Some highs and some lows

This blog entry should be a witty tale of our first trip to the UK as intrepid explorer parents, armed with a 7-week old baby, having set our sights on introducing Alec to the Kirkbride clan. Unfortunately, the British Embassy have let us down. Actually, that's not quite fair - it is the Swiss authorities who are actually to blame. It took the Swiss 5 weeks to send us Alec's birth certificate, instead of the 2 weeks that we were promised, and since the turnaround for a British overseas passport is nominally given as 6 weeks, as the days ticked by we began to feel like our UK trip might be doomed.

While we waited for the birth certificate, we dealt with the problem of the passport photo. As crazy as it may seem, a child passport that lasts 5 years needs a photo, even if this child is only a few weeks old and will look absolutely nothing like said photo by the time the passport expires. Getting a suitable photo of a then 5-week old baby has its own challenges. They should be photographed on a grey or cream background, their head and shoulders should be visible but - even though at this stage they can't really hold their heads up unaided - the parent's supporting hands should not be visible in the photo. Then are the sizing guidelines: the head should take up a certain portion of the photo, which itself must be sized with milimetre accuracy. It took us many, many attempts. Some of which were less successful than others.

Finally, with a photo that met all the many meticulous requirements, we were able to send the passport application form away, albeit with just two weeks to go until we intended to travel. Armed with the knowledge that many friends had received theirs within 5-10 days, we hoped for the best - but alas it wasn't to be. The passport didn't materialise, and although the man at the British Embassy was very helpful when we rang him in blind panic the morning before we were due to fly, all the consulates were closed for Easter and so we couldn't be supplied with an emergency travel document either. We were grounded. The Kirkbride gathering went ahead, but sadly without the newest member of the team.

Alec is growing and changing on a daily basis, so it was a shame not to be able to introduce him to everyone at this lovely stage in his life. He is now a smiler and a whooper, whose list of favourite things include his new playmat, his black and white books, the picture of a caterpillar installed alongside his changing mat, and bathtime, which remains the highlight of his day.

Playtime

'Reading' with daddy

Happy boy

Alec inexplicably wearing Andy's pants

But when life throws you a curve ball, we've found it's usually best to embrace it. So in the interests of not sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves, Family Buckley headed off for a mini ski break over the Easter weekend. This is not the first time we've managed a spot of skiing since Alec arrived - much to my surprise, we got out for a day with some friends when he was just 5 weeks old. I managed to stay upright for most of it, and surprised myself still further by finding that I had enough coordination and stamina to spend a couple of hours whizzing (well, not exactly whizzing...) down the pistes. For Easter weekend we doubled our efforts and managed to ski for two days in a row, first in Les Carroz and then in Flaine. Working as a relay team, one of us sat in a cafe with Alec while the other took to the slopes and although the faff to skiing ratio wasn't great (somehow it was still midday before we managed to get going each day), it was worth it to get out in the mountains and recapture a tiny glimpse of Life Before Baby.

There are also benefits to skiing with a baby in tow. A pram, it turns out, doubles as a trolley.

For the record, that's a baby, a changing bag, a pair of ski boots, a pair of skis and two pairs of poles being carted around by the iCandy Peach Jogger (I feel I should give it a name-check in case anyone else out there is looking to buy a hybrid baby/ski carrier).

And sitting around minding the baby while your wife skis isn't always too taxing, as Andy found out.