zerolight

I’ve not kept on top of the photo gallery much these days. Busy busy. Anyway, to break up all this Mac talk, I thought I’d post that at long last, and after much cajoling, I got around to posting some new photos.

This weekend Ali took his first real unassisted steps. He’s been dabbling with walking for the past couple of weeks, managing one or two steps then sitting down. But on Sunday he was taking five or six steps at a time, with each success bringing a huge grin to his face. Zee tells me that today he’s making even more progress. Soon he’ll want to play football.

Ali’s Birthday!

Ali hit the 11 month mark today. One more and he’ll hit his 1st Birthday. Despite the misery of last night, look how happy he is. He and his mummy had a really great day together and he’s been happy in his cot this evening. Good lad.

Ali’s 11 months today. I’m trying to be up beat and think of wonderful things to say about my little boy. But I can’t. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a terrific little lad. I love him to bits. I just feel so guilty.

You see, last night I was making dinner, the oven was on and the glass door was piping hot. Ali, as is his want, was crawling around exploring. Unfortunately, as we live in an open plan home, it’s pretty difficult to keep him out the kitchen. His exploring usually leads him to the kitchen drawers, the washing machine, and occasionally the oven. A stern warning is usually enough to keep him away from the oven. Not last night. I turned my back for a couple of seconds to dish our dinner and I heard a cry from Ali.

He was standing up leaning both hands against the glass of the closed oven door screaming his head off, putting one palm on the other but not registering that he needed to drop to the floor to let go. I rushed to pick him up, and ran cold water over his palms but he was absolutely hysterical. I think he’d been leaning on the door for about 5 seconds. Maybe less. It seemed like a lifetime. The poor little man cried for an hour while we tried to immerse his hands in cold water. Zee cuddled and fed him but he wasn’t that thirsty. We gave him a bath and used a wee tupperware tub to put his hands in some cold water, but he was inconsolable. Even offering him the Pronto remote, the ultimate prize, had no affect. I knew then that he was really hurting. After various calls to friends that are GP’s we gave him calpol, medised and cuddled him to sleep. He was crying in his sleep for some time trying to settle.

Amazingly his night was not as hard as the night before. I guess the drugs really helped. We gave him more medised and ibuprofen at midnight, he woke at 0300 and then at 0645, but didn’t seem to be in pain. By 0720 he was restless to start his day. He seems fine now, though he does have a tiny little 5p sized blister on his palm. He was crawling around, quite content, when I left for work.

Things like this make you feel like the worlds worst father. I didn’t sleep well. Kept thinking about what happened, what I could have, should have, done to prevent it, or at least minimise the damage. Live and learn I guess.