Month: January 2017

Roger Federer made me fall in love with tennis – I hope he wins

There are many sportsmen and women who have influenced me. As a sportslover, I have got a huge amount of respect for all professional athletes and there are too many to mention who have impacted and inspired me.

Michael Johnson’s breathtaking 200m in Atlanta and dominance of the 400m kept me hooked on athletics, not to mention the javelin throwing of Jan Zelezny and Steve Backley.

Alan Shearer led the charge for Blackburn Rovers before the likes of Damien Duff, Matt Jansen and Tugay kept me interested (how far away from those days we are.)

Va’iga Tuigamala,  Jason Robinson and Frano Botica’s stunning rugby league skills bought Wigan Warriors a place in my heart.

Roger Federer though, almost exclusively for tennis, is right up there.


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3rd birthday parties – a sensory overload

Harry has just started a Baby Sensory class with my wife on a day when Sophie is at nursery.

Run by an old friend of ours, Rachel, Hartbeeps has been a great experience for him (and my wife), especially if the array of outfits, comedy headgear and smiling photographs is anything to go by.

I’ve not been yet but my sole experience of Baby Sensory – or Toddler Sensory more like – was at a third birthday party of Sophie’s nursery friend recently.


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Diddy Dance – Sophie’s latest sporting exploits

This blog has charted accounts of swimming, gymnastics and football. Such is the varied life of a toddler these days.

However, a New Year brings new beginnings and after my wife successfully secured (captured? grabbed? ensnared?!) Sophie’s attention with Strictly Come Dancing, last week saw myself and my little girl foxtrotting down to a toddler dance session at a local high school.


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Potty Training: Overcome by Chicken Pox

With the house in lockdown, potty training was gathering pace.

My wife didn’t leave our four walls for three days and Sophie was really getting the hang of it.

Then, chicken pox struck…

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Lockdown: Potty Training

Three days into Potty Training.

I’ve not left the house for almost 72 hours.

A lot of blood, sweat and tears has been spilled.

Our little girl is sick to death of the little green toilet we keep asking her to sit on.

But, whisper it quietly, I think we might be getting somewhere.

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