. Tucks into it. We have more games, then it's changing/toothbrushing/leaving time.

Got him into his traveling clothes, all Thomas the Tank Engine. 

"Taww-ass?" (He struggles with his M's, poor dude!)

"Yeah!"

Nana gives him a big hug and says, "See you soon. I love you."

"Bye-bye!" He waves at her, eyes twinkling. I think he loves that he can really start to talk with us now. And he loves his Nana. "Byyyyyye byyyyye!"

We're walking out into the hall hand-in-hand and he's still waving...out onto the driveway and he's walking backwards, waving, "Byyyye-byyyyeee! Layyyy-turrrr!" 

On the bus he's the most behaved little boy I've ever seen/heard. He's happy to just look out the window or smile when I make funny voices. We jump out after the Ha'penny Bridge and drop into the chemist for Vaseline---he's a nasty rash on his little face and the nice chemist lady offers him a lollipop.

He looks at it, shakes his head and smiles at her. "No..." Fair enough!

On we goto the walkway along the Quays, headed for our bus-stop. On the walkway I manage to get two lovely pictures...

Jake loves a good run. If this picture had audio, you'd hear him giggling as he went.

Me and my best little friend Jake. I really love this picture.

And this one, though I'm not sure...the poor lad looks like he'd rather keep walking...

I must drive the poor bugger nuts.

The Wexford bus arrives. On our way, I show him the pictures; he lights up, loves them. I ask him:


"Can you say Winnie?"

"Winnnn-ie."

"Can you say...owl?"

"Owwwwwwwwwl."

"Can you say...Eeyore?"

With a great big smile: "EEEEEEEEEEEE-YOOOOOOOOOOORE!"

He spends the next ten minutes shouting the name; he loves it, loves how I can do the deep voice, but even I'm going a bit batty after a while. So I shush him a little and he whispers the name. He seems a bit restless; I put him on my lap and we look out the front window, watching the sky turn dark slowly but surely. We see something we hadn't seen before, because it had been too dark:

Big wind farm, blades spinning slowly, all balck against the blue. They look weird; we're both staring slack-jawed.

Jake's so patient. I'd get very bored if I were him but he's different; he's a really good boy. I snuggle him to my chest and tell him: "Jakey, you are such a good boy, you know that?"

Then: "You gonna give your Mammy a great big hug when you see her?"

He nods excitedly. "Yeah."

"And a great big kiss too?"

Again, big grin. "Yeah."

"Cos she loves you very much and is dying to give you a Big Hug."

He tucks his arms into himself and smiles, all excited, and it's so cute to see.


Gorey comes up fast. Jumper, scarf, jacket, dropoff.

"There's your Mammy!"

He gives her a hug, I give him a wave. "Bye, Jake!"

He smiles back, "Bye!"


Always so happy, his little face, lit up, loved up, always making me proud.

Facebook Comment. 24th January 2011. Sad and glad. Proud.

Sunday nights are always a bit lonely without Jake.
So I went on facebook and said how I felt:

First post! Cartoons and cuddles. Drool-face. Jake's loving his new swag. Rock star.

Been pondering doing a Dear Diary type thingy for a long time now, just to collect all my thoughts and memories and stuff with my little boy Jake. Then I thought: Hey! Online blog! Pics! Yes! 

So here we are.

Woke up this morning to his big happy smile. We watched some cartoons, he had his toast and Coco Pops, then bath-time (always splashy and loud ha!), and now for the drum-roll: his new clothes. Mostly Penneys but really snug, I loved buying them and I loved showing them to him. Best of all, his Bob the Builder t-shirt. He actually went wide-eyed when I held it up for him, he sucked in a big breath and whispered, "Bobbb!" and ran over with a big grin to see it.

I popped some Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin on, knowing full well what it'll do to Jake, and I'm right. Instantly he's jumping up and down, headbanging and wailing along. It's legendary. My little rockstar, already cooler than me, and just as bonkers. I join in in the headbanging, swinging my head around like a mallet, and he adores this, kicking his little feet into the air to get every last chuckle out.

He got all excited as I helped him into his new garb. Check him out, all proud of himself (and rightly so).

Here we have Jake in his two-tone-grey ensemble.
We've got the fleece with warm inner lining, and handy pocket detail.
Chic darker grey cords, comfortable AND suave!
Then we've the all-purpose runners, perfect for every occasion.
And finally note the powerful yellow Bob t-shirt, a nice exclamation mark to the world of fashion.
Swit-swoooo!

I pop some music onto the radio and on comes Lola by the Kinks. I start doing some silly-billy dancing and he drops his toys and joins me. I take his little hands and we dance like crazed hillbillies, big toothy smiles on our faces, he starts giggling and so do I: we must've looked a right pair. Deadly.

Soon after, he's lying on the kitchen floor rearranging his army of trains on his train-tracks going Ahhhhhhhh-AAAAAHHHHHHH! I'm not worried. I know he's imitating The Immigrant Song.

Out to the shops for his favourite stuff: milk! (That's how he says it: Milk!) and within five minutes, it's raining. I'm thinking: Turn back? But he looks up at me with his big bright eyes and smiles and keeps plodding along. 

What was I thinking? Jake's a top trooper.

We saw a big tough-as-nails dog along the way, its owner close-by (chopping at wayward branches, his own little one watching intently). Jake said loudly, "Woof woof," and grinned. And so did I.

That happens a lot. They say kids imitate us. I think it goes both ways.

On the way back he does his sly slow-down, stop, look at me out of the corner of his eye then RUN-thing. Which I find equal parts hilarious and terrifying. I think he knows this. It must be what makes him run so fast and laugh so loudly. He's a funny boy.

Hometime, back at the ranch, dinner's nearly here. He's back idly playing with his extensive set of trains on the Brio train-set. (I loved mine when I was a kid, and mine consisted of one circular track. Not that I'm ungrateful, it did me fine, but I smile when I think of how the simplest things can entertain kids.) The bell rings; he looks at me. "Pizza?"

How'd he know?

Dominos, a rare treat, mmm, me, Jake and his Nana all stuffing our faces around the dinner table. Afterwards, we're all a bit sleepy, but that doesn't stop Jake running into the living room to his Nana easily twenty times, arms out for a hug. He's way more confident and happy now. This is his second home, and he knows he's a loveable little man.

Time flies. Cartoons keep us occupied. It's bitter and rainy out there. We could have gone to the park, but I wanted a lazy day with him, and I'm glad. Because he's learning to tolerate me grabbing and squeezing him tight, smothering him in kisses. He's OK with that. Or he's resigned himself to it.

Either way, I win. Daddy 1 - Jake 0.

It gets late. Always feel a bit sad Saturday evenings. It's our only full day, Saturday. Friday's a glimpse and a snooze. Sunday's wake-up, dinner, long trip to Gorey. Saturday's our only Real Day Without Interruption. We made the most of it though. Many toy trains travelled. Lots of toys got attention. Winnie the Pooh and Thomas had their weekly run-through. 

I bring him up for story-time. Lo and behold, he doesn't want Mr Grumpy. Nope, it's Mr Brave. I do the faces and the voices, while he nearly explodes with laughter. Little red-face, he's barely breathing with the laughs. I love him. Story finishes, and you can tell he was only getting started...

Jake's tired, but not tired enough. Trip to bed and back down again. Nana offers him a banana; he hesitates; and boom, a big smile, he stuffs his little belly.

I bring him upstairs to my bed this time; he doesn't seem keen on the cot anymore. He lies down when I start singing his favourite Pooh song. He starts to drift off. I tuck him in and watch as his lids fall and he drifts away asleep. I stay there for ages just watching him sleep, marveling at how much fun one little person can be.