Lions and Tigers and Fionn, oh my!

We all went to the zoo yesterday, zoo yesterday, the zoo yesterday...

The weather suddenly remembered it was August and the sun scorched down from early 'til late, and the place was absolutely thronged. Only my second time there, Fionn's first, and he was absolutely thrilled. Big hit for him: the tortoises (although he insisted on calling them turtles); big hit for us: watching the elephants taking a shower on the Kaziranga Forest Trail. We also managed to get him take a nap in his buggy (a rare occurrence) which meant we had a whole day out and about. It makes such a difference not to have to plan to go back home for his nap, it feels like you have such freedom :)

He also had plenty of opportunity to find his feet, so, for the hardcore Fionn fans, a real treat lies below:

This is especially for the Grandad's who haven't yet seen much walking action from Fionn: Grandad Greg in particular is so enthused about walking that it inspired him to bring forth the following creation:

Thirteen months of growth.

Another epic journey,
A definite mile-stone,
When baby goes bipedal
And starts to walk alone.

On more than one occasion,
A single step, no more,
You’ve taken since your birthday,
But now you’ve taken four.

The date of this great journey
For historians to quote,
Was on Monday, July twenty,
After thirteen months of growth.

Ode to a grandson

Almost a week late, but been busy with the thesis, work, life, the universe, everything and all the fish...

Anyway, first of a few posts related to Fionn's first birthday last Saturday, here's his birthday poem from sean-athair Greg:

Fionn's first - June 09

Pictured on your daddy's blog before being one week old,
Celebrated journeys penned in verse,
Video recording of your first attempt to crawl,
Two steps forward one step in reverse.

Giving voice through baby sounds at barely three months old,
Sounds like you were really trying to talk,
How we marvelled at the lengthy stories that you told,
Wondered could we teach you how to walk.

Getting in the swim of things while suited like your dad,
Twelve month anniversary of birth,
Family and friends around you showering you with praise,
Celebrating your first year on Earth.

The future is bright, the future is nut-free

On Saturday Sinéad and I went along to a parents support group meeting organised by the Irish Anaphylaxis Campaign. No kids allowed, so Fionn spent his time entertaining his more than willing baby-sitters (Roisin & Brion) by climbing up a flight of stairs three times. Good man Fionn.

The meet-up was excellent, with about 20 people attending, some couples but mostly parents attending by themselves. The stories we heard were very varied: the ages of the children with anaphylaxis ranged from Fionn at nine months of age up to at least 17 years old; and the allergens included everything from peanuts to potatoes. It was a really informative few hours, especially for myself and Sinéad, as we're obviously still very new to this, and we got some good practical information like names of experts in Ireland, and the kind of supports that were available (not much).

We also got to listen to peoples' own personal struggles, to hear about the kind of everyday stuff they had to cope with, and that we have yet to face: kid's parties; eating out in restaurants; transitioning to new schools. Parents sat there discussing the vital neccessity of having adrenaline shots (anapens/epipens) pretty much everywhere - in the home, at school, having the child carry two themselves - as well as making sure that as many friends and relatives were familiar with how the anapens work by asking them to practice with a training "pen". It all seemed a bit daunting, and one lady (who also quite recently found out that her son has anaphylaxis, although he's much older than Fionn) seemed to sum up my feelings quite well, saying that before she found out about the diagnosis she had never given much thought to allergies and allergic reactions; now that she knew, she felt that she had crossed some great divide, and that we were somehow separated from the general public, in that it is now all that we can think about, that we now have this huge extra responsibilty to remain vigilant on behalf of our children about what they eat and what they are exposed to.

This may seem like a doom and gloom post, but it's not. I came away from the meeting feeling quite motivated by the level of support from the others present - they've made it this far, and their success (in some cases in spite of much greater challenges than we face) is inspiring. The Irish Anaphylaxis Campaign is doing a great job of raising awareness in this country, and I'll be giving some of my time to empower the community by helping out with the website, as well as doing what I can to help with the drive to have the campaign become a recognised charitable organisation. I'd like to thank Claire and Fiona for organising the meet-up, as well as the other parents we met on the day, and look forward to seeing you again soon.

Oh, and by the way, Declan Kidney for Taoiseach.

Nuts to you

We finally got the results back from Fionn's allergy tests yesterday, and, to our disappointment, we found out that he has a serious adverse reaction to peanuts. It's not so bad that he can't be in the same room as them (he's happily played on my lap as I devour peanut-butter and toast), but it's clearly bad enough that he had to be brought to hospital back in December suffering from angiodema.

It will make some aspects of our life more difficult, and he will certainly face challenges of his own when he's older as a result of it, but I have absolutely no doubt that we will successfully manage this as a family, that we can give him the structures he needs now and the support he will need in the future. Ever the optimist :)

Fionn is of course happily oblivious to all of this, and long may it last. To lift the sombre mood of this my 80^th post, check out the man in question and his oh-so-proud father on the swings in the park this afternoon.

Lurgee

So my wife and child are ill. It's Fionn's first cold, and he has my heart broken trying to teach him how to blow his nose. He seems happy enough when he's awake just to sit and blow snot bubbles (nice...) but he's been quite upset at night as he's finding it quite difficult to breathe :( Poor chap. Well, one sickness in eight months is a pretty good return, I'm thankful we've gotten off so lightly.

Sinead's suffering with a head cold as well, compounded by lack of sleep (see above), so I took Fionn out for a walk (well wrapped up, for any Grannies reading this!!) to Dun Laoighre. I think I must have offended some Rain God somewhere, because the only cloud in an otherwise unblemished blue sky dumped it's load on us as we were sitting eating rusks on the West Pier - interrupting what was an otherwise idyllic father-son bonding experience... Although we do now have the shared experience of sitting looking like a pair of drowned rats on the DART home :)

Anyway, enough talk I hear you say, give me some media! First up, the obligatory clip of the nude child in the bath:

And the highlight of the show: Fionn crawls! It isn't the most graceful thing you'll ever see, and certainly puts one in mind of drunken elephants, but you can't fault him for determination :)

Mon petit homme vert

The promised deluge - Fionn as Ireland's 16^th man, opening day of the Six Nations.

Yes, he's wearing a No. 13 shirt - he is, after all, technically from Leinster.

Reacting to another piece of Irish magic:

Halftime pep talk:

Getting ready to pack down behind the scrum - natural born openside:

Full album is here.

The things you don't expect

To be listening to French rap with your 7 month old son at quarter past seven on a Saturday morning.

The list of other unexpected things is as long as my arm, but this seems pretty outlandish :)

Now, time to make some banana porridge...

A face like a dad

Home again to an empty house I'm afraid. S and Fionn are overnighting once more in Holles St, although they at least have been afforded the dignity of a private room, which is a huge relief.

Things I completely wasn't expecting fatherhood to bring:

• An irrational and overwhelming urge to protect my child - I have now twice suspected two perfectly lovely and helpful nurse/midwives of trying to poison him.
• A trawl through the musical back-catalogue of my mind - Fionn especially seems to like Oasis classics such as "Champagne Supernova" sung to him while having his nappies changed. Odd.

I'm sure there's more, but it's far too late...