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.