Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Communication Strategy, Culture, Daddyhood, Family, Friendship, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, Otis
Dear Ring Doorbell marketing people …
If you want your product to have more emotion in your communication, stop talking about stopping thieves and start talking about how your product can capture spontaneous moments of family love and happiness.
This picture of me with my son is one of my all time favourites.
Caught by your product as we waited for his Mum to open the door.
Imagine the instagram account you could have of happiness, love and family …
A much nicer association than the fear-mongering you tend to peddle.
You’re welcome.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Daddyhood, Family, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents
As I wrote yesterday, this is a big week in our household as Otis starts school.
Proper school.
In fact, he starts it in a few hours time.
Yes, today!!!
And while this is going to be a journey that will be filled with excitement and drama … tears and cheers … [and that’s just how his Mum and Dad will be when we wave him off later today] I had a glimpse of what might be in store for him in a way that took my breath away.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about how Otis has graduated from preschool.
Well from that day, Otis had this photo taken.
I saw it for the first time recently and I don’t mind telling you it stopped me in my tracks.
Not just because he is in full graduation gear – something his old man didn’t come close to achieving – but because of how much I see traces of my mum and me when we were young.
I wish Mum could see it, she would be chuffed to bits.
Just like I am.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Confidence, Daddyhood, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents, Paul, School
It seems literally a few months ago, since I wrote this post announcing Otis had come into the World, but this week, my little man starts school.
I’m not talking kindergarten – that he did in China, America and London – I mean proper school.
Reading … Writing … Arithmetic …
A journey that, in many ways, shapes and defines the future he is going to have.
I can’t believe it …
How did that happen so fast?
I’ve written it before, but seeing your kid grow up is both a blessing and a curse.
It’s a curse because they’re moments in their development where you just want them to stay exactly as they are.
When they are totally reliant on your love.
When they start using sounds to express how they’re feeling.
When you see them experience proper food for the first time.
When they start crawling and edge their way towards you.
Those first few words.
The first conversation.
The first steps.
At every stage, you want that moment to last forever but let it go because as they enter a new phase, there are even more new wonderful things you encounter.
It’s a fast moving train you both want to stop and to keep going exactly as it is.
And this week, the train finds another gear as Otis enters formal education.
I’ve written a lot about my views on this and how I am vehemently opposed to private education.
I don’t believe it should be a profit centre.
I do believe governments should be funding it because ultimately, it’s the foundation for the countries strength and health.
And while I know the school Otis starts tomorrow won’t be the school he finishes in – as we have bought our family home in a totally different area – I do know we intend to let him finally have a place he can feel settled in … a place where he can truly belong … because his Mum and I would like nothing more than him to meet friends that will be there throughout his life.
Like his Dad had with Paul, who are the kids in the picture at the top of this post.
So all that leaves me to say is this …
Enjoy your new adventure Otis.
Your Mum and Dad are so proud for the little boy you are.
And so excited for who you will become.
Love you.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, China, Culture, England, Jill, My Fatherhood, Otis, Paul, Shelly
So it’s September.
SEPTEMBER.
What the hell …
That means, in a few days, it’s been a year since I moved back to England.
And in a month, a year since I joined R/GA.
A YEAR!
I have to be honest, I find it amazing how quick that time has passed.
New job.
New house.
New car.
New life.
It has been a lot and I am so happy and grateful for it.
It’s pretty obvious I didn’t really enjoy my time in LA.
I liked an incredible amount of people there and Manhattan Beach will – without doubt – be the most beautiful place I’ll ever live, but there was stuff there I found challenging, stuff that went against who I am. That said, I’m very glad I did it and incredibly grateful for the opportunity to have done it, but I must admit I’m a happier person now I’m out of it.
That said, England still doesn’t feel like ‘home’.
It feels familiar … it feels nice … but having lived in so many countries over so many years, home for me is ultimately where Jill, Otis and Rosie are as opposed to a particular place, city or country.
In fact, I would say if I was made to choose a place where I feel I most ‘belong’, I would say Shanghai, that’s how much I love and loved that place.
That said, I’m incredibly excited we have just bought our first proper family home and I love being so close to my best friend – and Otis’ odd parents – Paul and Shelly, so while the country is acting in ways that are downright madness, I can honestly say I am in a happier, healthier place than I was a year ago and for that, I am grateful to everyone and everything that got me here.
Happy Monday.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Birthday, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis
Happy birthday Dad.
Oh how I wish you were around …
You’d be 81.
EIGHTY ONE!
I’m not sure what is more amazing … that or the fact it means you’ve been gone 21 years.
We would have had such a lovely day.
Now we are in England, we would have come down for the weekend and spent a few days there – organizing stuff, from a cake to a present.
Oh the present would be hard.
I’d want to get you something you have always wanted but could never get, let alone justify.
In a perfect world it would be an old Rolls Royce … in yellow … with white wall wheels.
I can see you now driving to Asda in it, laughing at the beautiful ridiculousness of it all.
God I’d love to have got you that … though I imagine that attitude would change quite quickly once I see how much the bloody thing cost to keep on the road.
But I’d still try and do it for you.
What you and Mum sacrificed for me will never be forgotten … will never be taken for granted.
I would do anything to be able to sit with you and talk about the choices and decisions I’ve made.
To see the corners of your beautiful blue eyes turn up with happiness knowing I am now ‘back home’.
I would love to give you a huge, huge hug and a big kiss on the cheek as I say “Hello Dad” … even though I know you would brush me aside so you could say hello to Jill and then your wonderful grandson.
Oh I wish you could have met them, you’d have absolutely loved them.
I can hear you asking them cheeky questions – at my expense.
The mischievous grin.
The dimple.
The tongue curling up on your top teeth to signify you know you have been a rascal.
For Mum to walk in and give you that look of loving exasperation as she says, “Oh Roger”.
There is almost nothing I would love more than to be with you today, though I suppose while I am not able to be physically with you, I am emotionally which leaves me with this.
I love you Dad.
I miss you so much.
A few weeks ago we went to visit Silvana’s flat in Bayswater and I started crying IN THE STREET.
OK, so I hadn’t been there for around 28 years, so seeing a place that contains so many memories of us being together really knocked me for six.
But in a lovely way.
I could see where you used to park … I could see us running up the steps to press the buzzer to be let in. I even went up and touched the front door because I knew you and Mum had done that and weirdly, it made me feel close to you.
I wish you were on the other side of that door.
I wish you were still here.
Happy birthday my wonderful Dad. Give Mum a hug from me.