Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Comment, Culture, Daddyhood, Emotion, England, Family, Fatherhood, Goodbye England, Home, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Parents, Paul, Shelly
So today is the 1st Feb.
That means today is the first day of our final month living in England.
Or at least living in England for a period of time.
We will be back for a whole host of reasons, we just don’t know when.
And while I’ll be writing another long, drawn out post listing all the things I’ll miss and all the things I’m grateful for … the reality is there’s a chance COVID will fuck our plans and instead of boarding a plane to New Zealand on the 3rd March, we’ll be in our beautiful home, trying to work out how to get our furniture off a boat and our cat out of quarantine.
It’s a strange feeling to think you have a time limit on what you have come to consider ‘home’.
A mixture of fear and excitement.
Of course we have done it a ton of times – and we’re really thrilled to be off on another adventure – but there’s a bunch of things that have got their teeth into us.
Being near Paul and Shelly after 25 years is a huge one.
Our beautiful new home with our beautiful garden is another.
Not to mention the wonderful new friends we’ve made in the time we’ve been back.
But as I say to many people who ask me about moving overseas, while it is easy to focus on the things you’ll miss, you need to focus on the things you’ll gain.
And we can’t wait for that.
The things we know, the things we hope for and the things that will just crash into our life.
I owe so much of my life to having lived around the World and I’m very excited to discover what new chapters this adventure will write.
So as this is a month where a lot will be going on, this blog will end on Friday till we are either in NZ or being told we have to wait longer to get into NZ.
Though whatever is the outcome, while not hearing my rubbish on here for a few weeks sounds like a delight, let me remind you – when I’m in quarantine in NZ with literally nothing to do, there’s a good chance I may be writing 100 blog posts a day.
So be careful what you wish for.
Filed under: Childhood, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
My dearest Otis.
I loved you before I even met you.
I love you more than you will ever comprehend.
And while you can get a teensy-bit exasperated with me, when I tell you that every single day, the fact remains I will continue to tell you. Every single day.
I can't help it.
I couldn't stop even if I tried.
But I don't want to try, I love every single thing about you.
Your kindness. Your cheekiness. Your ideas. Your laughter. Your mischief. Your curiosity. Your heart. Your emotions. Your love.
It’s breath taking for me to see and I am so proud of the boy you are and the boy you will be.
Actually it’s more than that.
I’m proud I’m your dad, full-stop.
So to my wonderful boy, happy 6th birthday.
I know it is a strange one this year with all that has happened in the past months, but I want you to know that spending so much time with you has been one of the greatest experiences in my whole life.
Keep being exactly as you are.
To your Mum and me, you are perfect.
Love you,
Rx
Filed under: Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Fatherhood, Jill, London, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Paul, Rosie, Shelly
I love the photo above.
We took it while we were still living in London.
I love it because it’s like a perfect encapsulation of Otis.
Bursting with energy.
Throwing himself into things.
Absolutely loving the element of mischief.
When we were expecting him, a friend of mine sent me a plaque that said …
Boys: Noise with dirt on them.
Well, it’s pretty true. At least in Otis’ case.
And I love that.
I love seeing his curiosity coming more to the fold.
Not just in terms of everyday exploring and discovering … but pushing boundaries.
Seeing what happens.
Hearing the questions he has after he’d done something new.
Good or bad … or just confused when something didn’t turn out as he imagined.
These last couple of year have really seen this side of him ramp-up.
Maybe it’s because previously, he was using his curiosity to help him adapt to his new surroundings … but not any more.
Now there is a confidence in exploring.
A genuine interest in understanding more.
And while he is very clear on what he does and doesn’t like, one thing he adores is the getting messy in the quest of discovery.
Moving to the country has been a revelation for him.
Oh he loved the city – like his dad – but there are things here he can do he never had before.
From exploring the garden with his Mum to playing with an entire school because there’s only 30 people in the whole place.
Then coming in to tell us what he’s learnt and what he’d like to learn.
From food to history to video games to the joy of being able to run outside till it hurts.
It’s an infectious thing to witness.
It’s an even better thing to talk about, cuddled up on the sofa.
Keep pushing those barriers Otis.
Everything you want to know, learn and become is on the other side of it.
Love you.
Filed under: America, China, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, LaLaLand, London, Love, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
In many ways, this was a big year for Otis.
While he had moved from Shanghai to Los Angeles, he was so young that he probably didn’t take it all in.
But by the time we left Los Angeles for London, he had made some deep connections.
His friend Jack.
His love Elodie.
His school mates and adventurous life in the sun.
And yet he took it all in his stride.
Sad to say goodbye, but happy to explore somewhere new, boosted by the fact he would get to see his ‘Oddparents’ – Paul and Shelly – a lot more often.
And within days, he was a Londoner.
Sure he had a strange American accent.
Sure he kept talk about dollars rather than pounds.
But for all the upheaval he was going through, he embraced it all.
New home.
New school.
New friends.
New way of living.
It was here he started to identify what he loved.
We wanted him to experience a range of things so he could discover what he liked.
And while he liked being a ‘ninja’, he didn’t want to do martial arts.
And while he enjoyed watching football with his dad, he didn’t like organised sport.
Instead he loved acting.
LOVED IT.
Watching him practice his lines was a bloody delight … the focus, the commitment.
And while he would get a bit shy at the point of performance, you could see how much his whole being lit up when he was doing it.
I have no idea if he will continue to love acting or performance.
Right now, he’s into video games in a big way.
But whatever path he chooses in the future … as much as I don’t want him to have a life of struggle, the thing I want most for him is fulfilment.
Not comfort.
Not content.
But fulfilment … as my parents always drilled into me.
To be honest, I didn’t really understood the difference between fulfilment and contentment till I was in my 30’s. But now I realise it has a totally different imputes when you go from the ‘receiver’ of that intent to the ‘giver’.
I hope I can help Otis understand it.
But more than that, I hope I can witness Otis embracing it.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Corona Virus, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, London, Love, Otis
I found this photo recently.
It’s a few years old, when we lived in London … but there’s something about it that just warms my heart.
Not just because it features my son – though that helps – but because it in a period of pandemic chaos, it shows how love can make everything OK.
Covid had just taken hold.
We were all confined to home.
No one was offering any clarity.
People were dying at unprecedented numbers.
And Otis desperately needed his hair washing.
However …
… he was also playing a video game he absolutely didn’t want to stop playing so – because his world had been turned completely upside down – his wonderful, kind, considerate Mum found a way for him to keep playing while she could do some hair washing.
Obviously it is an utterly ridiculous way to do things, but it’s my ridiculous.
A moment of twisted normality at a time where nothing felt normal whatsoever.
And while I appreciate this is an utterly indulgent photograph, I love the way he seems oblivious to his surroundings. His little legs stretched out to the tip of his toes. And a kitchen that has been rapidly turned into a school, a playroom and a hairdressers all at the same time.
While we were painfully aware of the privileged position we were in – from having an income to having a teeny garden to escape in – the fear of COVID was starting to take a hold which is why, as I look at that photo today, I realise how much my ridiculously beautifully family let me feel we were strong together at a point where everything was feeling like it was falling apart.