Gourmet Daryl

(Note: After a couple of picture posts, it's time to go back to the normal posts.)

Daryl simply loves eating. But wait a second, he isn't that crazy about his milk or congee or those sorts of baby food. He's crazy about the adult food. (When I said the word "adult", I didn't have anything remotely related to NC17 or X-rated in mind. But now I do.)

And don't blame us. We are not the culprit.

As many of you can testify under oath, you didn't kill anyone, and elderly people are sometimes are just as naughty as the young kids. They will try every trick up in their sleeves just to poke fun at and annoy you.

Perhaps we have been way too protective. We simply don't want Daryl to be exposed to any risk or danger that the smallest thing may bring about, including food and other possible allergens. So we have been extremely careful in choosing and preparing food for him.

But like many other elderly people, my mother-in-law (Oops, this is a possible landmine situation. I've got to be very careful here. Otherwise my lovely wife will spank me, hard.) loves to feed Daryl with all sorts of food. Long before Daryl had had his first tooth, she had already given him bread, rice, soup and biscuits, all these kinds of things, when we are away for work. In fact, she's so naughty that she would feed Daryl the "contrabands" when our domestic helper looks or walks the other way.

I have known her for over a decade now and have never noticed her funnier and naughtier side, until now.

I don't have a problem about the food itself, as Daryl will someday start eating them anyway. The problem is, once Daryl knows how good the adult toys, no, food tastes, he will no longer want to eat his simple, plain and tasteless baby food. That's why whenever we are having meals at home now, he would stick his neck out like a giraffe, hoping to see what we are eating.

The other day when we showed him a piece of pork chop, a big drop of saliva came straight out of his mouth and onto our dining table, just like the B-2 Spirit bombers raiding Baghdad, as if he had been starving for decades.

Of course we didn't let him eat it. But hopefully that won't make him think that we are being mean, especially when he sees how fat his daddy is, which may have led him think that his daddy has eaten all his food.

And I certainly wouldn't mind eating his healthy food.

Movie Star

Some day, Sylvester Stallone will just have to retire ...

Cover Boy

Sorry Angry Eyes, my copycat instinct has gotten the better of me. Daryl is on the cover too, courtesy of fd's Flicker Toys once again.

Daryl vs Andy Warhol

(Courtesy of fd's Flickr Toys)

You Reap What You Read

Unlike most of my colleagues (such as Angry Eyes), I have never been an avid reader, which is quite bizarre given the nature of my work. Imagine a soccer player who hates playing soccer. That is simply unimaginable and inexplicable.

In fact, I am a selective reader. I don't read a lot of things, as I often find books and texts boring. But you can still find a lot of books and magazines in my bookshelf, the reason being most of the them are related to sports.

I have always been a sports fanatic, but my interest is strictly limited to being a spectator instead of a participant. When I was a small kid, I would tape a lot of sports programmes on TV (Italian Serie A and the NFL in particular) and watch it again and again whenever I had time, and so I could and can still remember nearly every word of the commentary. For example, my man Martin Tyler reminded us, after an excellent 2-1 home win over Bologna early in the 1990-91 season, to "watch out for Sampdoria", which would go on to win its first and so far only Serie A title that season. I still have a couple of seasons' (from the early to mid-90s') worth of Serie A and NFL tapes in my cabinet, ready for me to pop into the VHS player when and if I have time.

You may say that watching the same tapes again and again has made me more laconic, which is probably true. But the flip side is, the excellent commentary of Tyler and Peter Brackley, among others, has greatly enhanced my English proficiency.

Anyway, when I finally have some (NOTE: not "a lot of") money, I decided to buy sports books, lots of them. My collection mainly consists of books on Formula One, but the number of baseball books is also increasing at a rapid rate. When Michael Lewis' "Moneyball" created a lot of controversy a couple of years ago, I immediately bought one from my trusted old friend, Amazon. And being an avid follower of Rob Neyer, I just can't miss any of his work. But despite being a huge fan of soccer and American football, I don't have too many books on them in my collection.

As for magazines, there is only one that I have been reading regularly for nearly 15 years: Sports Illustrated. It has the two things that I am looking for: Excellent coverage of sporting events (mostly in North America) and fantastic columns by renowned columnists like Rick Reilly and Steve Rushin. To say that I am trying to imitate Reilly's style in this blog, but to no avail (possibly forever), would be an understatement.

Daryl is now nine-month old, and we hope that he would pick up reading as a habit, as experts always say that it would be good for his development in terms of speaking and writing. At the moment he can only play with his toy books, and still can't turn the pages properly. I know we still have time, but being his parents, we are always worried about a lot of things.

No, we don't want to force him too much, but there are just some things that we should tell him to and not to do. We want him to love books and we want to build a nice little library for him. But instead of a sports library, we want his to be a general one, with topics involving every aspect of mankind. Otherwise he would be like me, who know nothing but sports.

But first we have to find a bigger flat, and buying a Mark Six ticket may help realise our dream.

Pressing All the Right Buttons

For some reason, Daryl loves buttons.

No, it was neither the clothes buttons, the belly button nor John and Jenson Button. He is crazy for the buttons on electronic gadgets like the remote controls and phone at home.

We found out months ago when we put him on the sofa to sit on his own, which he likes a lot. As usual, he arms were flapping like a mad bird and slapping his legs and the sofa. It was no big deal for us as he had already been doing this for quite a while at that time and we knew that he could never lift off like a plane. But suddenly, we could not longer hear the clapping sound anymore. As we were worried that something bad might have happened to him, we checked him out immediately.

Something bad had really happened, but not to him.

It turned out that something really bad had happened to our remote controls, which had been put into a bag slotted along one of the sofa's armrests.

What happened was Daryl somehow discovered the remote controls on the armrest and decided to play with it (probably out of boredom). I am not sure whether it was a touch of genius (no pun intended), but I clearly saw him aiming his index finger right at the buttons of the remote controls. Amazingly, he knew that the plastic portions of the remote controls are not meant to be pressed.

If you are wondering what bad thing had happened to the remote controls, you must have too much free time at hand to read my random and senseless thoughts on this tiny little thing called "Blog". Here you go: Do you like your entire body covered in saliva? Apparently, we were a little too late in finding out the torture he's had inflicted upon the remote controls, as he had already tasted them and found them neither tasty nor chewable when we came to their belated rescue.

Talk about damage control: In the days after, we decided to remove the batteries of one of the remote controls and let him play with it under our close supervision, in order not to inflict any more harm on it again. I am not an expert on human biology, so I have no idea how Daryl could leave so much saliva on the controls which would have drown them to death but for my intervention (I know you're thinking mouth-to-mouth resuscitation). But my wife also told me that the remote control for our TV is not functioning properly these days.

Likewise, Daryl also loves playing with the phone. He would press the buttons and be amazed by the "beeping" sounds it produces. But when we put the phone onto his ear and asked him to listen and talk to person at the other end, it looked as though he was wondering how a fluffy and messy mass of fat like Yours Truly can sneak into the tiny phone at home. He was simply stunned, perplexed by one of the greatest mysteries of mankind.

If Daryl turns out to be the second coming of Albert Einstein, a lot of credit should go to these tiny little gadgets.

And if I turn out to be really good at mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on gadgets like remote controls, full credit should go to Daryl.

When Daryl Meets Creamy

Like Harry and Sally, my beloved Liverpool and the evil Chelsea, and the almighty God and everyone one of us, Daryl and Creamy are destined to meet each other.

As many of you may have already known, before Daryl was born, my wife and I have a little (shall I say "chubby"?) companion at home. That's Creamy, a lovely little, er, chubby Schnauzer whom we treat as our own daughter (which is not to say we GAVE BIRTH to her, for Christ's sake).

Following the so-called professional advice by a number of medical practitioners, we decided to separate them after Daryl was born. And on the very day my wife went to the hospital for delivery, someone (my dad) broke into my house and kidnapped Creamy (so that she could move in with them) and asked for a huge ransom (to buy food and snacks for her).

And being as ignorant and careful as many of you may have been, we decided to follow the professional advice by not letting them to see each other before Daryl's six-month birthday. Once Daryl is more than six-month old, we decided to lift the embargo and let them meet.

You may say that we have been preparing for this day for quite a while. But the truth is, we didn't do anything special. We just wheeled Daryl to my parents' home in his pram, and voila, they had their first encounter.

Being as naughty and energetic as ever, Creamy was so curious about Daryl that she tried every trick she has learnt to reach Daryl. No, she didn't want to bite him. She just wanted to take a sniff at him, as if to see if he's got illegal drugs in his possession, as every dog will do by nature. And as if merely taking a sniff wasn't enough, she even wanted to kiss Daryl, just like a crazy fan dying to inch closer and closer to her superstar idol. But she was swiftly blocked and turned away by Yours Truly's dad and Yours Truly, the rookie tag-team bouncers.

However, that wasn't Creamy's first encounter with Daryl. Creamy always loves sleeping with us on our bed, and sometimes would kind of cry if we didn't let her to. Yet long before we were aware of my wife's pregnancy, Creamy one day suddenly decided that enough is enough and jumped off our bed, most probably because, I thought, of my seriously annoying snoring problem. But judging from the timing and her reluctance to get back onto the bed afterwards, we have every reason to believe that she knew of Daryl's existence long before everyone did. Talk about a really smart and caring dog.

Technically speaking, that wasn't their first encounter. Daryl had already visited Creamy when he was a month old. Yet he was sleeping all the way through and didn't even notice her existence. So that doesn't count.

As for Daryl, we never imagined how excited he would be when he saw Creamy. While sitting in his pram, he suddenly moved his upper body towards the front, as if he wanted to have a closer look and touch her with his hands. We had never seen him done that before, probably because nothing in our home, including us, is as attractive and lovely as Creamy to draw his full attention.

Delicate Touch

There are so many tricks that men can use to soften the toughest of hearts of women or loved ones. Well, don't ask me which of them works the best. I've been married for so long that I have forgot all those naughty tricks (I have to say this because my wife always watch this tiny little thing called "Blog"). But for Daryl, he has already mastered one of them at the young age of seven months.

We have learnt for quite a while that Daryl loves moving his arms around, no matter he is sitting on his own, or being carried by us. A couple of weeks ago, when I picked him up to my eye level, his arms moved above my shoulders, and I started to wonder what he was going to do next. (I was so scared that he would slap me as I'm not the best daddy in the world.)

He then proceeded to touch my face with his soft and tiny hands and fingers. And he looked at me with his big round eyes while doing so, kind of like wondering who the heck I really am.

I was really surprised. I was surprised not only because he managed to do so, but also by the tenderness and warmth of his tiny hands. I can tell you, it's one of the most wonderful feelings in the world. My heart simply melts when he moves his hands along my face.

The more his does this, the more I understand why he is doing so. Daryl is curious about our face, especially the big clumsy metal-cum-plastic thing which we call spectacles. But unlike the maddeningly unpredictable ways his arms are moving when he is sitting alone, he is always very gentle and slow when touching my face, as if he knows my face is a work of fine art (by God of course).

And when I found out that he does the same thing to anyone who is holding him, no matter it's a man or a woman, I wasn't jealous at all. I said to my wife, "I think Daryl is going to do the same thing to all the girls he's going to meet, and the girls will love it." To which my wife responded, "You've lost your mind!"

She cannot be more right. Daryl's hands are really driving me crazy.

Godmothers

Because of the incredible amount of stuff in our home ("They're enough to support a dozen people," said our domestic helper), I always say that we have a lot of EVERYTHING in the world. The only thing we don't have is money.

And the same goes for Daryl. He has no money yet (What? You think he has a million-dollar bank account? He will if any of you give him, or us, one.), but has a lot of clothing, toys and other stuffs.

And no, he doesn't have one godmother. He has TWO in fact.

These two crazy girls are two of my very best friends. They are my high-school classmates, and they love children a lot, and one of them has been other kids' godmothers before.

How crazy are they? They once said that we can simply concentrate on supporting Daryl's study and buying his food, and they will take care of all his clothing. Then during the very hot summer days, they told us that they have already bought a super-warm quilt gown for him. And when scorching summer finally ended and the weather became cold, they decided to tell us that they have bought some swimming wears (notice the "s") for him.

And a quick check into Daryl's wardrobes confirms our belief: We, as his parents, have only bought him the cheapest of clothes from the cheapest of places. Meanwhile, almost all of his "designer" clothing are bought by his godmothers.

But their "donation" is strictly "in kind". When we suggested them make stock or fund investment for Daryl, they flatly said no, as "stocks and funds won't make Daryl prettier!"

Sometimes they are evil. They would sneak into our home when we were away at work and visit Daryl. As they have already won over the trust of our domestic helper, we are really worried that one day they will kidnap Daryl and ask for a huge ransom.

And they are also the main reason why we have to move. They always threatened us that if we don't move to a bigger place, there will not be enough room to store the things they have bought for Daryl. We, as kind and friendly as always, have no choice but to accommodate their request.

But at the rate they're buying things for Daryl, we'll soon have to acquire the flats (notice the dreaded "s" again) next to us, just to have enough room for us go to the toilet without tripping over.

Nevertheless, Daryl is a lucky boy. We always thank God that everyone loves him a lot, and it's really a blessing for him to have two such caring and loving godmothers.

Hanging out

Believe it or not, Daryl likes going out a lot, even though he's only seven-month old.

Apart from visiting the clinic for regular check-ups, Daryl's first "official" outing was to his maternal grandparents' home when he was just over a month old. And he started having tea with us on a regular basis the following month.

One day when we were shopping at a department store with him, we went to one of the many children's wear shops and, amazingly, Daryl was clearly on a high. How high was he? He smiled and even laughed very loudly when we asked him whether a certain piece of clothing is pretty or not, and whether he wanted it. It's obvious that he still doesn't understand that there is no free lunch in the world, but when we saw him that happy and excited, we decided to buy fewer clothes for ourselves but more for him anyway!

Recently, we decided to have a crazy shopping day at a far-away shopping mall. We spent nearly seven hours there and had bought nearly two dozens pieces of clothes for us altogether. But the thing to note is: When we were shopping and wheeling Daryl around, we could hear him yell extremely loudly. He did it not just once, but many times instead. When I first heard that, I thought he was complaining that he was bored and wanted to get out of his pram for some much-needed walking exercises. But when we asked our expert (who happens to be our domestic helper) about it, she said that Daryl was not bored, but was excited and liked the place instead!

I am worried that he may soon become the youngest shop-aholic in mankind history.

But having Daryl in the mall has other perks too. I have quickly lost count on how many people have stopped and looked at his pretty face, and I can even hear some of them whispering that how much he looks like one of us (most of them said that Daryl is like my "Mini-Me"). But it's a shame that we haven't been offered special discounts because of him though.

Yet judging from the steady increase of his loveliness over the last couple of months, the odds are we will finally get the discounts or even freebies very soon.

He Walks the Walk But Doesn't Talk the Talk (Yet)

I know I have talked about it before, but I just can't resist talking about it again.

Yes, I'm going to talk about Daryl's attempt to walk.

As mentioned in a previous entry, we started teaching Daryl how to walk a couple of months ago. At first he was like a budding tree, who was so weak and fragile that any tiny force (or even breeze) could make him fall and even topple over.

But when he was four to five months old, we noticed that his bones and muscles have grown stronger. And just like Eason Chan, he has very strong and stocky legs. So we started to teach him how to walk.

We would pick him up by his armpits and let him walk along our couch. At the beginning he had no idea what we were doing, perhaps thinking that we wanted to pick him up but didn't have enough strength. But then we patiently taught him how to lift his legs and, magically, he could lift his legs one by one by himself!

It is such a wonderful feeling to see him walk. We can see that his eyes were focusing on his knees and legs, and every step he would lift his knee high, as if walking along a knee-deep quagmire. His steps are huge, as if he wants to cover the width of the couch in as few strides as possible so that he can take a rest, as he is often seen panting after such walk.

And I can tell you that we have just got the letter from the Guinness officials congratulating him for setting a world-record time in walking along our couch. Sweet.

As for talking, he still hasn't mastered the muscles and vocal chords yet. But judging from the huge strides (no pun intended) he made when learning to walk, I suspect that he will be a chatter-box once he learns how to talk.

And that is not necessarily a bad thing, especially when his Daddy has long been criticized for being dumb and laconic by his friends.

He Got Flair

Daryl was born six months ago to this very minute (5:28 p.m.). So first of all, happy six-month birthday to Daryl!

We have heard oh-so many times that Daryl looks and behaves more mature than his age. When we tell people that he is only six months old, people would look at us in disbelief, saying that he looks like a one-year-old. In terms of weight, he isn't that heavy. Many babies of his age are heavier than his weight of 18 pounds. And in terms of height, he isn't very tall as his parents are, sadly, both vertically-challenged (no, we're not suffering from dwarfism).

It's from his behaviour and demeanor that we can see his "maturity". He has been able to sit up by himself for a couple of months now, and a little over a month ago, we could pick him up by his armpits and help him walk. Amazingly, Daryl is able to swing his strong and stocky legs one by one, as if imitating the walking motion.

Although he still can't master his vocal chords to produce any meaningful sound, he certainly displays his fondness of talking (unlike his parents) by often being the noisiest person at home. Very often he would "Er", "Ee" or "Ah" the entire morning, as if waking us up and inviting us to play with him.

And he loves to smile. Sometimes he would smile by himself for no particular reason at all. But more often than not, he would smile when we play with him. He is particularly excited playing the drummer or driver on my lap, or read his "Puppy Book", and smiles the brightest. And when we make some funny sounds in front of him, he would simply look at us and, after a brief moment or so, start to smile. His smile has been so attractive and mesmerizing that everyone has fallen for him.

Many people believe that boys nowadays don't have a clue on how to deal with girls. Some may say that many boys are simply like girls. Judging by the number of girls surrounding him since his birth, and by the flair and poise he has been displaying in front of them, we are not worried for Daryl in that regard at all.

Oh Doctor! (Part Deux)

Babies as young as Daryl usually need not see a doctor yet, as they all enjoy a six-month probation … oops, no, sorry, immunity period. People say that babies will not get sick during their first six months, as their mothers have given them all the immunity they have to possess.

But unfortunately for Daryl, he has already become a frequent visitor of our family doctor.

On a Wednesday in late October, Daryl started to have a slight fever after a routine injection at a Government outpatient clinic. This is something very normal and was not a cause for concern at all.

But that was just the beginning of the story.

Since he was still having a fever the day after, I decided to take a day off to look after him (yeah, and to skip work, or whatever). But somehow I myself started to have a fever, which eventually led to my three medical consultations in less than a week (yeah, and a couple of days of sick leave).

Meanwhile, Daryl's fever persisted for some days, and he developed other symptoms like coughing and sneezing as well. So on the following Monday, we decided to bring him to our family doctor, who is notorious for giving extremely strong and drowsy medicine.

However, Daryl was still coughing and sneezing after taking all the medicine. (I guess he must have been smoking and snorting stuffs when I was not around. I'll ask him later.) And he was obviously a little dazed and groggy (stoned?) after taking the medicine. So we had to take him there for a follow-up consultation on Saturday and by then, the doctor and nurses there all remembered him and said he's such a calm and good boy who looks like he's thinking all the time, just like a philosopher as his name suggests!

And when my parents also fell ill (possibly because we had spread the viruses to them) and visited the doctor, the nurses somehow know that Daryl is their grandson, despite the fact that I have never told them about it, and I haven't been to the clinic with my parents for literally ages. What's even more amazing is that they can all remember Daryl's FULL NAME in both Chinese and English, prompting my dad to say that "Daryl must be a very lovely baby. Otherwise they won't remember him that well!" He is a very proud grandfather indeed.

Home Sweet Home

After spending months searching for a new flat, we finally found one, and have now moved in.

It wasn't easy at first. There simply wasn't much flat available close to where we were living when we started. If there was one, it was either too expensive or simply too dilapidated. We don't mind living in flats of poor conditions, but we also have to take Daryl into consideration. We want him to grow up in better places.

So we spent many weekends visiting flats with property agents, who can sometimes be quite obnoxious and annoying. If you hate receiving cold calls, then you will probably detest the company of property agents. They are just the same.

In late October, we finally found one we like a lot. It has recently been renovated, and is quite close to my parents' home as well. Then the next (and probably the most important) thing to do was to bargain. However, the owner stood firm, and we are not the best of bargain hunters. The result: One of the sides is very happy.

Then we suddenly remembered what we had forgotten: Daryl hadn't visited the new flat yet! Older people say that people should bring along their babies when visiting flats. If the baby is happy, then the flat is good and "clean". If the baby cries, then it isn't.

When we finally brought Daryl along to the flat, we had already done all the paper work, which means that we have reached the point of no return. Worried, we showed him the flat and much to our relief, Daryl was smiling and very happy in our new home. He likes it a lot! Thanks Jesus!

And after thorough cleaning, we decided to move in on a Saturday in late November. The actual moving work took almost half a day, as we indeed have loads of things (we were told that there are enough things for a dozen people to live in). We also took Daryl to his godmother's home, lest he would be scared by the noise and the dust of the chaos. Turns out that he was scared by the sound of the piano there! And after two more days of unpacking the 50-plus boxes and drilling holes for boards and stuffs, we finally have a "brand new" home!

Oh Doctor!

Like many other kids in Hong Kong, Daryl is a victim of eczema.

When we found some colourless "dots" on his body, we were extremely worried that he might be suffering from some kind of serious (such as measles) or mysterious diseases (such as, well, I have no idea).

But when we also noticed that he was not having a fever, and wasn't even crying at all, we became less worried, as babies will usually cry a lot if he feels extremely uncomfortable.

We tried finding out the reasons for his "dots", and we thought that the culprit was a new bathing shampoo which, ironically, was bought at the Baby Expo at HKCEC. So we stopped using it and reverted to the old one.

Yet when I was just about leaving home for work the other day (shortly before his three-month birthday), I noticed that the number of "dots" had increased. Although he was not having any other symptoms, I immediately decided to take him to a doctor to find out what's wrong with him (so that I could skip work).

Actually I was not that worried. When the doctor called his name through the PA system, I was not worried about what his diagnosis would be. Instead I felt so wonderful because his name had been announced through the PA system! Believe me, there is no other thing which is as wonderful as hearing someone else calling your child's name (in a polite manner of course).

As expected, the doctor said that he was only suffering from eczema, and luckily it was only a very mild one. In fact Daryl didn't look like a patient at all and was smiling a lot at the clinic. The doctor also gave us a lot of cream and ointment especially for him. Hopefully his eczema will be gone soon.

A New Home

We are definitely not rich. We cannot afford a place of our own, and we have been staying at someone else's home for the last couple of years. So far, so good.

But we were told recently that we can't live there anymore, and were asked to move away as soon as possible.

Two years ago when we moved in, there were only two members in the family. Now there are four. That means we have to find somewhere bigger, somewhere which can give Daryl as much room to play and move around as possible.

Two years ago when we moved in, the rent (What? You thought we sneaked into someone else's place to live?) was at an all-time low, particularly the flat we are now renting. And when we started to find a new place to rent, we were simply startled by the unreasonable price that some of the owners are asking for.

A case in point: A derelict flat (albeit in a major blue-chip housing estate) with no decoration but extremely dirty and smelly kitchen and toilet can cost somewhere near $15K. I won't live there even if I am PAID $15K per month.

We thought of buying a flat on our own, yet the price is even more unreasonable. A brand-new standalone building at Shau Kei Wan cost you $6,000 per square feet, but the bedroom can be smaller than your bed. Go figure.

Our decision: Rent another flat, even if that means we have to pay a lot more for a place not much bigger than the one we are now living in. And after months of searching and bargaining, we have found a decent one which, although considerably more expensive, is an ideal place for Daryl given its coziness.

Hopefully we have made the right choice for him.

Four Months

Dear Daryl,

Today is your four-month-old birthday. So Happy Birthday to you!

From the time of seeing you being just a tiny little baby when you were born, to being such a healthy and happy baby now, we always thank God how wonderful things have turned out to be.

We were worried about everything before, during and after you were born, worried that you might be hungry or not feeling well. But thank God for lending us a big helping hand and you are now such a big and strong fella who is willing to drink milk and is seldom naughty.

You are such a tidy and clean baby that you would cry when you want to have a bath, but smile while taking and enjoying one.

You can sit or even stand for a short while now. And very often we would simply put you on the sofa, watching you sitting and watching TV. Like Mommy says, you are a TV baby, a close relative of the Teletubbies.

And you don't seem to mind the flashes of the cameras, as you have got used to it since the day you were born. Mommy and daddy are both photo-taking freaks, just like the paparazzis, and you are the Hollywood star.

And you are such a blessed baby that you not only have the love of grandparents and us, but also that of your two crazy godmothers who are willing to spend a fortune on your clothes and toys. I always tell them to subscribe a fund for you instead, but they flat out said no, saying that the funds won't make you more lovely.

You can utter a lot of sounds now, but still can't master the skills to say "Mommy" or "Daddy". Hopefully you would learn to speak quickly. And judging from the abundance of saliva running out of your mouth, it's highly likely that you will learn it really soon.

And we will soon see your first teeth too. Mommy says that she's noticed some white dots in your lower gum, and believes that these are your teeth. Well, that means you can start biting and chewing things really soon. And hopefully you won't bite us.

Best Wishes,

Your Mommy and Daddy

Nanny Dandy

When both parents have to work, it's a must to find someone to take care of the baby at home. And when there are no family members or relatives to do it for you, you have to find a domestic helper to carry out the duty, in addition to the household chores.

As my wife and I are both very busy with our work, we decided to employ a domestic helper to help take care of Daryl. As it turned out, our helper not only does the household chores well, she also takes very good care of Daryl.

But that has led to an unexpected twist.

The helper was on leave the other day, and I soon found out that we were in deep trouble, as Daryl simply refused to eat. Each time I tried with a bottle of freshly made milk, he would only drink an ounce of it and then stopped. From 6:30 in the morning to around 8:30 in the evening, he had only taken four ounces of milk, and the only thing he wanted to suck was his pacifier. We were extremely worried. When the helper came home, we told her what happened, and then she immediately tried a new bottle.

And Daryl promptly started drinking, and finished the bottle in no time at all.

Daryl has got so used to helper's feeding that he would not eat unless it's her feeding him. And does it mean that he will only listen to the helper in the future?

We surely hope not.

Tiny Hands

Daryl has been trying to use his hands since being born. And recently he has discovered some of their major functions.

Firstly, he can finally grab his toys with his fingers. We have been trying to teach him how to use his hands and fingers, and we often pick up some of his many free toys (courtesy of his crazy crazy godmothers) and shake them in front of him like an idiot, hoping that he could pick up one of them and shake it like crazy. But we failed on both counts. First, he is still having difficulties picking up his toys, and we have to put one in his hands and wrap his fingers around it, so that he could hold it properly. Second, he is not crazy at all, and although he can only raise his toys, he hasn't figured out how to shake them yet. Perhaps he doesn't want to act like an idiot like we do.

Secondly, he can finally suck his hands. The other day, when all of us were asleep, we were awakened by the "jeep" noise (the kind of noise you should never produce when eating or drinking) in our room. When we woke up trying to find out what it was, we saw Daryl sucking his both hands like crazy. We were amazed by how happy he looked to be, and how noisily he was sucking. And we felt like an idiot watching him suck his hands happily in the middle of the night.

And thirdly, through learning how to use his hands, he found out a very important secret: We are in fact two happy idiots in front of him.

Fast Observer-cum-Learner

Again it's something I didn't witness.

Mommy told me that whenever I leave home for work, Daryl would start to cry and make a lot of noises, as if he wanted to go to work with me.

It's really fascinating. No matter how sweet Daryl has been sleeping early in the morning, when I wake up preparing for work, he would also wake up, as if he wanted to become a personal alarm clock for me.

And Mommy also told me that no matter how sweet Daryl has been sleeping late in the afternoon, he would always wake up sometime around six o'clock, as if preparing to welcome me home from work.

Wow!

I didn't realise how much my influence was when I started keeping Creamy as a pet a couple of years ago. Many people say that pets behave like their owners, and for sure a lot of people say that Creamy is wonderfully lovely, mesmerisingly stunning, and fantastically clever.

And now when I look at Daryl, I finally realise my every single move is etched into his mind forever. He already knows when I wake up, when I leave home and when I will be back each day. He's such a smart baby.

And I am sure he will very soon figure out when I have to pee.

Tough Fist

Like a lot of parents, we want to capture the growth of Daryl with something "tangible". And while we have taken a lot of pictures and videos of him, trying to record his gradual growth each and every day, these pictures and videos are something "intangible", something you can't grab hold of, literally.

That's why we decided to spend some money for the molding of his tiny hands and feet, when he is still a toddler.

We went to an apartment somewhere in Causeway Bay for the molding, and our two-month old Daryl was extremely nervous, just as what we had expected. We wanted him to make a palm when making the mold, yet due to his nervousness and discomfort, he only made a fist, which was a little disappointing to us.

And more frustratingly, he fell asleep shortly after the molding and he was so relaxed that he had straightened all his fingers, making his palm lines easy to read.

By making a palm, we would have been able to read his palm lines clearly, thus giving us some idea about his characters and future development.

Yet by making a fist, we will only be reminded time and again that we had forgot to trim his fingernails before leaving home for molding on that special day.

Cries Baby Cries

Like all other babies and children, Daryl is highly vulnerable to physical discomfort. The only way out for them is to cry. That's why it is oh so common to see a baby crying due to hunger, tiredness and wetness in his diaper. However, the very first time you see your baby cry like that is a worrying moment indeed.

The other day, his godmother visited us and brought along a lot of toys. Everything was fine and perfect until around 9:30 p.m., Daryl suddenly woke up and started crying madly. We had never seen him cry like that before. He was crying so desperately that not even our hugs or a bottle of freshly brewed milk could comfort him. We were so worried that we thought of taking him to the hospital.

Then my wife decided to go through the extensive collection of our "library" to find out what's wrong with him. One of the books said that babies would cry madly if their tummy is in discomfort. If that's the case, we should massage his tummy in a clock-wise direction. We decided to follow the instructions and luckily, Daryl soon felt a lot better and was quickly asleep, as crying itself is an exhausting exercise for babies.

Lucky for us that we have the books pinpointing his problems and telling us what we should do.

And lucky for us that none of us is illiterate so that we can read. It is a huge blessing indeed.

Mindless Daddy, Joyous Baby

I was so careless that I didn't remember a very important day.

Yesterday was Daryl's two-month-old birthday!

Being occupied by my work and stricken with sickness yet again, my mind was all over the place and I simply didn't remember this very special day for him. Now talk about a bad father: I didn't buy him any present when he was a month old, and now, I almost forgot this special day had Mommy not reminded me in the morning.

And this blog entry would not have existed had one of Daryl's godmothers not asked me to write it!

Daryl doesn't look like a two-month old baby. If I bring him down on the streets and ask the passers-by how old he looks like, I suspect most of them will say that he looks like five or six months old (and that I am a lunatic).

Looking back, time really flies and I still remember everything when Daryl was born. Mommy's admission to hospital, me waiting outside the ward, more waiting inside the ward, and the entire birth process. It seems like they all happened yesterday.

To me, Daryl's major achievement this month is that he has learned how to smile. When I see him smile, well, all my troubles will really be gone.

First Encounter

One thing I should have talked about earlier is Daryl's first encounter with Creamy.

My wife and I always believe that Creamy, our pet schnauzer, was the first to know the presence of Daryl in Mommy's tummy more than ten months ago. And we often told Creamy that Daryl will be a little brother for her and asked her to take good care of him.

Yet since we were worried that Daryl may be allergic to Creamy's fur (allergy for babies can be serious), we decided to relocate Creamy to my parents' home and planned to take her back when Daryl is at least six months old. So Daryl and Creamy had never met.

On July 9 (that's before the start of this blog), they met for the very first time. Creamy was excited to see us just like before. When she saw Daryl, she kept on jumping (just millimetres short of the world record), hoping to smell him and lick his tiny feet.

This time we were well-prepared. We never put Daryl down and carried him high into our arms, just in case Creamy got a little too excited. As expected, Creamy kept jumping tirelessly and was obviously very curious about him. However, we refused to allow her to get too close to Daryl. That's why Creamy sounded like complaining when she made some funny noises. ("I really wanted to smell and lick his smooth skin," she said through an interpreter afterwards.)

As for Daryl, he remained calm, collected and asleep throughout, without being disturbed or scared by her jumpy canine buddy.

Daryl (in) the Boxer

Experts say that one of the reasons why many guys nowadays don't look or act like a man is that they had suffered traumas in their childhood. And that includes forcing them to wear blouses instead of trousers when they were babies.

We always want Daryl to be a real man, a man of commitment, affection, courage, bravery and manhood (in no particular order). That's why we gave him a new outfit the other day.

A pair of boxers.

Actually it's a pair of cotton boxer shorts (on top of, not underneath his diaper of course). I was told over the phone by Mommy to expect a surprise about Daryl's clothing. When I first saw him, I thought he looked exactly the same as I did, when I was wearing a white T-shirt and blue shorts at the P.E. lessons during my secondary school days a millennium ago.

With the continuous growth of his bones and muscles, Daryl has started to move his arms and legs around frantically these couple of weeks, as if to check whether they are functioning properly. (Question: How can he ask for a refund?) And whenever he moves his arms around, I have to make sure that I don't get too close to him as his left hook and right jab are powerful enough to knock me out cold.

And I also have to make sure that his powerful kicks would not hit me in the groin area, in case he wants to practise Muay Thai.

Bon Appetit!

I have no idea whether Guinness keeps any record on this, as Daryl achieved quite an amazing feat this Wednesday (August 2).

In a span of a little more than three hours in the afternoon, he took some 13 ounces of milk powder in total without spilling any.

And he promptly fell asleep soon afterwards.

13 ounces. That would be around 390 millilitres, a little more than a can of Coke. I know a lot of people can't finish a can of Coke no matter how much time they have. How on earth can his little stomach take in so many liquid in such a short period of time? Goodness only knows.

Actually he has been eating a lot more than the suggested serving. The can of Wyeth S26 milk powder suggests a baby of his weight take four ounces of milk powder per meal and some six meals per day. That means he should have taken around 24 ounces of milk powder per day. Yet he often takes eight to ten meals per day, and sometimes he would take up to five ounces per meal. We don't need to be a rocket scientist to tell that he has eaten too much.

Neither do I nor my wife has tall genes, and Daryl's drinking binge worries us in the sense that the growth of his body may concentrate mainly in his belly and hips. We don't want him to gain weight at the expense of his height.

Could anyone please tell me where to find a basketball team for month-old babies?

Watching and Listening

Daryl has big, black and round eyes just like his mother, which is good news to us because if his eyes were like mine, I wouldn't be able to find them!

And some seven weeks after birth, he can finally capture the movement of the things moving in front of him, and can even manage to tell us that he can finally see them clearly!

I wasn't around when the magic moment came, but Mommy told me that Daryl could finally watch the Combi toy rotating above his head and follow their movement. And even more amazingly, when the toy's music stopped, he uttered some sound, which is markedly different from the sound when he's hungry or having wetted his diaper, as if he wanted Mommy to restart the toy and play the music again.

We always wanted Daryl to utter more sounds, as he has the most wonderful voice we have ever heard. Hopefully he will master his vocal chords soon, be articulate enough and to become the official spokesperson of our family.

And with his great voice, is he a broadcaster in-the-making?