Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, China, Corona Virus, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, England, Family, Hong Kong, Jill, LaLaLand, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Nottingham, Otis, Parents
The above photo was taken back in 2020.
We were living in Fulham.
Everyone was working from home.
And we suspected Otis may have had COVID.
As it turned out, he didn’t – thankfully.
But I love that photo.
The closeness.
The intimacy.
The caring Mum and the curious kid.
A shared moment ruined by me coming in and taking a pic – as usual, hahaha.
But who can blame me? Those two are everything to me.
And the older I get, the more I realise how much time I didn’t spend with them.
That realisation started with COVID.
While the pandemic was so devastating to so many – it was very good to me.
I got to be with my family for longer than I’d ever been in our time together.
Waking up together.
Breakfast, lunch and dinner together.
Putting Otis to bed and then going to bed with Jill at the same time.
EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
Now I know for so many that’s a regular thing but for me it wasn’t and the experience was wonderful and confronting.
Wonderful for how it made me feel. Confronting for how I had allowed that to happen.
Don’t get me wrong … I love work. Or should I say I love parts of work.
And as much as it may not be cool to say anymore, but I loved the travel.
Not being on a plane for the COVID years – bar, moving to NZ – felt like a genuine loss.
Not at first – initially it felt amazing, given how regularly I had been travelling – but after 2+ years, I was ready to hear those engines whir into life. Just not so regularly as I had before … because flying internationally at least once a week, every week for years was just plain idiotic.
And while I don’t want to let all of it go, I have been changing big parts of how I am choosing to live and it all came from something my Dad once said to me.
You see, my Dad had quite an eclectic early professional life.
Not just changing jobs, but whole industries.
I remember asking him why he had done it and he said this:
“I love you and your Mum. So if I’m going to be away from you both for most of the day, I better like what I’m doing because nothing would be so disrespectful as being away for something I hate”
Now I appreciate the privilege in that statement.
There are many who don’t have the opportunity to chase after things that interest them.
And for my Dad, that was enabled by the stability of my brilliant Mum – similar to what Jill has done for me in allowing me to uproot us every few years for an adventure in some other far distant part of the world.
But while I’ve generally enjoyed what I have done … as I get older, it’s becoming more and more apparent that I want to ensure my family is given even greater prioritisation in what I do. That doesn’t mean they weren’t before … but I realise they could have been prioritised a fuck load more.
In some ways, it’s a perfect time for this to happen.
I’m approaching a point in life where some decisions will have to be made regarding my future.
What do I want to do?
Who do I want to do it with – and for?
What do I want to explore, experience and achieve?
Where is the best place for us to be located?
What are the conditions we need to protect what we have?
For me, these are revelation questions.
Previously, I just went with whatever excited/scared me/us the most.
And while this doesn’t mean we’re now happy to settle – because let’s face it, I suck at it, thanks to my only-child inspired, competitive, curious and annoyingly ambitious energy – it does mean these questions ensure my/our decisions are focused on ensuring my family get the best of me, not just what is left of me because the one thing covid taught me is nothing is as important as being together.
It’s pathetic I needed a global pandemic to really drive that home.
But to paraphrase my dad, nothing would be as disrespectful to my family than ignoring what became one of the most precious times of my life with my family.
Thanks to Easter, I get to spend the next 4 days with them … hopefully eating chocolate.
So wherever you are and whoever you’re with, I hope you get to spend it with someone that matters.
Even if that’s just yourself.
Happy holiday … and I apologise for the indulgent, happy-clappy post of today.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
Having a kid is amazing.
I appreciate for some, the thought of that is unbelievable, but for me it’s true.
As I’ve written many times, watching Otis grow has been an incredible experience.
Amazed at his development. Terrified at its speed.
All the cliches of ‘how fast the time passes’ is true … in the blink of an eye, they go from gurgles to opinions.
While there’s a ton of examples I could talk about, getting his first ever text message literally stopped me in my tracks.
It was momentous when we had our first proper conversation … but when it happened via SMS, it was another thing altogether. Especially as Otis lives with dysgraphia, which makes things a bit more complicated for him.
But that’s also the brilliance of tech … because what could have genuinely limited his ability to express himself has been replaced by new ways to let his voice be heard and felt.
And sometimes, that voice can reveal exactly how you are seen in their eyes.
You see – as I wrote in Monday’s post – Otis returned from a trip to his grannies in Australia recently and he sent me this …
As lovely as it is that the moment he landed, he wanted to reach out to his Dad … I can’t help but feel my ONLY SON’s decision to remind me what his name was, meant he either thought he was away for far longer than the 8 days he was actually away or he thinks I’m so old, alzheimers has set in.
And my money is on the latter.
Savage.
And yet I love him with all I’ve got.
That’s the sort of power and control cult leaders wish they could muster.
Kids. Master manipulators in mini-size.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Australia, Brand, Jill, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents, Technology
A few weeks ago I went to pick up Jill and Otis from the airport.
They’d been in Australia to see ‘granny’ and had a lovely time.
Anyway, when I saw Otis, he immediately told me about an “amazing cool giant robot face” he’d seen in Sydney and showed me a photo he’d taken.
As soon as I saw it, I realised it was part of project I did with the founder of Gentle Monster.
Telling him this resulted in Good and Bad news.
Good: I’m now [Finally, if temporarily] cool.
Bad: He wants me to bring it home.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Jill, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
First of all, I know Otis is 8.
But he said this to me when he was still 7 so deal with it.
As I have written previously, Otis was diagnosed last year with dysgraphia.
Dysgraphia is a form of dyslexia – specially writing and some motor skills, like holding a pen.
It doesn’t limit the capacity for learning, but it does affect how you do it.
I also wrote how amazing his school has been in helping him deal with this … letting him use technology for written assignments [text to speech] while very gently helping him keep practicing writing with a pen.
The effect has been remarkable.
He is happier, more expressive and even cheekier than before.
It genuinely feels like he has been freed from a feeling of oppression. Of not being good enough. And now he recognises his ability and his possibility. It’s so, so beautiful and I can never thank his school and teachers enough.
Of course, this is something he’s going to have to live with for the rest of his life. But thanks to his school – and technology – he doesn’t have to fear dysgraphia, he just can get on with it.
And get on with it he is.
A few weeks before the end of the year, he proudly showed us some work he had written.
As in, written with a pen, not technology.
That he showed us was incredible – because previously he did all he could to hide his writing from us. Whether it was because he was ashamed by it or simply believed it couldn’t be good as his classmates as he wasn’t as quick as them is open to question, but it is not hard to imagine that may be the case.
But here he was, showing us what he’d done.
I said to him, how good it was to which he replied with an viewpoint that was not only incredibly mature … but is a valuable lesson for anyone and everyone facing challenges in their life.
He said:
“Just because you struggle with some things doesn’t mean you can’t improve”.
How incredible is that?
He was seven when he said it. SEVEN!
That’s better advice than anything you hear from professional life coaches.
So to my dearest Otis …
I’m so, so proud of you.
Your attitude towards life is wonderful and inspirational.
And of course, you’re right.
You can improve.
You can always get better.
It’s not about glory, it’s about improvement.
Thank you for reminding me that life isn’t all black and white.
That how we evolve and improve and engage and embrace life is all done in the grey.
You’re such a brilliant human and we’re so proud to be your Mum and Dad.