Smile Train Dinner

As I mentioned yesterday we have received a very nicely put together invite package to the Smile Train 10th year celebration dinner. Personally signed by Brian, the invite explains that the organisation doesn't have much time for parties on account of how busy they are fixing the world's smiles, one at a time. And the stats prove it's true. I've mentioned on here how the Smile Train have made over half a million cleft repair operations possible in just 10 years but the most interesting fact, I believe, is this one;

"This year the Smile Train will be able to fix more clefts in India and China than the amount of babies born with one"

I had to read that a couple of times because it's hard to believe, especially when you consider than nearly 1 Chinese household in 10 is affected by a birth defect. Granted not all, or even the majority will be clefts but it's a huge number all the same. And that's just China, India will have similarly alarming figures. Plus, don't forget, the Smile Train won't just be working in these two countries; they'll be helping thousands of others in more than 75 of the world's poorest countries as well.

Anyway, back to the point, which is that in China and India, the Smile Train, after only ten years will actually be helping now to reduce the overall number of children born with clefts and people who have suffered with them all of their lives. That really is incredible in the true sense of the word. Has ever a charity after such a short period of time achieved such a massive turnaround, achieved a level of success which matches its original goals so closely? I don't know but I can't think many would have.

I don't have any hard facts to hand but can you imagine where we might be in another 10 years? There is obviously still a huge worldwide backlog but talk about 'we're getting there'. That used to be British Rail's slogan which was rightly mocked and ridiculed but here's an organisation that could absolutely claim it.

I'm sure if you talked to anyone at Smile Train and especially Brian, they'd tell you that this is still the beginning, the surface is only just scratched but in terms of stage one we must surely be approaching job done? Conceivably there could come a situation actually in our life time when globally the number of unrepaired clefts could be dwindling and when the problem becomes 'contained'. A time even when there are no unrepaired clefts left and where the only operations left to do are those we don't need yet i.e for babies yet to be born. Perhaps I'm being naive with enormous rose tinted glasses on but this is surely the original driving force and motivation behind the doctrine of the Smile Train's philosophy. This would actually mean that fewer surgeons would be needed. Ironically the more successful the Smile Train is, the smaller it could become, the polar opposite of every other aspirational, ambitious enterprise. And that must be the overall goal for every charity, to no longer be needed. The difference is this charity could achieve it, or something very close to it. I admit this is pretty flippant, to suggest that such an important organisation which has and will have done so much to no longer be needed to be around but it is a point worth making.

The final thought I have is that, whilst the stats on the 500,000 ops to date are impressive the effects must reach so much further. For every family who benefits directly by having a cleft-affected member fixed, there will be those around that family who learn and share with others. Those other people will know others affected and can pass on the word of this organisation doing good things. That will give hope and understanding. Imagine that for every operation one community learns that a) pregnant mothers ought to take follic acid where before they'd have no clue b) there's a possibility that child / adult b,c, and d in their midst may be operated on free of charge and soon, and that most importantly c) a cleft is not something to be ashamed of, it is what it is, get over it.

So when you add it all up, 500,000 is really the tip of an enormous worldwide iceberg.

Just like the old days. Sort of...

So we got back from Spain on Friday and had a really nice time. Our friends, Sarah and Hamish, along with Sadie, their beautiful seven month old baby and Sarah's dad (sorry don't know his age) had been at the villa for a week beforehand and then Sarah's father went home and we joined the three remaining Tullochs. We've been to the villa a few times with them and there are a few special moments of each day that we all remember fondly. These include the morning breakfast followed by sunbathing session, Hamish and me playing table tennis in the garage or kerbie (where you have to bounce a ball off the opposite side of the pool so you can catch the rebound, ideally without having to jump in to do so), eating at the beach and most of all, watching the sun go down with a glass or two whilst the bbq is getting up to temperature.

For the most part we got to do all of that so it felt just like the good old days. Holidaying with kids isn't so much hassle at all when you're with friends and the space to get on with it. Having the villa makes like so much easier, I think a hotel holiday is some years off for us just because of the logistics of it all. In a villa you're at home...make as much mess and noise as you want and spread out without worrying about the other guests and how pissed off they're getting.

I love the idea of going on a Mark Warner type holiday when they're older so they can meet other children in kids' clubs but for now, until they'll actually remember I can't really see the point in the extra money. Jake has less than a year of free (still £25) flying left so we need to make the most of it. He's been on six flights in his short life so far and even though he had a few moments on the way home, he was been as good as gold as we could have hoped for.

I used to get so stressed in airports to my lack of patience but now, because I know that things will be more difficult, I've chilled out a lot. Travelling with kids is basically as much hassle as you want to make it; by accepting that there's more stuff and things will take longer you can actually make it a lot easier. Getting wound up and shouting a lot (very much my previous M.O) just winds you up even more. I'm really pleased (smug even) that I've managed to calm down (with the exception of my ridiculous over charging by Ryan Air) whilst going through airports. Maybe I've matured or maybe the bastards have just ground me down.

We took Jake to the beach a couple of times, the second more successful than the first as it wasn't quite so sweltering. He could crawl along - forgot to mention that he learnt to do proper grown up hands and knees crawling while we were on holiday - almost until he was at someone else's sun lounger before we'd have to go get him. He did put his entire face in the sand at one point but this taught him that sand doesn't taste too good and tends also to block the nose.

He had a cold virtually all week but seemed in good spirits as did Sadie. They both slept well on the whole and I think the pair of them got something from spending lots of time together. I think they'll be great friends and I cannot wait to see them wanting to spend all day long on the beach while Hamish and I sit watching them all day from the bar!

I remember writing in this post about how the new Spain, i.e the one with Jake wasn't as much fun as the old Spain, the Peseta one. Well it's still not the same but then neither are any of us. In fact I don't think we'd have wanted to go to the foam party last week anyway. It was nice to wake up without a hangover (or at least with one which only lasted an hour or two) and this is basically because instead of opening bottles three and four and turning in at 3am, we were all sound asleep by midnight. It sounds sad and I do wish we were a bit crazier but when you know you're only ever a scream away from a 5am start to your day, the motivation to stay up all night tends to wane somewhat.

Anyway, it was a great trip and exactly what I needed after the weekend of drunkenness in Ibiza the week before. It's going to be brilliant to go back year after year and see how Jake's take on our favourite part of the world develops.

I'll post some photos when I get a minute.

In other news we got our official invite to the Smile Train evening whilst we were away and we're very much looking forward to it. More about that in the run up to the event.

Yesterday was also the combined NCT babies first birthday party. Time truly has flown, we've know these seven other couples for well over a year now and it feels like a lot longer in some cases. I know I've said it a few times, but it really was the best thing we could have done to find so many decent, like minded people going through the same period of their lives at the same time as us.

Lastly, and by far most importantly, our great friends Rob and Josie had their second boy pop into the world last week. So hello to George Jacobs, (already sounds like a proper, traditional English gent) and congratulations to Rob and Josie but also to Oliver who has a little brother to boss around. It looks, like predicted at their scans, that George has Down's Syndrome. More about that later as I want to learn about it, however the Jacobs' are well ready for this. Their journey, whilst certainly different to that of others at times, will be just as engaging, hard work, wonderful, emotionally draining and ultimately rewarding as any other. Good luck to them.

Poo Pants is 1!!!

What a difference a year makes. At 10.40am September 8th 2008, Clare was just an hour away from starting to push. We'd gone into hospital at midnight and she was about 4cm dilated and we were sent straight into the maternity room. The realisation that this was 'it' was a scary and exciting time. As Jake was on his way 2 weeks early, I was in denial right up until the ward sister told us we were in the right place and a baby was happening. I'd been convinced we would be sent on our way to sit it out. I didn't want that so I was pleased with the news.

Clare had an epidural at around 3am and for the next 9 hours we waited, got some sleep, chatted and made a few calls. I think it was midday when the midwife instructed her to start pushing. An hour and a half in I was told to get scrubbed up and into my blues as Clare was busy signing consent forms and being prepared for theatre. The ventouse was an option but they decided she was too far along and needed to conserve energy and went straight for the dreaded forceps.

I'll never forget the emotions I was feeling before Jake was born, quivering with emotion, drained and utterly worried. I hate hospitals and was concerned that things weren't going exactly according to plan. The feeling which will stay strongest with me though, was when he was pulled out and unceremoniously dangled in front of us.

'It's a boy'.

In all it's cliched glory, that phrase spouted triumphantly from me and the pair of us burst into tears while the maternity staff cleaned him up. He was given to me whilst Clare was being seen to and I sat there, Jake - even before he was Jake - cradled in my arms, staring at me and me staring back with utter wonder, exhilaration, relief and love. I remember looking right past the cleft, no longer worrying about what had been worrying us for so long, just concentrating on his beautiful little face.

UPDATE: In the last few weeks I have learned that my darling wife felt my emotional outpouring at the birth of our first child made me sound like, and I quote, 'a pansy'! I'll admit to being overwhelmed and was indeed rather tearful but I am still puzzled at this. I could have been a typical alpha male, defined by my stoicism and simply expected (and therefore got) my son and heir to pop into the world. We'd have all had a cup of tea and been home in time for bed. But, no, I cried tears of joy and relief when my son was born, yet 'er indoors thinks this makes me less of a man. Well boo to her! Women eh?

It's a real rite of passage being present at the birth of your first child. Something which changes you irreversibly forever. It'd been patronising to say it's what changes you from boy to man - many things do that - but becoming a father, for me at least, changed me in a heartbeat. I definitely recommend it, even it is the single most scary thing one can endure.

Since then a wee bit has happened. After all the sleepless nights, crying for hours on end, Clare having to endure the breast pump, the consultations, the horrible operations, I can say it's all been worth it 110% and I'd it again tomorrow.

Over the last few weeks, days even, Jake has transformed. He's like a greased weasel cruising around the lounge, he's making new babbling noises, he's had his first day at nursery and today is 1.

I went to Ibiza at the weekend for a stag do and it's the longest I've been away since he was born. I really missed him, it sounds dramatic but it almost hurt and to get back and see him and Clare yesterday was awesome, felt like a real family home coming. I was very jaded after a weekend of partying though!

So, Jake, Happy Birthday son and thanks for an incredible year - even the sleepless nights - and here's to all the exciting times ahead.

Love Daddy

Interview with Brian Mullaney

I've always thought of myself as an ideas man with something of an entrepreneurial mindset. However the more things I try which don't come to fruition only serve to weaken my motivation, undermine my resolve. That said, real entrepreneurs need failure.

In the States, a failed business is almost a prerequisite for future success. It's worn like a badge of honour, stripes earned in the hard battle of business. In the UK, people who start a business which fails are seen by some as fools, yet those who enjoy even a modicum of success are revered by the same people. Many of the wealthiest self-starters have been bust, dusted themselves down and succeeded at the next attempt, or third or fourth. The desire or need to succeed is the driving force and what sets them apart from those happy in employment and especially those unhappy in employment whilst wishing they had the gumption to break free.

The UK and especially the UK press, loves a failure; easier to mock having never tried than to try, fail and risk being mocked. It's pretty negative when you consider how many people think or believe they have a business in them. Americans get a bad wrap when it comes to their patriotism, jocks chanting 'U.S.A, U.S.A...' don't help, but the American Dream and all it stands for drives many regular Joes to become pretty special Joes. A lack of formal class system may help; every man is born equal. Of course all men are not born equal but the belief of a level playing field is a great motivator when the gun goes off.

It bothers me, having had a small business (which didn't necessarily fail insofar as I got a reasonable price for it) that didn't set the world alight, my motivation to do it all again is waning. I remember when setting up Studley's how pumped up I was that I was doing something I enjoyed and that I was in charge and that it was all my own work and what the future might hold. It ran for just under 18 months and I had the most stressful but fulfilling time. Not financially fulfilling I might add but I did get a lot of satisfaction. I sold because I lost my nerve and needed the money; a proper entrepreneur would have remortgaged and cracked on. Who knows where he'd have got - the guy I sold it to shut up shop 6 months after I assigned the lease and he was selling all the types of stuff my doubters were encouraging me to sell.

Anyway, I'm writing all this because of an interview I just read with Brian Mullaney, the founder of The Smile Train. The Smile Train posted the link on Twitter and, as he will be at the dinner we're invited to in October I thought it would be a good opportunity to find out about the man. To say he's been successful is an understatement. It seems like he's very persuasive and got a lot of very influential people on board. He started an ad agency, ran it for six years, made so much money he could do pretty much whatever he wanted. Instead of buying the boat and joining the golf club he decided to start a charity. He runs it just like a business though, hiring and firing, paying proper rates for good people and ultimately he raises $100m a year and has just 42 staff. To date his organisation has fixed over 500,000 smiles which makes him not just an entrepreneurial businessman, but also something of a philanthropist and inspiration. I'm sure he pays himself well but why the hell not, I think he probably deserves it!

Success isn't defined by starting the next Web 2.0 hit or making a million dollar bonus in the city, it's about believing in what you're doing, acheiving your goals - whatever they are - and then acheiving some more and never giving up.

The full article is here.

Now I know

Growing up there were a few stories my folks told me about near death experiences my sister and I went through. There was one where my parents both felt something was wrong upstairs; a sixth sense, intuition, call it what you want but they got to my sister's room and she'd turned blue. My dad picked her up and gave the good old fashioned slap and blue turned back to pink. Horrible stuff.

Then there was the time, as a 3 year old I casually climbed onto the window sill of my first floor bedroom and was happily playing whilst looking out of the open window. Seeing me, my sister quickly went downstairs to fetch my parents, who rushed back upstairs and plucked me from my perch before I plopped out and changed history.

The most told story is one involving a boiled sweet. The kind of sweet you don't give to small children. Happily sucking away, I must have sucked a wee bit too hard just at the time the sweet had sufficiently reduced in size and at its slipperiest and it got stuck. I'm told I started choking and waving frantically. Blinded by panic, my mum screamed for Len, our ageing builder at the time, who promptly turned me upside down and administered an almighty whack which dislodged the sweet and allowed me to start breathing again.

Whilst interested, I guess I always dismissed the stories as moments in my life like the first day at a new school or removing the stabilisers. It wasn't until yesterday, I realised how my parents would have felt or the potential alternative route things may have taken, had the correct action not been taken or worked properly.

I mentioned that Jake had taken his first steps on yesterday's post and now we're encouraging him to try it on his own, get more confidence. I was home at lunchtime yesterday and he was standing next to his cot and holding on to the bars. As a test I got one of his favourite toys (moo cow) and sat on the bed opposite, beckoning. To my amazement, he let go of the bars and walked directly over to me and his bovine prize. I walked him straight away to go to tell mummy who was hovering our bathroom. I propped him up against our bed and was telling her all about this genius she bore when I heard a huge thud.

Jake had started walking along the side of the bed until he got to the bit which is covered with a sort of silk throw thing which covers the duvet. This tends to slide off our bed during the night as it is pretty lightweight, so it's not much surprise that Jake grabbing it would have the same result. Problem was that he was balancing off of it.

Ordinarily when he falls over, there's a split second and the crying and tears start. This time, nothing, I picked him and he made the face I never want to see again. It's the face he pulls when he's about to unleash hell. Mouth open, red face, wide eyes, lungs full and poised. As I held him up it was as if he'd been frozen in time. For what was about 5 seconds, but felt considerably longer, he held the pre-scream look. Didn't blink, breathe or move a muscle. We instantly knew this was a worse than usual bang to the head. I moved him into my arms and he went from bright red to milk white, his eyes rolling back in his head. His breathing was going from not at all to shallow half breaths. We were quickly onto 999 and trying to hold it together. Adrenalin kicked in and we were both shaking.

The operator told us to lie him down and as I put him on the sofa the scream came. To say I was relieved to hear it is a huge understatement. Crying equals breathing and breathing equals, among other things, not dying. The ambulance turned up a few minutes later and by the time the paramedics came in, he was even half smiling. We felt a bit fraudulent but they said we'd done the right thing and they took him to hospital for the relevant checks. After two rounds of eye, blood, oxygen and head massage checks, naturally separated by a three hour wait in a sweaty pediatric A & E unit, he was given the all clear and we went on our way.

Considering how much hospital time we've had, this was the first unplanned 'emergency' visit we've made. I know some people seem to live at A & E just for a bruised knee or a runny nose, but that's what it's there for and you only get to experience how good the system is when you need it most.

So there's the first story we'll be boring Jake with when he gets older. The first of many he won't really appreciate until his first born goes arse over tit and smashes his head on the floor.

Jake's first steps

We had one of those moments on Saturday. One of the moments you'll remember forever and one you'll always remember where you were when it happened. The older generation always refer to the remembering where they were when they heard about JFK's assassination. We'll all remember where it was we heard about the twin towers. But more importantly for us, we'll remember the living room at 7 Artillery Terrace.

It was there that our beloved boy took his first solo steps. I reckon he could have done it any time over the last few weeks since he's been cruising and holding on to stuff since then. All I did was let go (I'm sure there's some deep metaphor here). He had two choices. Fall over or walk. And he walked!

O.K, he didn't exactly jump to his feet and start wandering around, but he did walk. On his own from A to B. A being next to the footstall and B being me. It was brilliant, Clare and I looked at each other in amazement. Almost as if we'd just had our Eureka moment, where we'd discovered gold or that our boy was the first human to ever walk upright. I know after a few weeks the novelty will fade but it's important to cherish these moments and remember how we felt.

Of course everyone is now telling us this is where the fun starts and life will get more difficult the more mobile he becomes but so what, our boy walked before his first birthday and I'm Proud Dad!

Here he is, the clever little thing...

Callum is 1!

It was over a year ago that I wrote this post, predicting what our fellow NCT'ers would be like. It seems crazy to me that the first of our crop is now entering his second year. Callum was born 6 weeks ahead of schedule and Jodi and Duncan won the 'first parents' cup. It was obviously a worrying time for them as he was in the special care unit for a few weeks. But before long he was home in time for his new friends to start popping into the world.

It's been brilliant to have the instant network the NCT group created. The girls see each other more than the boys do but we meet up regularlyish and I play squash with a few of them most weeks. When we moved to Guildford we had no pals on the doorstep, now we have 7 other couples, many of whom we see more than friends we've know our whole lives. So here I am, a converted cynic, happy to be proven wrong.

We spent yesterday afternoon in the sunshine at Jodi and Duncan's enjoying BBQ and a few beers. Jake's 1st birthday party will be a more sedate affair with just a few f&f as it's a Tuesday and our garden is tiny. The party is Tuesday 8th September. The day after I get back from a 3 day stag do on Ibiza....I'm glad my video camera has an anti shake feature.

New dads are all the same aren't they?

It's always refreshing when you meet someone who thinks the same way as you. Regardless of what it is, the fact that they share your take on a given subject helps to remove any doubt as well as vindicating your original stance.

A few weeks back I was one of many recipients of an email sent by a former colleague. The subject was 'wah, wah'. The last time I met up with my old work friend was for a pint a few weeks after he'd broken his leg on a corporate paint balling day. I felt bad as he came along even though he'd already started his new job. He broke his leg 5 minutes into the first game and then spent 8 weeks at home whilst being paid by the new company. I felt sorry for them but also slightly glad it wasn't us footing the bill, even though it was kind of our fault. Anyway I digress. When we met up, he told me how much he wanted to start a family with his girlfriend of 10 years or so. Apparently she was having none of it. Happy with him but didn't fancy the whole wedding and baby thing.

I clicked the email right away predicting the news about a pregnancy and was thinking what to write back, along the lines of 'well done for persuading the missus, mate', only to discover a picture of his brand new baby girl! Blimey, I thought (blimey!), that was quick. But in reality it was probably 10 or 11 months since we'd met or even spoken so technically this was all very possible. It made me feel a bit guilty that I hadn't had the slightest contact with a guy who lives 4 roads away. I have been reasonably busy to be fair.

Cut to this morning, 5 weeks later and I bump into a guy I recognised but looking about as tired as man can get and significantly older.

"How you doing? How's baby?" I say.

"This parent thing. It's seriously overrated" he says.

Found it very funny that, after hearing so many other new dads cooing and resolutely refusing to see any sort of downside to new fatherhood, that there was someone willing to be honest about it all. It didn't seem to be an overreaction either, he genuinely looked like a beaten man. He went on, I have to say, to coo and say how wonderful it was, but for the most part he seemed to be held together by coffee and adrenalin.

Cleft and operations aside, our experience has been virtually the same as everyone else's. Just the little nuances which serve to make us all different separate us from them and them from us. Jake wasn't a good sleeper (I think I mentioned it once or twice) but other than that his first few months were straight from the text book. I found it difficult and wonderful in different measures depending on when you asked me. The overriding emotion was always positive but it's still hard work counting your chickens at 2, 3, 5 and 6 in the morning when you've got a pitch to present.

Anyway the point is, that I mentioned to him that Jake had started sleeping properly (and by properly I mean until 6am) from 8 or 9 months and he looked genuinely crest fallen. I remember being told the same thing by friends when the situation was reversed and 8 or 9 months seemed a long, long way away.

Already the memory of preparing 3 bottles every night, arguing about whose turn it was, the relentless lack of sleep, is starting to fade and I guess that's one of the reasons most people have 2 kids and stop there. Doing anything that hard for just one last time never seems too bad so as you'd not do it. Having just the one, I think, would always leave you thinking that you ought to have one more but I don't think that you'd feel the pressure to add a third, having had two. Those that have a big enough house, plenty of money or a few masochistic tendencies may want to crack on and have 3, 4 and 5 and good luck to them. I'd like to think that we'd pause after two and then go for the third but it'll definitely depend on how number two sleeps in the early days.

Reading this back make it look like Clare's pregnant or that we're 'trying' but I can assure you that isn't the case. The next major box which needs ticking is one regarding accommodation and logistics. Once that's dealt with we'll see. For now I'm just happy to be enjoying time with my boy, seeing him develop at a million miles an hour and getting enough kipat long, long last!

Honoured and humbled

Back when I started this blog, I never imagined anything would come of it. I wasn't after anything in particular, other than getting thoughts and emotions out of my system. It was encouragement and feedback which kept me motivated to write it, but never did I think it would take me anywhere. And to be fair, it still hasn't. But it might.

This morning I received an email from one of the UK managers at the Smile Train inviting Clare and me to a dinner in October at the Berkeley, no less, being held;

'as a thank you for our supporters and also a chance to celebrate some of our recent achievements - Smile Pinki's Oscar, our 500,000th corrective cleft surgery, and 10 years providing children with free cleft care.'

My name was suggested to Smile Train when organising the event by Martin Moodie, who I first wrote about on this post. We never did do any business with Martin but we've emailed a time or two about Jake and how he's doing, but I never thought something like this would happen. You might think this sounds over the top - it's just a charity event - but actually it's not just a charity event, it's an event for a charity that I really believe in, and that is something I never thought I'd say. I used to give a fiver a month to a charity for the blind after being door stepped 10 or so years ago. I thought it made sense as I have crappy eye sight and felt I might one day need their help. I guess I felt an affinity with the charity and in fairness, it was only a fiver. That said it was a pretty one sided relationship; money out, statement, not much else. Maybe giving a monthly donation, albeit tiny, made me feel better about myself and justify any personal shortcomings. Beyond that, nothing.

When I started reading about the Smile Train, I was intrigued, obviously, but due to a combination of the coincidence with Martin, all of my research on clefts, our experiences with Jake and the proactive approach the Smile Train take (such as the letter from Brian, the tweeting etc), I found myself feeling more a part of the whole process rather than one of many important, yet essentially impotent contributors. And that's an affinity.

I keep thinking that one day I'd like to go and have a look at what they do in the places they do it and then I think I'm not that sort of person. Maybe I'm not that sort of person, or maybe I'm not that sort of person yet but might be one day! Who knows?

Anyway, I'm really looking forward to the evening to find out more (like who does the tweeting for one!) and help celebrate with them, maybe even brush shoulders with Brian and especially to say thanks to Martin.

It's on the 8th of October so I'll do a full report the day (or so) after.

Not long now

Jake can now get round the living room on his own, going from sofa to footstool to radiator to TV unit to fireplace to chair. He's quite the little mover and has also learnt to go from prone to lying on his back to sitting up. He can obviously pull himself up but the last piece to jigsaw is standing up unaided from a seated position. Once he's mastered the stand, he'll be ready to learn the art of the toddle.

Amongst his NCT friends, I believe he was first out of the blocks in terms of forward momentum but always as army crawl. Over the last few weeks some of his litttle pals have all started proper grownup crawling, using knees and palms. Naturally my competitive Dad syndrome has reemerged and therefore it is vital that he starts to walk as soon as possible! And I'm only half joking!

I reckon he's a couple of months away but he's definitely getting stronger on his feet and we can walk him one-handed now for a while before he collapses. We're off to Spain with Sarah, Hamish and baby Sadie in September and for once, I'd welcome a dollop of sod's law which means he starts to walk on his own just as we try to relax next to the pool. Holidays will all be about keeping an eye on Jake, hard surfaces and deep water from now on.

Relax? Are you kidding?!

A tribute to Walter Cronkite

I got an email from Brian Mullaney, founder of The Smile Train last week and thought I would post it here. Although most Brits will have heard the name, most don't know who he was or what he stood for in the states.

He was a journalist and broadcaster from the old school, not the modern day world of E! front men and women who just care for the latest celebrity gossip.

I think lots of people from outside the USA look down their noses at Americans as crass, overweight and loud individuals who do not realise that there is a world beyind their shores, but by all accounts Walter Cronkite was an intelligent, hardworking and thoughtful man as well as a consumate professional.

He was the classic network anchorman and broke some of the biggest stories of the 20th century. He was known as the 'most trusted man in America', a bit like our Trevor McDonald and then some.

When I was younger I wanted to be a journalist and writer and so I had come across his name and seen some of his work but I had no idea he'd done work for the Smile Train. He's gone even further up in my estimation. Here's the email.

Hi,

The Smile Train lost a very good friend when Walter Cronkite passed away recently.

10 years ago when we started The Smile Train, Walter was one of the very first to get on board.

Many years ago I remember vividly meeting with him for the first time in his office and talking about what we were trying to do.

Always the reporter, he started quizzing me about what causes clefts, where are they most prevalent, why can’t a cure be found that would prevent them, etc. He was in his 80s at this point but he was sharp as a tack. I was kind of surprised at how interested he was in what we were doing and even more so at how much he wanted to help us.

When I explained to him how tragic it was that there were millions of children with unrepaired clefts in developing countries who were not being helped solely because they were too poor to afford surgery, he said it was a “Story that was almost too sad to tell.”

After watching videos of children with clefts that I had brought along, he shook his head and said it was “just heartbreaking.”

As I sat there speaking with him I looked around his office and saw photos, newspaper front pages and headlines of many of the biggest events that have happened in America and the world over the past 50 years. Walter was front and center at each and every one of them: JFK’s assassination, man on the moon, Vietnam, Watergate, The Berlin Wall, etc. I felt like I was in a museum and sitting across the desk from an American Institution.

When Walter agreed to appear in our very first Smile Train video, we were so honored and excited to have "the most trusted man in America" helping us. (If you want to see the video he did for us, Click Here)

And help us he did, in many ways, for more than 10 years.

Altogether, Walter Cronkite helped us provide free cleft surgery for more than 524,000 children who would otherwise never have received it.

And a few months ago when our documentary Smile Pinki won an Oscar, one of the first emails we received was from Walter congratulating us and saying how proud he was to have helped us launch The Smile Train.

He was a great man.

And we will miss him.

Brian

P.S. We have posted a special tribute to Walter on our home page, to thank him for everything he did for us. Click here to view the tribute.

Result!

Jake got the all clear! Perhaps I was wrong to be a pessimist after all!

Prof Haers had a good old look in Jake's mouth and is really pleased with the healing process, couldn't see any sort of abnormality or failed repair and has effectively signed us off until Spetmber 2010. We spoke about the sneezing and the food coming out of the nose but he said that as long as it was the sneeze that was propelling the food and not the lack of palate being in the way, it wasn't a problem. The fact is that he only had the operation 5 weeks ago and so things are still healing, repairing etc and therefore it is likely that his food will be irritating him a bit, hence the sneezing. It's been a while since food came out of my nose but I remember a good sneeze is what caused it.

So it seems that we're genuinely at the end of the significant part of the surgery process and the next one won't be for at least 7 years, which is very long time away.

We have to keep his teeth as clean as possible with regular (free of charge) dentist check ups which is just the same for any other kid. Also we'll be seeing more of the speech therapist starting in around 6 months time. This is another very important part of development but at least it doesn't involve a scalpel or waiting around in hospitals for days on end. Also loads of kids have speech therapy, I know of one right now who is two and hasn't spoken a word yet. He will, of course and that's what the system is there for; because we're all different and do things in our own good time.

I had Jake to myself yesterday afternoon as Clare had to work and it was good fun mucking about with him, he's becoming a real laugh. I found a spot on his shoulder blade which makes him laugh uncontrollably and exploited it to the full. He's crawling everywhere now, (although still doesn't realise how much quicker it would be on his hands and knees than dragging himself along) and I reckon he'll be walking in a couple of months. Perhaps in time for our next trip to Spain.

We're going to Spain with Sarah, Hamish and Sadie, who had her christening on Sunday and I cannot wait. It'll still be a different trip to the old holidays we had there but it's going to be nice to go a) with friends b) when the weather will be good and c) when Jake is easier to manage / transport. There'll be no sterilising, no formula, longer sleeping patterns (Sadie already sleeps until 8am) and we can all have a good laugh together.

More soon.

The moment of truth

We're off to Royal Surrey this morning to meet Piet and the team for the 6 week check up following Jake's cleft palate repair. I am convinced that some further surgery will be required but am hoping upon hope that none will be and that everything is healing nicely. Other than being what some would describe as a pessimist, but what I would describe as a realist, my reasons for thinking this are that food is still coming out of nose when he sneezes after eating and there is air escaping down through his nose.

We can't see a hole but the professor did say that Jake had a short palate when he brought the sides of it together and that he managed to lengthen it. So basically there is a bit at the back of his palate which actually wouldn't have been there if he hadn't been born with the cleft. This is the only part of the repair which is fabricated. Not fabricated in as much that anything has been added but that it has been put into a position which it has no right to be in. And therefore, perhaps this is the most likely point of failure in the whole process.

Maybe I'm worrying unduely (and I hope I am) but I like to deal in science and high percentages, I'm not reallly a gambler and err on the side of caution so, it seems to me that it's more likely than not that this is where the problem will lie, if at all.

A short palate may not mean more surgery of course, it may just need some speech therapy and coaching. In fact more surgery will only be required for developmental or social issues which a fistula (small hole) or short palate would cause. Of course, food coming out of your nose when you eat would be considered a social problem - I can't imagine the kids at his school turning a blind eye....anyway we'll see and I'll report back when we know.

On a brighter note, Jake's sleeping is getting much better. As regular readers will know, I like to moan about his sleep pattern so it's only fair to inform that he has been going through until 5.20am worse case and, like at the weekend and this morning, 7.20! That is very nearly as good as before he was born. I'm not anticipating the need for an alarm clock again just yet but it does seem that after 10.5 months of disturbed and deprived sleep we are nearly there.

Lastly, a momentus occasion last week saw Jake at a barbers having his very first haircut. Clare resisted until the last moment but when even her brother mentioned that his curls were getting out of hand, something had to give. We kept some of his mop for posterity, but here's a picture of his smart new hair cut!

Kari Callen - The next Susan Boyle?

Just seen some guys Tweeting about this. It seems the subject of cleft lips and palates are going to be getting some high profile exposure if this lady gets further in the competition.

Kari Callen was born with a bilateral (up both sides) cleft lip and palate. Hasn't done her voice any harm!

Cleft lip and palate

last one, I promise!

What is a cleft lip and palate

see below, further apologies

Diagnosis of a cleft lip and palate

Indulge me here, just doing some Googly experimentation

3 years on

Today is our 3 year anniversary. A lot has changed in 3 years. We got married on Saturday 15th July, 2006 at St Mary the Virgin church, Headley and the reception was held at City of London Freemen's school in Ashtead. Truly it was the best day of our lives, the sun shone, the wine flowed and I'll never forget it.

Everyone gives you advice for your wedding day but the one piece of advice I'll never forget (even though I forget who gave it to us) was to step back and take it all in. It goes so fast and if you don't stop and have a look you can forget so much of it. We made several conscious efforts to stand together and just look at the crowd, take in the laughter, conversation and general merriment. I made myself take mental photographs and the one I remember most vividly was as we were walking back down the aisle. Because we were at the front, obviously, with our backs to the crowd, it wasn't until after our nuptials that we turned fully to face everyone. I remember seeing all the hats and dresses and ties and thinking what a brilliantly coloured scene it made.

Another highlight was walking into the reception to rapturous applause. Since my more exuberant youth I am not so much of a limelight seeker and Clare even less so. We worried about feeling too much of the spotlight on our wedding day. Not only did that not bother us, we were pulled towards it willingly. When you're looking your best and every single person in the room is happy to be there, happy to join in and share your day, you just can't help getting a lift from it and really taking advantage.

I even enjoyed my speech. Despite the comment about shirking the limelight I don't mind speaking in public. I used to hate it but years of presenting to clients gives you the confidence to deliver to a crowd. Plus it's a million times easier doing it to a load of friends already well into the hospitality. By the time I was toasting the best men I almost didn't want my turn to end.

The best men speech left me suitable roasted, culminating in a story which I won't go into here other than to say it involved a small French apartment, a baguette and a story I wish I'd never shared.

Most weddings see me rather the worse for wear and I'd told myself to behave, what with being so on display an all. I, for the most part, obeyed and outside the three glasses of red wine I downed prior to my speech, stayed remarkably sober all night.

Simon, our chief usher did an impromptu karaoke set with the band culminating with a brilliant rendition of Mustang Sally and even I danced all night.

I've never smiled so much in one day. In fact it was the day that I learned properly how to smile for the camera. Photos before then always showed me scowling when I thought I was smiling. When you put on a smile it feels really fake but actually looks like a smile. Crazy I know!

We were talking in bed last night about the day and how it was the best day of our lives. We felt bad that it still feels like the best day despite having been through a much bigger day in the last year. Jake's birthday was probably the most significant day, certainly the most anticipated day and easily the most emotional and important day of our lives but our wedding day will always be the best day we've spent together.

It did have a sad flipside as many of the people at the wedding were at another church the day before for the funeral of Mickey, my dad's best friend and a man who was like an uncle to me. It still makes me sad when I think about him and how someone as good as him could be taken away so young by such a horrible illness. I hope he was looking down on Clare and me that day.

R.I.P

An interesting weekend

I feel a bit like I've just been 12 rounds with Tyson. Actually worse than that, Jake could have Tyson, no sweat.

This is all a bit dramatic I suppose, it was only 3 days and we're both still alive but it was hard work. I think that women reading this are more likely to think 'now you know' rather than 'what's all the fuss about?'. That's because looking after a child, or rather, a baby, on your own whatever your gender is not easy for a day, let alone a weekend. Yes, Clare does it everyday but she does get some respite when I walk in and take over and then we get to spend an evening together.

I had a few plans for this weekend but for one reason or another (mainly hungover friends and yet another bout of man flu) they didn't happen, so, whilst I went out to town, the park and to show Jake his granddad's model aeroplane, I talked to remarkably few other humans. The only talking was via a series of high pitched, overly enthusiastic questions, which seem to be the only way babies get spoken to.

*high pitched*

"is that your tummy?"
"are you a clever boy?" (standard high pitched response is "yes you are, yes you are!"
"do you want some food?"
"where's your mummy?"

...repeat until insane.

I found myself most bored when indoors and wishing the weekend away and less so when I got off my arse and went out. Seems obvious but it's easier to stay in and wait for him to sleep, wake up, eat etc but time goes a lot quicker outside. So we went to the swings, played a lot, ate a lot and had a good time together.

Jake is crawling now, well army crawl, he'll be on his knees this week I predict and can pull himself up onto the furniture. I discovered this when I came back from the kitchen with a drink to see he was on his feet. Felt a bad parent, thought I'd left him in the safety of soft play items, however in the blink of an eye he was on his feet. No harm done and he'll need some knocks and bruises to toughen him up and help him learn that going face first into wooden shape sorter blocks isn't such a good move.

The crying is a pain but it gets me more frustrated when Clare's around as I know she'll be able to solve it if I can't. When you're your only option you just get on with it. That said yesterday afternoon was testing me to the limit. I had two hours to go until bedtime (when active duties were over) and he was hell-bent on screaming down the clock. He'd slept, drank milk, had his nappy changed and wasn't poorly with anything yet was screaming to the point where no noise came out of his mouth. When it's this ridiculous, the face he pulls is almost humorous but you can't sit there laughing at a screaming baby. Anyway we got through it and it was a rewarding experience. For Clare that is, she had a lovely, well deserved and overdue break.

Here's my Facebook status update from 'yesterday at 16:55' (just for you BC!)

Clapa's new website

Clapa relaunched it's website recently and although not much has changed, their before and after gallery shots are now better laid out than before. I just went back to have a look and saw Jake's entry. He's the only one smiling! Still can't believe how good it looked just after surgery. His scar is healing really well and most of the redness is gone and although the lip is still kinked up, it's coming back down slowly.

Here's a reminder of the difference a day makes!

A big week

As I mentioned on Friday's blog, Clare is going back to work this week and then she's off to Spain at the weekend so times, they're a changin'. Clare returning to work means many things; more money in the family pot, diversity and a welcome break for her, me probably taking on another night shift each week and life getting back to how it was, just a little bit. It'll be like someone just unpaused our remote control. Clare can't wait for her new routine which for July and August is just two days a week and then three days a week from September. Jake starts at nursery from then and that'll be my new routine on Mondays. Clare will have to take the train to work as we now only have one car, and I'll take him and collect him at the end of the day. Promptly too as they charge around £5 every minute you're late - although they throw in the first minute for free!

Then as Jake wakes up on Saturday, Clare will be leaving for the airport, not to return until Monday evening. I was anxious about this before but now I'm really looking forward to it. This weekend was a bit of a trial run and fairly straight forward. I just need to remember to take Jake's food out of the freezer for the day - most nights sees Clare lovingly preparing all manner of organic purées for the week and freezing them in ice cube trays - he has porridge and banana for breakfast, then 5 cubes of anything from 'fruity chicken' to apricot, apple and sweet potato and a fruit purée for pudding and finally another 5 cubes followed by yoghurt for tea. He finishes the whole lot off with milk and then bed. He certainly eats well and frankly, a lot considering his size. I could easily survive on less than he eats but I suppose I've done all my growing. Well I'm not getting any taller at least.

I'm going to visit some friends and will probably spend some time in the park. Jake has a ball and although he can't stand he can kick it if I suspend him from his arms and swing him at the thing. More fun for me than him I suspect but I'm determined that he'll enjoy sport so we can enjoy it together. My dad hates football and isn't into many of the traditional sports so we never did anything like that together growing up and it's only really now that I wish we'd spent time together doing sport or any sort of activity. I always bring up the story of my last football match for the school which I'd pleaded with my dad to come and watch - he promised he'd be there but never turned up - I was gutted and I know he probably feels a bit bad about it - it was pretty lame not to come along! Anyway he was very busy trying to pay school fees and build us a nice big family home and take us on holidays etc, but having a child has taught me recently that the big, expensive stuff is nowhere near as important as the small, free stuff. The detail if you like. Kicking a ball, building a camp fire, going to a football match, going fishing, trips to the cinema, all of which are affordable financially but most of which I never did because the time was never afforded. Don't get me wrong, I had a good childhood and never wanted for anything but we should have done more as a family and spent time together and although I haven't got much money, I do have time and I'm not going to waste it. I want Jake to have special memories of the things we did together instead of making me feel bad about the stuff we didn't!

We're a bit worried about the repair as there's still a bit of food escaping from Jake's nose when he eats - not all the time and much much less than before but there is some. Clare thinks the back of the palate may have broken down but we won't know until the check up next month. Just praying we don't need to go through it all again.

Progress

We're getting there slowly. Tomorrow is one week since Jake's operation and he's starting to settle as he gets used to his new mouth. Generally he's ok during the day and smiling and laughing just as much as ever but he's still struggling at night. The main problem is that he won't go near his bottle; he wants the milk but gets the fear when he sees the teat. It's fair enough I suppose; after 9 months of learning to cope with milk being squirted into his mouth everything now seems different. Ann explained that after speaking with adult patients who have gone through the same operation, drinking can feel like they're drowning as the gap inside the mouth is so much smaller. Had he not had the operation, I think he'd scream just as much if we put him to bed without feeding him. We've started using the syringe just so we can make sure he's hydrated and satisfied enough to drop off. He wakes up again at 10ish when we give him the ibuprofen for the swelling and then sporadically throughout the night thereafter. That said, he went from 10.30 to 05.30 last night which is a huge step in the right direction.

Clare goes back to work next week!

I can't believe it's come round so quickly and it's going to mean a fair amount of change. I can no longer play the 'I have to work so therefore have to sleep' card at will. To start with it'll be two days a week and then from September, three, when he goes to nursery one day a week. We're very lucky to have mothers who are enthusiastic about looking after him while Clare goes back to work as we certainly couldn't afford the childcare but also that it's going to give him more variety in his life. The grandparent / grandchild relationship is pretty special and important and I'm really grateful we live close enough to make it happen.

Clare goes to Spain next weekend!

This is my first major test of fatherhood. I know this will sound crazy but having never looked after a baby for an entire night and day single handedly, I am slightly nervous. Clare is away first thing Saturday and back last thing on Monday so I have my work cut out.

I have decided to do everything as normal, I'm not going to hibernate and watch the clock tick down, but try to have a busy weekend and see people. Even without having to be in sole charge I have neglected my friends and social life of late through tiredness and lethargy so this is a good opportunity to reverse that.

I read in one of Clare's magazines, an article about a guy who said that men will never bond with their children like their wives will. Whilst I refute that, I do think it can take longer and the first year has definitely been tougher than expected. I did get the instant protective bond when Jake was born, helped by all the emotional turmoil which led up to the birth and from having seen him so much on extra the scans we had. Since then, I've felt that we've bonded well, he smiles whenever I come home from work, I can make him laugh, I play with him etc, but nothing works as well as spending lots of time together. Next weekend will be an opportunity for that. For him to see me as something other than comedian Dad but someone who can properly look after him like his mum does.

The next stage

I remember writing in this post last year when we were on holiday in Egypt, about a friend of a friend whose boy was born with a cleft lip and palate. He wrote to me to say that his son had been through both operations and they were getting on with their lives quite nicely. I also remember thinking that I couldn't wait to be at that stage where the only thing to worry about was a bit of speech therapy maybe. Well, we're there now. Jake came though the operation really well and was up and smiling less than 24 hours later. Piet Haers came round after the operation and said that he had a slightly short palate (which can cause speech issues) but that he was able to lengthen it.

We're back home now and are settling into the routine of administering pain killers every few hours and keeping Jake as happy as possible. He won't touch his bottle, which we were warned might happen, but is eating really well. His sleep pattern has gone back to that of a new born and is up screaming several times a night. This is especially hard as we can't give him milk to placate him and he doesn't fancy a yoghurt in the dead of night.

Feeling washed out and drained today, hence the lacklustre blog, however there is a sense of relief in our house that the second of the three major operations is over, done and dusted. If we're unlucky there could be a revision operation or two but for now it's a nice feeling that he's got through and is now back on track with a 'normal' palate and development can continue.

As always all the staff at the Evelina hospital were lovely and we continue to be thankful that there are people in the world prepared to do that sort of work, well and for sod all money.

Will write more when feeling more inspired.

The day cometh

So we're off to St. Thomas's later on this afternoon for the second (and hopefully last) time this year. Well hopefully the last time for 7 years when the bone graft will be done.

The drill is the same as before. Arrive for a 15:00 consultation to make sure Jake is well enough for the operation and then 'at leisure' until sleep in Gassiot house opposite the hospital. Jake's been bumped up to the first operation of the day which is brilliant news as it means that he'll sleep through most of the starvation period. The downside is that I (having drawn the short straw) have to get up at 01:30 to give him his last feed. Anyway last time we had to wait around until 13:30 ish before he went down, but tomorrow he should go into theatre at more like 08:30. All being well the operation should be over by midday and the recovery can begin in earnest.

I think it's better that he has the most amount of time possible between coming round from the op and night time to give him (and Clare) a chance of a reasonable night of sleep. This time we booked Gassiot house for the second night which means that I won't have to sleep on the floor again. I know it's not about me but I'm no use to Jake after 4 hours of sleeping on a solid floor. Mind you, I'm not much better after 8 hours in a bed!

Jake will have a morphine drip up all night and this should be removed mid morning on Friday. The nurses will then take us through the routine we need to follow for the next 2-4 weeks. Firstly he'll be on a mixture of paracetamol and ibuprofen for at least 10 days and then we can slowly reduce the amounts depending on his reaction. Next he has to wear socks, secured by medical tape, on his hands. The first thing I thought about this was that he'd be uncomfortably hot but I think really the problem will be that he can't pick anything up or hold on to it. How frustrating will that be for him?! He's just learnt to coordinate his opposable thumbs and now we're taking the ability away. He's going to be very bored I think and a baby in pain plus boredom equals the square route of not much fun for any of us.

That said, this is the culmination of a long and fairly stressful year and I'm looking forward to it being over. There might well be the odd revision operation (there's another one tomorrow) and probably some speech therapy, but this should most of the hard work done and dusted.

It feels odd that after all that has gone into this blog, the point of it could almost be a thing of the past. I find it difficult to remember Jake will his cleft lip and how I felt about it. It was only 5 months ago but I'm glad of the amount of photos I took and the one on my office desk is still one with the cleft. I'm still proud of how he was born and how he looked because, albeit a bit different, that's how he started.

I'm going to carry on with the blog as I enjoy it and a few others have told me they do too. Ann mentioned that another of her sets of parents with a cleft affected child also read it. I don't know who you are, but it's good to know there's people reading it who can really empathise. So, hi to you and thanks for reading.

I think I wrote about the Clapa tea party we went to where we met a young girl who was pregnant with a baby to be born with a cleft. Well, she had a little boy and Ann says she's doing really well. She took the baby back to the next tea party and for me, that takes a lot of courage. The dad isn't about, she lives in Kingston and has no car. To get to Guildford requires a walk, a train, a bus and another walk. She's just 20 and we got the impression from the questions she was asking, that she was really worried about what people would think and how they would react. A lot of the same things we worried about but we have each other and a car. Good for her for not letting any of that crap stop her and getting on with her life looking after her beautiful baby boy.

So that's it for now. The next part of the journey starts with the 13:47 to London Waterloo.

Ryan Air sucks

I've written an article on another blog to highlight the experience I had on Ryan Air and the rip off merchants they are. In order for it to progress up Google's ranks, I'm linking to it here.

I'd urge anyone reading this blog who has a blog or website to link the words 'Ryan Air sucks' to the following url and see if we can make a difference.

Oh yeah and never fly with them again!

http://ryanairsucks.wordpress.com/ryanairsucks/

(had to use WordPress because ryanairsucks.blogspot.com had already gone. Wonder why?)

Italy - the perfect holiday

We're back and a fantastic time was had by all. We hit Casa San Venanzo at about 15:30 Sunday afternoon after I miraculously found it from memory. This place is incredible, my father bought it almost six years ago but due to Italian bureaucracy and Italian builders and Italian weather and Italian architects it is only really properly finished now. My parents had a holiday there last year but it wasn't fully furnished then. Since, they've had people from a shop in Spain bring two lorry loads of furniture and completely interior design and dress it for them. The garden is almost finished and all the grass seed is going down next week. The first rental guests will be arriving in a month so we're hoping the industrial grade irrigation system does its job in time. This was a grand design project but I think it would have tested even Kevin McCloud's patience to the limit.

Anyway, we had a brilliant time and explored the various hill top villages, got invited into the neighbouring farmer's house for dinner and discovered all about their family via our gardener / interpretor, went to the coast, cooked enormous dinners and drank a worryingly amount of Verdicchio and Chianti. Just what we needed and even more so to block out any thoughts or worries about this week's upcoming appointment.

I'll do a full update about that before we go but for now, here are some holiday pics.

The ten best things about Jake

Just in case you thought this blog was simply my forum to moan about how hard parenthood is, I thought I'd list the things I love about our boy.

At 9 months old Jake is full of personality and is just so excited about everything. Not all the time, he winges and cries sometimes and gets tired and arsey but all babies do that. I feel like I'm arriving at a point where the good stuff is outweighing the bad; before the good stuff was compensation for the bad stuff but now the bad stuff is becoming insignificant because there's so much good stuff. I'm sure there's people who read this blog and can't understand why I write what I write about his not sleeping and the stuff I find difficult to handle. They probably think I should get over myself and realise that this is standard stuff and I shouldn't be writing a list of good things when it's all good. If nothing else, this blog has been 100% honest since the day I started it; from the feelings regarding the cleft and others' reaction to it, my annoyance at his sleeping habits, how I felt, how I wanted to feel and so on, so this is just a continuation of that. Why blog for effect, why say 'it's all gravy' of it's not?

I'm sure some people use their blogs to paint a perfect life, to further an agenda, to build an online persona, mine is just a diary of events, thoughts, feelings, hopes and a general mind dump. At first it was necessity to get it all out and whilst it's developed into much more than that, it still acts as an outlet. Up or down, I get to write things down which I may not articulate in any other way and I still find it useful for that. Also I enjoy it. English was the only subject I was ever any good at and I love language and a good sentence. I ramble too much and I know many of my sentences are too long, but I enjoy it all the same. At the time of writing this blog runs to around 38,000 words and most modern fiction novels are around 55,000 so there's clearly a lot of work and time gone into to writing it, especially given that it's fitted in around everything I have to do.

Anyway, I'll continue to be honest on here as I can't see the point in doing it any other way.

So, here are the ten best things about Jake.

1. His smile - This is number one, not just because it was the thing which we were concerned about most. More that I get the smile first thing in the morning, when I come home at lunch and before I put him to bed.
2. His laugh - Jake's always been a laugher. I equate laughter with happiness so the more he laughs the better. It's infectious too and I could listen to it all day.
3. Bedtime - Despite the yards of blog dedicated to moaning about his waking up, he does go to sleep like a very good little boy. I put him in his cot, turn on the mobile and he just stares up in wonder with a cheeky grin. He goes to bed happy which allows me to pour a glass of wine knowing he'll be asleep for the next 10 hours!
4. Bath - Jake LOVES his bath. I think most babies do but he get so exited about it and as I lift him in his legs go crazy like he's powering a cartoon car. Then he starts splashing and laughing and I get soaked. My favourite part of the day.
5. Noises - He makes some very cute noises which range from 'mamamama' to a happy shriek and they all provoke a proud dad reaction.
6. Clapping - This is the new favourite game. 'Jakey clap' and he claps. Our child is a genius. We're working on waving but he doesn't get it yet.
7. Determination - Even though I get annoyed every morning, I'm impressed how set he is on tweaking my nipple, grabbing my flesh or ripping out my armpit / chest hair. He doesn't understand 'no' yet but he will!
8. Him & Clare - The bond is awesome to see. No Dad will ever get quite the same relationship as a baby does with its mother.
9. How he makes me feel - Proud. A proper grown up. Validated.
10. Excited for the future - There's so many things I can't wait to do. Take him to play football, teach him to fish (once I've learnt), build a camp fire. It's going to be a lot of fun.

So there you have it. My boy in a list. Sorted.