Like Father Like...

He's had terrible nappy rash over the last few days, we found that absolutely none of the products on offer has made a difference, except maybe E45 for comfort value. Washing him with cotton wool and warm water seems to be doing the trick. Amazing how all the years of research and investment can be wiped away with a little water and cotton wool.

Slightly off topic, but I have to whinge somewhere. No, we didn't play well, no we weren't particuraly impressive but yes we did actually win the game. Only to see a spineless referee loose his bottle and disallow a perfectly good goal, a winning goal that would have seen us in the semi-finals.

Does the subject of instant replay raise its head now, surely something needs to be done to avoid something like this happening ever again.

Since I was born I have only see England lose in weird and horrible circumstances, I was hoping my boy wouldn't have the same disapointments to deal with, but it looks like he's starting young.

England v Portugal tonight. Nothing to do but get home, open a cold beer and try and enjoy the game.

Someone stole my wiper blades yesterday, which is a bit weird to say the least, I know it was really tipping it down but thats ridiculous. Wondering if I have upset a neighbour or something...

He's not sleeping as well at the moment, seems to be on a growth spurt and wanting more and more food, more and more often. He's taken to lifting his legs in his sleep and kicking them out into the moses basket, all we hear all night long is the crackling of whicker. He's getting to the stage where we already have to consider where he will sleep now. Initially it was planned that at least the first three to four months he would be in our moses basket at the bottom of the bed, but he's so big already we think it's only got two weeks life left in it, before he's hanging out the sides.

She is desperate for him to stay in our room but his room is ready and the cot definately wont fit in our room, so it's a real dilema at the moment. We have all the gadgets to measure temperature and listen for noises etc and he'll only be a few yards away but those few yards will seem like a mile when we first separate him from us at night.

50th post today. England make it to the quarter finals, Wimbledon starts and Tim Henman wins his first match. Playing tennis in club competition tonight with my dad, we have been trying to win our club doubles competition together ever since I can remember, our best result is twice beaten finalists. I do wonder if one day I'll be lucky enough to play doubles with my son and who knows maybe win that final.

Im 32 in three weeks. This time last year I was only 30, married but no kids and with very few cares in the world. Now I'll be 32 and have all the cares in the world that come with parenthood. What a difference a year can make.

Where are the weeks going. He's ten weeks old already. My best friend returns home from America today, to a surprise party next weekend, he left only a week after our fella arrived. Amazing how quickly he can change in ten weeks, his hair is growing back, he is communicating now and he has associated his hands as a part of him and can now reach out and grab hanging toys and mummy's hair.

Best of all though is his amazing ability to buy me a father's day card and present of Lord of the Rings, Return of the King DVD. What an amazing achievement for one so young. My very first Father's day was spent with him and the grandparents, a barbecue, beer and football on the telly. Perfect.

Well James did play but still I got my prediction right, amazing. Well done England, though I hope you'll play better in the next game.

We watched the game together, I think he likes the colour green as he stares transfixed at the screen, obviously I claim he's watching the game, but the green seems to calm him as much as it excites me.

Today he has a baby massage session. Apparently they lay all the babies out on some poor suckers carpet in the lounge, strip them off and then massage them, with seven boys in the group, I'm told it can resemble one of those water fountain installations with water spraying out in all directions.

Rather them than me.

Was up at 5am yesterday, for once not because of him. Early call for an early train for an early shoot. Filming corporate (though I should say I try not to make them look corporate) communication video. Spent the day in London but trapped inside with the heat of the lights instead of the sun for company.

When I got home, late, she was very happy, he'd been a great lad all day, the happiest day so far for both of them. I missed it. He did smile when I got in though which is usually all it takes for me to be happy too.

England tonight, after devastating final minutes against France we can but hope we'll get an easy ride against the Swiss. My prediction: 3:0. Assuming we dont play Heskey or James !

Its so hot! I'm trying not to complain but us English are just not used to this global warming thing. Probably being trapped in the office doesn't help.

The temperature in our bedroom has rocketed to 27 degrees, they recommend between 15-22 ish for a baby, no amount of fan purchasing would of helped last night so we just had to pray a little have the windows as wide as possible and assume that families living with babies in hot countries were just the same. Its nerve racking reading about cot death though and then seeing the temperature rise uncontrollably, what can you do?

Went to Marlow Regatta on Saturday, had a picnic by the river watching the rowing races, took our nephew too, played in the fun fair, had ice cream, relaxed in the sunshine, almost drunk Pimms, the quintisential English summer day.

Then on Sunday we had the folks over for the day, went for long walk and built up the excitement for England v France, had some beer and some Pimms, dressed him up in his mini England soccer kit, he looked so cool. Unfortunately he didn't witness one of our great triumphs, only another of our heart breaking losses. What is it with us and big tournaments? At least, we agreed, it wasn't at the knockout stage this time, we have time to recover and as everyone keeps saying get back to the dream final with France again, only this time win.

On an aside, I've always wanted to live by the sea, consider it to be a perfect place to bring up a family, news to follow but a step closer has been taken.

He had his jabs today. Was expecting a phone call with a bawling boy as background but was greeted instead by a serene mother and sleeping child. He's a hardy fella. Will wait and see if he gets the expected fever from the innoculations, but so far so good. He's only got another two injection sessions to go!

Managed to leave work on time last night, the roads opened up to me and in a moment of unbelievable luck all the traffic jams that have been haunting my driving for the past nine months, simply vanished. Drove home as if in a dream, all lights on green, suddenly the distance to my work didn't seem a distance at all. My hour and thirty minute drive home became a mere forty minutes.

The evening was warm and with racket in hand I once again found myself on a tennis court for a match, not having played for three months, it wasn't much of a match. But reclaiming part of my old life again felt so good. I know everything has changed forever, but it's nice to find yourself back doing what you enjoy once in a while. Hell I have to keep my eye in so I can take him on court with me in years to come. Now thats something worth looking forward to.

Woke up this morning, got in the car, drove one mile and sat in traffic again, crawling to work in an hour and forty five minutes. Venus must have been smiling on me last night.

Today Venus passes in front of the sun. Yesterday a father looked after his son. Hardly comparative but in the grand scale of family things it rated quite high for me. All alone with him for the day.

Was it terrifying? Nerve racking? Boring? Hard work?

None of the above, I can safely say. I imagine I got lucky for I can understand how it can be all of the above but for me, at least on this day, it wasn't. He was happy pretty much all day long. I fed him when he cried for food, no breasts but thats been the story of all man's life, so bottle had to do, cleaned him up when he needed cleaning, gave him a bath and sat in a shady part of the garden looking at the flowers on the breeze, he was fascinated by that, natures very own mobile.

The day was warm in all the simple way things can be warm. A feel good day if ever I had one.

Coming back to work again was a wrench, a gut wrench. I need to find a job I can work from home for and quickly.

End of another working week. Should be a good end too. Tonight I have a reunion party with all my old friends from a company I worked for a few years ago, virtually all of whom lost our jobs in the dot com crash. Yet still we stay in touch and meet up occasionally, if only I could find another job with that kind of continuing connection with people. If I keep looking I must be able to find it again. So tonight I can let my hair down, if I had any and truly wet my baby's head in style.

My second long weekend in a row beckons, with Monday taken off so she can have a days pampering at a health spa and I can have him to my lonesome for the day. Exciting and nerve racking in one.

Finally, tomorrow we pick up our new car. Searching around to find one big enough to fit our pram in ended after abortive trips to Toyota and Ford (the focus being too small and the sales people too disinterested and slimey). So we ended in a Vauxhall garage, Foxs of Farnborough. Their service was fantastic and the price excellent so we pick up our new Vectra (well second hand, but it feels new to us) tomorrow morning. It comes to something when not only do we spend all our money on him, we even have to buy a new car just to fit his pram in.

Her mornings. We both wake in the night when he cries but she usually gets up, unless she isn't breastfeeding that night. The alarm goes at 6.30, she'll lie and watch me creep about around him trying to have a shower, secretly praying I wont wake him.

I'll leave and if she's lucky she'll get an extra hour, if not he'll wave me goodbye from her arms. Then she'll feed him, wash him, play with him, try and have breakfast, try and have a shower and yet still find herself in her dressing gown come lunchtime.

Very long weekend. The sun even shone on Monday. I now have a nice traffic light red head to prove it. Stupidly foregoing hat on the golf course, thinking it's not that hot. Foolish boy. Lost the match too, very rusty.

Had lovely time with him all weekend, he seemed to realise it was a holiday too, all smiles and coo's, sleeping in late, chilling out in the shade.

This is how it should be.