Engelbert

Right. It's been a while. Sorry. I've had a bit of an Olympics hiatus. Or writer's block. Or something. I don't want anyone to think that my delightful daughters have failed to provide any source material. Their lives, development and idiosyncrasies have been as entertaining as ever. I've just been too busy watching other people running and swimming and throwing stuff to document any of it. Let's see if I can remember any.

Our youngest now has seven teeth. It bothers my obsessive compulsive side ever so slightly that this is an uneven number, but I find it possible to forgive her on account of her asymmetrical grin being so massively endearing. As she draws within sight of her first birthday, her critical awareness of herself and her surroundings - or the first signs of healthy cynicism - are becoming apparent. Yet she continues to produce this grin with very pleasing regularity. Things which amuse her sufficiently include: waving, clapping, me saying "Ping!", her mother being within eyeshot, her sister laughing, her sister running away from her, hiding behind the curtains, being found behind the curtains.

She is also now rather good at standing up and even shuffling about on two feet as long as she has something to lean on. Or during the moments when she is no longer leaning on something, but has not yet realised this. Fortunately, she is also adept at falling over safely. Most of the time.

You may by now have inferred that our eldest is turning out to be a most excellent big sister. The two of them are developing an interdependent relationship which is almost always beneficial. Our eldest takes great pride and joy in enticing her little sister into a game of 'Run/Crawl Up and Down the Room as Quickly as Possible, Ideally Whilst Laughing.' Sometimes I join in, whether they invite me to or not. I must admit that it's surprisingly good fun although, if I'm honest, they need to work on the name.

When one laughs, the other laughs. When one cries, the other cries, often after enquiring sympathetically about the cause of distress. Even during these times of mutual woe, I am compelled to glow with paternal pride, my big, soppy heart bursting through my cliche of a chest.

When our firstborn displays maturity like this, I struggle to remember that she is not yet two-and-a-half years old. It doesn't help that she is the size of a four year-old. Nor that I have no real understanding of the age at which these developments normally take place. But I'm pretty sure most people are a bit older before they start calling their dad by his first name. She doesn't fully understand that this is what she is doing, but that doesn't stop it being funny and unsettling in equal measure.

Now. The arbitrary insistence on anonymity which I have always maintained on this blog is going to make this difficult to explain. Let's assume that my name is Engelbert. (It's not. Or is it? Ahhh...) My daughter has arrived at the conclusion that Engelbert is a word which must precede a request, for example: "Engelbert, can I have some ketchup please, Daddy?" She really is that polite, and also that keen on ketchup: just two more sources of my immense pride in her.

Other incidents and significances have occurred. I could, for example, mention the fact that my recent, restful week off work coincided perfectly with everyone having tonsillitis, or that my outstanding wife has recently gone into craft overdrive, creating a road mat, some cuddly robots and - only this evening - an excellent and inadvertently Cyndi Lauper-esque doll, to name but a few.

I could mention these and other things, but I must break myself back in gently from my Olympics hiatus. I can't even think of a funny joke to end with, so I'll just abruptly stop.

Cousins: something to aspire to.

We have recently enjoyed visits from both my wife's sister (from Canada) and mine (from Essex. But anyone who has had the pleasure of traversing the A12 will find this journey equally admirable), and their respective families. My sister has two sons, nine and seven, and my wife's sister has a two year-old boy and a one year-old girl. All have their own interesting and varied characteristics, to be endured or enjoyed accordingly by those in their company. As a proud and doting uncle I should stress that enjoyment is overwhelmingly the more common response in each case.

As well as the usual pleasure derived by my family from visits by these families, it has occurred to me that - as a parent - I now view such occasions with added import. I cannot help but regard our niece and nephews in the context of my daughter's potential, and hope that she will grow up to share some of their best qualities.

Our eldest nephew is, by all accounts, very very clever. He possesses an encyclopaedic knowledge of the UK motorway network (the utility of which will, I am sure, reveal itself in due course), and effortlessly outclasses me at mental arithmetic. And I'm no numerical slouch. I value an enquiring mind very highly, and sincerely hope - with some confidence - that our daughter will show levels of intelligence even approaching his.

His brother is relaxed charm personified. This ability to remain calm under pressure means that he shows an increasing prowess at, for example Wii bowling, not to mention football. Needless to say, this is an extremely valuable quality. I have already been working hard to develop my daughter's interest in sport, and the early signs are promising. Much to her mother's chagrin, her apparent passion for watching television is at its strongest during the football. Or the cricket. Or even the rugby. And I'm not even that bothered about rugby.

Our Canadian nephew constitutes an unprecedented bundle of energy and enthusiasm. Other jaded parents who speak of their loved ones as people who "never stop" are but amateurs, yet to experience true relentlessness. Rest assured that he will drain every ounce of mischief from any building he enters. And he gets away with it all. Because he, at two years old, is a people person. He makes charmingly appropriate use of please and thank you, remembers people's names and, when all else fails, he brings out the grin. This is a grin which, in tandem with his big brown eyes, cannot be resisted. In this respect also, our daughter shows early promise. Please, thank you, and names are as yet beyond her, but the grin is coming along very nicely indeed.

Our niece, last year, underwent harrowing surgery which would be a traumatic ordeal for someone of any age, let alone under a year, as she was then. This was a very difficult time for her family, friends, and anybody who knows her. The one person who held their resolve, and kept smiling throughout was our niece herself, who made less fuss than I do when I cut my fingernails a bit too short and it's all sore for a day or two. This kind of dignified resilience is a rare quality, and one which I would be immensely proud to see in my daughter, but hopefully not in similar circumstances. Our niece also demonstrates adorable maternal instincts, which were demonstrated last week by the hugs and kisses she insisted on bestowing upon our daughter. Both young ladies seemed to enjoy this bond, as did we. Although we did have to stop her from sharing all her food with our daughter, whose digestive system isn't quite ready for such generosity.

Clearly any sane and sensible parent wants their child to develop the best possible characteristics. What is interesting is how parents determine which characteristics these are. Only from experience have I truly understood that you define the best as that which you see in those you love.

I won't sleep tonight if I don't temper this with some healthy cynicism, so I feel I should also raise the possibility that the qualities I identify in others are simply those I see in myself, in my more egotistical moments (of which there are many). But whatever the cause, the effect seems to be good, so that's ok really.