Category: Family

Abi had a bookbinding event in Dundee on Saturday. We hired a car for the weekend, and we all drove up there for the day. Alex and I went shopping while Abi was binding, and towards the end of the afternoon we made our way up Dundee Law, the hill that sits in the middle of the city. It was bitter cold at the top, but the view made me forget all about that. The setting sun bathed everything in an amazing golden light. The Firth of Tay glittered like crumpled silver foil, and the city shone with an inner light.

Edinburgh is a city of sandstone; Aberdeen is a city of granite. Dundee is somewhere inbetween. Where the slanting rays struck sandstone and brick, the buildings basked in the warmth of the winter sun. Where late afternoon shadows crept over granite and concrete, a cool blue glow spoke of ice and rime. The slopes of the Law are wrapped in gardeners’ allotments. Steam rose from compost heaps and hugged the ground as if seeking shelter from the coming chill.

Alex and I both took photos. And then we retreated to the warmth of the car and ate jelly beans.

Alex and I went to the cinema yesterday morning. He’s two and a half years old now, and his attention span is now long enough for him to sit through an entire movie (Monsters, Inc., Shrek, Beauty And The Beast, etc.) at home. I thought that he would find the process of watching a whole film in a big dark room, on a big colourful screen, interesting and entertaining. And he did!

We saw Finding Nemo. He spent most of the time sitting in my lap. We shared a cup of juice and a small tub of popcorn. He found it a “little bit scary,” especially the trailers, which grab all the exciting bits from upcoming films and condense them into a series of two-minute visual assaults. During the scary bits, he would raise his hands over his eyes and peek out through his fingers. He liked the turtles, and thought they were flying through the water–flappy flappy.

He got a little bit distracted when he noticed that the film was showing on the glass pane of the projection booth at the back of the cinema, but apart from that he sat perfectly still for well over an hour and a half, and he was entranced by the whole experience. After the credits rolled, and we had left the cinema, he commented that “dada fish name Marlin; dada Alex name Martin!”

(We’re definitely going to have to do this again. In future, though, we’ll probably try and skip the trailers, because they’re just too intense.)

My brother Scott and his wife Ange have had their baby! Kyle Matthew Sutherland was born at 23:07 on Saturday 1st November, weighing in at 9lb 9oz / 4.37kg. Monster! (And to think that Scott called Alex the “Chubster” when he was born…)

Congratulations to Scott and Ange, and a big welcome to Kyle.

Alex still cries when I drop him off at nursery in the mornings. Or at least, he does most of the time. He was okay-ish this Monday–no all-out despair and wailing–but on Tuesday I saw a side of him that doesn’t usually come out when I leave him there.

He was looking exceptionally cool that morning: blue long-sleeved shirt, tan corduroys, new brown boots, denim jacket, and orange sunglasses. After I took off his jacket and shades, he poked his head through the doorway into the toddler room and scoped out the joint. Then he walked back to me and put his hands up in the universal “cuddle” gesture. So far, so normal.

I picked him up, and together we walked into the room. He rested his chin on my shoulder, but he didn’t seem as upset as he often does. One of the nursery assistants came up to us, said hello, and asked Alex if he wanted a cuddle from her. He nodded quietly, and clambered over into her arms.

I was just starting to wave goodbye to him, when I noticed two young girls, both a little older than Alex, maybe 3 or 3 and a half, walking over. They waved at him and said “Alex! Alex! Hello Alex!”

He looked down at them, and then back at me. His early morning frown slowly turned into a sly, cheeky grin, as if to say, “Look what I’ve found.”

There he was, my two-year-old son, already at the centre of attention of gangs of adoring older women. He may be Super Tantrum Toddler Man at home, but he can turn the charm all the way up to 11 when he wants to.

What a boy.

• 1 car
• 2 career changes
• 3 residences
• 12 jobs
• 2,349 books
• 4,927 nappies

10 years. 1 marriage. I love you, Abi.

(Abi does a much better job of the whole reminiscence thing, though.)

The actual anniversary was last Wednesday, 23rd July. We didn’t do anything special during the day. Abi was at work, and because I don’t work on Wednesdays, I spent the day stripping wallpaper with Alex. In the evening, though, Scott and Ange came round to babysit, and Abi and I went out for dinner at the Pompadour restaurant at the Caledonian Hotel. Very posh, very nice.

We were also stuck for a present to get each other. I got Abi a diamond ring when Alex was born, and I don’t wear any jewelry other than my wedding ring. A romantic holiday would have been nice, but tricky to arrange. So what could we fall back on? Books? CDs? That didn’t seem terribly special for a ten-year anniversary….

The answer came in the form of tools. Abi’s hobby is bookbinding, and recently she has been craving leatherworking ornaments and various other bits of esoteric hardware. My main hobby right now is computers (sigh), and I’ve been craving a brain transplant and a spinal upgrade for Frankenstein, my PC. So we decided to reward each other with a cash budget to blow on our favourite tools.

It may not sound romantic, but we’re both fairly practical types, and we much prefer getting presents that we want and know we’re going to use, than trinkets that’ll end up lying around in drawers.

Wow. Ten years. I often get surprised looks when I tell people we’ve been married for that long. I was 21, fresh out of university; Abi was 22 and herself only six months past her graduation. By modern standards, we married really young. Still, it seems to have worked out okay so far. 🙂

A very pleasant thought struck me yesterday about the next ten years. In 2013, Alex will be just 12 years old. The last ten years seem like a long time. That means there is still an equally long time of Alex’s childhood to enjoy. That feels really nice to know.

(If you can’t figure out the picture, try standing back a bit, or squinting at the screen. If you still don’t see it, try the original image instead.)

(If you still can’t figure it out, here’s a wee hint: WE’RE HAVING ANOTHER BABY.)