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.
One’s spiky, hairy and fearsomely aggressive.
The other? Well of course it’s… Continue reading
As part of Sophie’s new ability to “share”, she happily passed on one aspect of her illness this week.
And unfortunately for me, it affected the main thing I need in order to do my job properly…
For when you’re a teacher, your key weapon is your voice.
Without it, you are left defenceless.
Particularly on a Parents Evening week!
Sophie has just moved up a room at nursery to the Teenies, a place where 18-24 month olds cause carnage. I’m not sure that’s exactly what the publicity for the room says but it’s something similar!
We’re thrilled as all her friends are in that room and shed quite outgrown Baby 2.
However, if the end result replicates anything similar to this week’s angry outbursts, I might not be quite so sure about it!
When the Back to School range of clothing gets launched in the supermarkets at the end of July, it does always seem a bit ridiculous.
I mean, surely people’s children grow over the summer break anyway? All that sunshine – it’s bound to do wonders for their height!
However, when there’s a definite chill in the end after sundown, it can only mean one thing. Term is back on, the brand new uniform is being worn (even by the teachers) and normal service is resumed.
This summer I’ve been a musician, a youth worker, a stay at home Dad and a tourist.
However, with just eight days left until the return to school for thousands of children across the UK, I’ve been required to don the latest of my vocational hats.
An interior designer!
I know that half the people seeing the title of this post will hate any positive reference towards the discipline of mathematics.
A childhood spent hating the many hours wasted in stuffy Maths classrooms trying to get your head round pointless equations and formulas will certainly see to that. Believe me, two of my housemates at university were Maths students and I’m pretty sure they would have agreed with a rather negative response towards Maths!
As for the other half, (and this may well be where my former housemates are now situated!) they’ll be firmly in agreement about the beauty in the logic of Maths. As a subject, it has so much depth and colour to it that it many ways it is as mesmerising as a glorious sunset.
Allow me to explain.
A few weeks ago, my wife picked up Sophie from nursery only to discover three defined teeth marks in her forehead and just above her eyebrow.
It was horrible. And we had no warning about it.
If you saw Friday’s post about Sophie’s new movements, you’d be aware that our little girl is very much on the move – and fast!
So, it was vital we embarked on another very important rite of passage and visited a shoe shop with her for the first time!
It was very exciting!
A tricky situation has been recurring recently.
Sophie will head off to nursery equipped with everything she needs for the day. She’ll be looking swish, accessorised to the max and ready for chilling with her crew. So to speak.
But when I pick her up, amidst the carnage of all the children being collected, there’s often one thing that’s missing. And I don’t realise until I get home.
I’ve certainly learned more sympathy with those poor parents whose children lose jumpers/PE kits/trainers/pencil cases/their marbles (!) on a regular basis at the end of the school day!