This will hurt me...

Ezra wanted to come up close and say a great big thank you to all those whose sent him cards and wished him well for his birthday, so I have afforded him valuable blog space to do so:

Despite his usual late afternoon/early evening reversion to a modern day scoundrel (more Ungern von Sternberg than Dennis the Menace), this blast from the past reminds me that my love for my oldest baby is will be sempiternal, however many vegetables he refuses to eat. Yes, it's Henry and I the morning after his birth (earlier that morning). You can see that he was a bit battered and bruised by the whole experience. Maybe that explains his attitude of late, perhaps it is post-traumatic stress?

Two balloons, one little bloke with a plan. Dare he dream that one day he shall fly? Well, flying may be a bit further off, but this young man is now an excellent crawler, with an urge to explore all areas of the house. Dark rooms fear him not, nor cupboards, beds, toilets or washing machines. Indeed, he's already seen more of the laundry than many adults I can think of!

I thought that I'd give all the Henry fans out there a treat today and post a photo that Jen took of a four day old humongous monster little bloke. He looks somewhat different now.

Lest we forget amidst the adulation for all things Henry that I have another son, dear little Ezra ™, who is his own man and who is just as chic, clever, inimitable and downright handsome as his older brother with the cult following. Like Ezra, I am the second (and youngest) child in the family. I understand being second off the rank can sometimes translate into second in the mind. Being second can be a tricky business and intend to help guide the little one through the trials and tribulations that inevitably accompany such a burden. So I have posted this photograph of the sweetest little man of the house, to let him know that in my eyes he will always be equal first to me, never second.

All right now, settle down people. Settle down. I know that it's difficult to control yourself in the face of such grace, beauty and (speaking frankly) such raw, unchecked sex appeal, but I figure that I'd tempt fate just this once and post a pic from a father/son shoot the other day. Move along now, nothing more to see...

I figure that with the global Henry love-in, it is only fair to give Ezra a run too. thirteen weeks old now, and he already has dozens under his spell. Henry finally had a crack at his name today. Fair enough it sounded like "Esch-ra", but he ran around the house shouting it for long enough to deduce that he is quite taken with his brother. So here is the youngest son basking in the glory when I got home from work yesterday (I managed to leave within twenty [!] minutes of my actual finish time), happy as ever. You'll note that knitted baby blanket that can be seen in many of these photos, Jen made that. I've promised (and have begun), a post dedicated to all of the stuff she's made for the bairns - with links to patterns - as soon as I get the time that such an event deserves. So stay tuned for that one.

Continuing the countdown to Henry's birthday, here is the pink little fellow at seventeen days old, relaxing after a feed in his mother's arms. Like a piglet fattened up for market, he's drunk on milk and high on life. Showcasing the folded hands of a Catholic schoolgirl, his manners distinguish him from the much more rugged Ezra, who still likes to get around fists raised.

No, it's not a prune, it's Henry at four days! Here he is all arty farty already, set against a black background pulling his The Thinker pose. He's always been a biggun' hence the bruising around the face incurred on the way out! By the by, I only just realised that the comic that I posted a couple of posts ago was number 700 for this blog. Happy 700 blog!

Back at work today, so need to sharpen the spirits and post a picture of Ezra today. Here is the littlest bloke in the household demonstrating some fine neck control. There is something extraordinary in a baby who can lift up his whole head and look from side to side at birth, and Ezra could do that. He's clearly gifted! Let me share just one of my frustrations at work today. I expect to present at an upcoming conference. I have prepared the abstract, have a title and so on, and just needed to enter the details onto the hosting organisation’s website. I am quite adequate at computer-related business, in fact, in my sector, I am regarded as something of a ‘computer whizz’ (bearing in mind that being able to appropriately shut down a computer probably qualifies you to that title here). So all that I (think) that I need to do is enter the info. Twenty minutes of Name, Job Title blah blah blah through a bunch of slow loading pages (and we have a pretty impressive connection here at wo...

No bile and venting today, despite another night's interrupted sleep, it has been a pretty good day thus far. Henry and I mastered a number of new bits of playground equipment, and Ezra slept. Note the little snick on Ezra's eyebrow there, courtesy of a stinging right jab from his brother. He still hasn't mastered the art of keeping the gloves up at all times. He'll learn. So yesterday was the day that Ezra and Henry finally matched up. That is, Ez arrived nineteen days earlier than his due date, and Hen was twelve days overdue. Although I am skeptical about the lack of scientific rigidity that informs due dates, it struck Jen and I as an appropriate time to reconsider the differentials in size between the imperial toddler and his little brother. And wouldn't you know it, the big weigh in confirmed that Ezra is exactly the same weight as Henry at birth. It seems that the non-stop eating has done him good, gaining one-and-a-half kilos since birth. Time will tell whet...

Here is Henry at a few weeks old, as a point of comparison to the photo of Ezra earlier today. As for a commentary, well, I subscribe to the maxim that says if one doesn’t have something nice to say, it is better to say nothing at all, Toddlers, hmpff.

I am rather tired, have just fed one wife, one toddler, two magpies and will soon set off to a truckload of ducks and two geese (with the usual sundry of seagulls). So rather than construct something terribly witty and humourous, I am just going to post this photo of Ezra and his mum. In the interests of fairness, I have a picture of Henry lined up to follow later in the day.

So part two in my attempt to make myself feel better at work, and here we have a photo of the similarly lovely Ezra. This one is from yesterday evening, meaning that he is (in comparison), an old man of fourteen days. You'll have noted that due to him not actually being due until August 7, he has not nearly been as bruised and battered as poor old Henry. That may well account for his more easy-going nature. I hope that having these photos up makes the day a little easier to work though, but am sure that Jennifer will give me running updates on all the shenanigans on the home front. May God have mercy on her soul...

It's my first day back at work today and I am sad as hell about it. Therefore, I've taken the liberty of posting photos of my two favourite babies in the world. First up, we have one from all the way back in the late-October of 2006, with a picture of a three day old Henry. Mind you, Henry was a bit overdue, so he looks pretty big here for a newborn. Because of his size, the poor beggar came out a little bruised an battered, and looked like he'd just gone twelve rounds with Arturo Gatti. That said, he did come out looking like a winner. COMING UP, Part II: Ezra sleeps!

Another Ezra shot, and another poem. Please forgive me, for I am smitten. To all those who've always been left a little cold by the challenging art of poetry, seriously, dig out some e.e. cummings and have a think about how much fun you can have with form and convention when you throw the rule book out the window. One day I am going to be very, very brave (stupid etcetera) and publish one of my very own poems on this here little old blog. Until I work up that courage (or work on those poems), you'll have to make do with shots of babies and some old favourites. [my sweet old etcetera] e.e. cummings my sweet old etcetera aunt lucy during the recent war could and what is more did tell you just what everybody was fighting for, my sister isabel created hundreds (and hundreds)of socks not to mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers etcetera wristers etcetera, my mother hoped that i would die etcetera bravely of course my father used to become hoarse talking about how it was a privilege ...

Can't write too much, I'm entertaining Henry before bath time and bed. I’ll then sneak back to the hospital and leave him in the care of my parents. He has a new brother. Ezra Leo Fitzgerald McCracken Ezra's first photo Three kilograms, he came a bit early, but got top marks on the APGAR scores. He’s a reasonable size, but looks tiny compared to Henry at birth (who was a monster baby). No drugs, no stitches, very quick labour and mum and bub well. I have a quick pic, I will post more when we're home properly. Ezra and his dad

With baby number two rapidly approaching [t minus 24 days and counting] , we have not appeared to have got much closer to determining a name agreeable to all. So again , I appeal to the wisdom of the crowd for assistance. The boundaries: first, replications of initials are problematic and best avoided which means that K, J and H are excluded. Second, it has to sit comfortably with “Henry Fitzgerald McCracken” which obviously further limits the choices. The short lists as they currently stand: Boys:   Otto, Ezra, Frederick, Levi, Isaak, Albert, Conrad. Girls: Clementine, Izetta, Audrey, Ivy, Violet, Astrid, Iris. Obviously I have my favourites, Jennifer has hers, and Henry definitely has his. The problem is reaching broad agreement. Seriously, the stalemate here makes Yalta look like a breeze. I am happy to take new suggestions or endorsements on any on offer above.

With some reticence I must share with you all a thought. A seemingly innocuous phrase – one that I both use and hear with predictable regularity – has taken a new, possibly sinister, turn of late. “ When the baby comes .” I am not entirely certain what it is about the expression that chills me, but increasingly it resembles an ominous message dripping with menace. “Things will be different... When the baby comes .” “Are you all set for... When the baby comes ?” “How do you think that Henry will react... When the baby comes ?” I am staring to think that this young person who enters our home will present itself like Heathcliff the foundling, think of all the joy that he bought to Wuthering Heights! That said, I always like the support the underdog, and I am the youngest of two in my family, so I could well pick this one as my favourite. I just hope that it is not a dud. Or bald. And I'd like it just a tad more quiet than Henry please. But damn it, you can't yet tick these thing...

Due to popular demand, this weekend will be a Henry triple feature! To mix things up though, I have gone with a Before & After/Then & Now theme. So, the first photo you can see Henry (and his mum) at five days old. You know that they're young when the nappy looks that big on them. The second photo was taken in the city today, where Henry is a whopping 559 days old! He looks a little bigger than he does in exhibit A.