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Showing posts from June, 2011

Scaredy Cat

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The path of fatherhood has been many things, mainly a journey of discovery through various stages of development, enlightening moments, humorous moments, frustrating moments and in the case of posterity, intriguing moments. It has been interesting recording at what exact point in our lifetimes  we first learn to speak, to walk, to grow a first tooth and roll over onto our stomachs, all key moments that we sit and discuss with friends around a cup of coffee and air of admiration, but at what point in time do we start to learn the darker traits that make us human, feelings of hatred, hopelessness and fear? Last night, I sat with Oliver, our nightly story time routine. It’s his choice, his bedtime is 7.30, he can stay up until 7.45 without a story, or on the dot with a book. He chose to have a story. I’ve done this so many times, the same stories, the Gruffallo, the Stick Man, the Gruffallo’s child and A Very Lonely Night. So I suggested a ‘big boy’s’ story, one of the Roald Dahl book

The Bicycle Man

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Enrolling on a Creative writing course has been a rich and rewarding experience. It is all very well being able to write a blog from week to week and have your parents tell you that they enjoyed reading it, but having complete strangers sit and listen appreciably of your made-up mini tales of fiction is a completely different feeling. Confidence is a great thing and I guess that's what I have been looking for. But it can also be very dangerous. With the little confidence boost that I've recently acquired I've taken on the challenge of writing something a little more substantial. I'm not going to come out and say "I am writing a book" as that isn't quite what it is. I was out on a family day out at Riverside Country Park a few months ago and after we had made our way out to the evocatively names "Horrid Hill", we came across an old man, sitting on a bench, watching the world go by. Next to him was a bicycle, parked carefully just in front of

Nesting

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Last night just as Stephanie and I were starting to fall asleep, she nudged me to say that the baby had woken up,“How do you know?” I asked. She then began to tell me about the strange feelings and sensations that she was currently experiencing in the darkness of our bedroom. These internal nudges and movements, constant reminders of the miracle growing inside, the beginning of the maternal bond between mother and child. You can see that Stephanie is pregnant at the moment, in fact, it surprised me just how much when she informed me last week that we’d reached the half way stage! Whilst she is having that physical bond with her child, I won’t be able to feel any movement for a few more weeks, until the bump has filled out and physically witness the baby starting to kick. I am however, not entirely useless at this stage. For the past few weeks we have been getting some of the house in order, particularly the nursery where the baby will sleep when he or she is a little older. Wh

The Appeal

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Last week we received notice that our appeal for an infant school place had been unsuccessful. Whilst this might sound like particularly bad news, it isn’t really, although the results of which will have a lasting effect upon our day-to-day lives. At the beginning of the year we had to fill out an online form listing the three schools we would like Oliver to attend in preference. We chose Riverview as our first choice and Shears Green second. To make sure that we got either first or second place we put Cobham down in third knowing that this was highly impractical and almost unlikely to be chosen. Academically, Riverview and Shears Green are equally as good as each other, so we are very lucky that it could have fallen either way, but what made the application process more interesting is that as a child, I went to school at Shears Green, whilst Stephanie went to Riverview, so it was in a way, a little race to see whose footsteps Oliver would follow in. But for practical purposes