OK, so we’d survived the night of all of us in one room. Just about.
And we’d had an incredible holiday in Austria (more in future posts).
But we really hit a low point with the security check on the way back. I mean, we’ve only been flying for twenty years…
First with Sophie and now with Harry I have signed myself up to the “dream feed” – a late evening bottle to give them a boost and stop them waking my wife up earlier than she needs on the night shift.
It’s always been a special time of bonding with the children, where I can do my bit to help out and look after them in a way they absolutely need.
Six months in though and the parameters have changed and my body is starting to feel the pace…
Have you ever seen those tiny toddlers who zip down ski slopes as if they haven’t a care in the world?
Well, I’m a Dad who dreams big…and my wish for Sophie is that she could use her tender years to her advantage and be like those daredevil children.
So, just a couple of weeks after her 3rd birthday, armed with a waterproof suit and boundless optimism (from me anyway), Sophie and I headed off at the crack of dawn to Chill Factor…
How would she get on?
I realise that blog title makes me sound like I did a really sacrifical thing for Mothers Day this year.
Conscious of my wife’s incredible mothering, I gave her a day off and looked after the children all day, by myself.
That’s a little misleading…
When I was left in charge of getting both children out of the house today, all was going really well.
Both Sophie and Harry were dressed, fed and watered and were all set for Sophie’s dancing class. We were well ahead of schedule and set to actually be early for an organised event.
(This was made all the more remarkable by the fact my wife – normally our chief family organiser – was out doing Park Run for the first time since Harry was born)
As I put Harry into the car seat in the living room in preparation, I smiled to myself in a congratulatory way.
How overconfident can you get…
When Donald Trump sits down at the end of his first 100 days as US President, he’ll do what countless world leaders have done before him and reflect on his achievements.
He’ll look back at the terror and bigotry he’s inspired and probably think was it worth it? He’ll consider his lowest approval ratings in presidential history and wonder if it’s him or the country that needs to change.
And, just like all those historical leaders, he’ll weigh up if he’s achieved what he wanted to do.
For those of us watching on, his first 30 days have been a car crash. It’s frightening what he might do in the following 70.
Regardless, 100 days seems like a decent time to reflect on what’s happened and as Harry reaches that milestone it’s awe-inspiring to think about what he’s already achieved.
100 days ago he barely opened his eyes, found feeding a trial and did not know anything about the world around him.
Three months on and he’s come a long way.
Change is always tricky to manage, especially all the emotions and frustrations that come hand-in-hand with it.
Imagine if you’re not even three years old yet. That can’t be easy.
Can you remember your first sleepover?
While I don’t remember my first time sleeping over somewhere different, I tend to associate sleepovers with Championship Manager marathons, bad films, sweets and very little sleep.
Anybody else have similar thoughts?
Well, Sophie had her first friend sleep over in her bedroom recently and while the Playstation stayed well and truly off, there was still plenty of fun and games. Continue reading
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.
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…