My mini hiatus has caused the happy news of another birth to be missed. So, please, let's welcome Lucas Wilson to the world.
All the congratulations to Deb and Neil (and of course baby Lucas) on his successful birth. Naturally, Neil has more on his blog.
On Saturday we went over to Andrew and Michelle's house in Wakefield for a pre-Xmas get-together. Dean and Rachel came over for the afternoon with their two children Nathanial and Isabella.
Although I bumped into the latter coupling in the week when I met up with Gemma at the German Market for lunch in the beer tent, it was good to have longer than then an hour to catch up with them. It felt like I hadn't seen our hosts for ages, but really it's only been a few weeks.
One of the items on the agenda was a walk in nearby Thornes Park. Eventually, as it was getting dark, we decided to go for it and donned our warm coats and hats. Olive used the great outdoors to try out both her ever improving walking skills and her new shoes. Since taking the following footage, Gemma has thankfully removed the squeakers from each shoe.
I also managed to take a few pictures before the camera battery died. Although technically poor, I really like the below shot of Olive pottering along. Definite album-cover material.
After the walk, the Viponds headed back to Bradford whilst we got fish and chips and settled down to watch the 2009 Comedy Awards.
Olive stayed on at my mum and dad's after the funeral. They returned her to us this weekend just gone. I understand that all parties had fun (in this picture it looks like my dad is enjoying himself the most).
Although It was nice to have a few days away from parenting, we were looking forward to Olive's return on Saturday. Since getting back, she has developed a cough and a significant wheeze. We took her down to the LGI on Sunday evening where she was seen by Dr Barass, who is Gemma's cousin. A respiratory virus was diagnosed and an inhaler was prescribed, which has helped a lot. I reckon she will totally have asthma though, thanks to her parent's faulty genes.
Since I reported on Olive last month, she has mainly concentrated on developing her locomotion skills (although her camera-work leaves a little to be desired). In the last week or so she has become noticeably more confident in her walking, and now potters freely about the house, hands raised above her her head zombie like, falling only when she stands on a discarded toy or trips over someone's feet. And she really seems to enjoy walking (including climbing the stairs) in preference to crawling.
We had a lovely, low-key, halloween-tinged weekend. Saturday was the busiest day; Sunday was pretty lazy.
Preparations commenced on Thursday when I harvested our crop of butternut squashes from the garden. Both were looking mighty tasty...
...but size left a little to be desired, as evidenced when compared to an average-sized pumpkin:
No matter. The pumpkin and the ripe butternut went into the big pot, along with some onion, garlic, potatoes and red peppers. Left to simmer for a few hours, then blended, we had our soup for Saturday.
And like clockwork, Saturday came around. The day started with a visit to Baildon to see Dean and Rachel. Andrew and Michelle were also there, and both Olive and Scarlett were dressed appropriately for the time of year.
Whilst there we met the Viponds new daughter Isabella, who was mainly asleep and most definitely gorgeous.
Then we drove home, The three Davies' couldn't fit into our car so took the train to Leeds, and I went to pick them up. I was concerned enough about the demonstrations that were taking place in nearby City Square to take the back way to the station. There were lots of police around and a couple of helicopters, but no sign of either the English Defence League or the Unite Against Facism. On the way home I decided to go through town, and we were amazed at the number of police on the streets.
The rallies had now dispersed but the police were clearly taking no changes. Clusters of police stood about on every corner, and most of the roads around Greek Street were double-parked with police vans. We felt at once safe and apprehensive.
Back home, we ate soup, and then left Gemma's mum in charge of Olive and Scarlett. We four headed to Bradford to see Daniel Kitson. His current stand-up show is loosely about death and ran for an hour and a half. Of course it was absolutely funny. Wearing a relatively trimmed beard and shorter hair, he looked like a younger Bill Bryson.
Afterwards we had a little difficulty getting out of the multi-storey car park; something had caused a delay, and now there was a large queue of cars lined up at the single exit barrier. It was one of those car parks where you pay before getting into your car; you leave by surrendering your ticket at the barriers. To avoid mis-use, you have something like fifteen minutes from the time you pay to get to the barrier. But it was soon clear that the cars in the queue were taking longer than this to reach the front. Confusion reigned. Some bystanders loitered at the barrier, passengers got out of cars and waived tickets. But luckily nine police forces were not required in this instance, as some remote controller opened the barrier just as we reached the front.
Sunday was scrambled eggs on toast and sitting around chatting. Apart from taking the Davies' back to Wakefield at lunchtime, and popping into the shops for supplies, Sunday was a day for lounging with the family.
Since before her birthday, Olive has had cold-like symptoms. But was it a cold, or was it teething? Well, it is probably a bit of both, but she has also been sick a couple of times (especially on Wednesday morning, when she pretty much kept us up from half-past three). Trips to the doctors in recent weeks have suggested a water infection might be at work, but the doctor who saw Olive yesterday diagnosed an ear infection. Antibiotics continue.
She hasn't let her ailments get her down though. Here's Olive enjoying a go on the swings in East End Park, on the afternoon of her birthday.
Speech news, and 'Dadda' and 'Mamma' are now being dropped irregularly into her conversational babblings. Also, 'Ay-o' (translation - hello) can be ofter heard, usually when she is playing with one of her toy telephones.
In terms of motion, I am pleased to exclusively reveal that Olive took four actual genuine steps yesterday. I was not in the room, and Gemma only caught site of the end of the effort, but Gemma's mum reports that 21st October 2009 was the date when my daughter took her first steps.
So, it has been a most excellent but tiring day. A couple each of Gemma's aunts and cousins popped by, and Olive had some great presents and received 29 cards. The packaging has been a bit tricky to manage given that we are in the midst of the Great Bin Strike 2009, but I'm sure the green bin of (unoccupied) number 66 will come in handy over the weekend.
This afternoon we had a walk down to East End Park, with Olive on (in, really) her new bike. She enjoyed it a lot judging by her beaming face. She also had a go on the swings, as did I.
Tonight at Browns Olive was treated to a kind of taster menu, in addition to her main course of meatballs and spaghetti bolognese (leftovers from our tea last night). Here's what she sampled:
In returning to savoury after having some cake, she has clearly disregarded the advice of John Shuttleworth.
*This post is named after our favourite greasy spoon cafe, on Bristol's North Street.
After breakfast, we let Olive loose on her numerous presents. She was (understandably) unfamiliar with the procedure, but after helping her out with the first few she seemed to get the idea and methodically and slowly unveiled the remainder. Soon she was surrounded by new books, toys, and even a tricycle.
My mum and dad (fresh off a plane from Majorca) are, as I type, cruising up the M1 and will arrive after lunch, and Gemma's mum and sister are over as well. After an afternoon of hanging out at home, we'll head into town and take our booked seats at Browns for tea.
As ever, it has been longer than I would have liked. But I thought I'd wait an extra couple of weeks to provide you with the latest installment of the Olive chronicles. In the last Chapter, you may recall, Olive was nine English months old. As she approaches the big-0-1, where is she at?
I guess the main development is that she now clearly understands a few words, such as Mummy, Daddy, Olive, ball, and throw. She can move at near lightning speed, using the crawling method (which I understand is popular amongst children of this age), and can pull herself up readily onto her own two feet, using whatever furniture or family member is nearest. A little additional height is enabling her to reach the next level of shelving; remote controls and mugs of tea now find themselves seeking the salvation of the higher terraces of the bookcase.
She is still amazing when it comes to appetite. Olive will eat just about anything and, aided by five-and-a-half teeth, makes light work of a three-course meal. We are cutting right back on the milk (she is now taking the 4% blue-top stuff) and she only has one nap per day now, some time after lunch.
Quite a wide-ranging variety of gabblings come out of her mouth, and she is developing a distinct personality of her very own. I reckon she is set to take after her mother. Oh dear.
A few weeks ago Gemma started back at university, and so Olive is now at nursery all day on Mondays and Tuesdays. She has made a couple of 'friends' (Archie and Angel), lost a shoe (now recovered, thankfully - shoes aren't cheap!) and is now around 65% grubbier at the end of a nursery day.
Later this week (on the 8th) it is her birthday. We'll just be having a little gathering on the day (I have the day off work) and at the weekend a bunch of family, friends, and their various offspring, will be going to Garforth to a children friendly venue for food and celebrations.
All photos by Gemma, who likes to be credited.
