Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Birthday, Dad, Daddyhood, Happiness, Innocence, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, Otis
Today my wonderful little boy, Otis, turns 4.
Four. How is that possible?
It literally seems yesterday I donned a mask of the Queen [her Royal highness, not Freddie and the boys] and asked the doctor who delivered him, to photograph us.
Sadly that is not a joke and here is the proof …
And yet, despite that inauspicious start to life, he has approached all that has come his way with a wonderful sense of energy, optimism, happiness and curiosity … from seeing his Dad fall apart when his besotted grandmother died when he was just 3 months old to moving to 3 radically different countries in his first 3 years of life.
I love him in ways I can’t describe.
I often find myself flicking through thousands of photos of him while I’m sat on the tube.
Watching him literally grow in-front of my eyes … and I don’t mind admitting there have been occasions where I’ve had tears in my eyes.
Not out of sadness, but just out of how much I love his face.
No wonder no one wants to sit next to me.
He has been one of the greatest things in my life from the moment he was born.
While Jill was pregnant I was focused on trying to plan for the unknown …
How much would it cost?
How would it affect our life?
How will we cope with all he will need?
And then the moment he was officially out in the World, none of that mattered …
It was all about him. And us. And how our lives had suddenly become immeasurably richer and more loving.
I’m embarrassed to admit how naive I was as to how good being a father would be.
I always liked the idea of being a Dad, but never really understood the impact it would have on me. I assumed the relationship would be built more around ‘responsibility’ … and while there is a big part of that, it’s way, way more two-way than I assumed.
I learn from Otis.
I experience life with Otis.
I re-evaluate what is important because of Otis.
He is literally the best part of me.
Of course a big part of that is because his wonderful Mum has had an extraordinary influence on how he is turning out … but he is still the best part of me.
I wish my parents could have met him. I know for a fact they would adore him.
Not just because he’d be their first grandchild, but because of how he is approaching life …
Curious. Happy. Cheeky. Compassionate. Eager to learn, play, experiment and laugh.
I love him with all I’ve got.
Every single part of me absolutely adores him in ways I can’t properly describe.
When he climbs into our bed and pushes his way into the middle of us at some ungodly hour of the night, I often turn around, see his beautiful face resting peacefully and feel the happiest I have ever felt.
Family.
My family.
All together … including the cat.
I know this won’t last forever … there will be a day when he doesn’t climb between us, and while I will finally get a good nights sleep, I have to admit I’ll miss it.
These are very special times, but I know I’ll only truly appreciate just how special when they’re not happening anymore.
Because the irony of being a parent is your job is to help them live without you.
Where they don’t rely on you.
Where they develop their own interests and social circle.
Where you become the person they visit occasionally rather than see every single day.
Where their relationship with you fades in importance as they create their own families and life.
That’s part of the twisted wonderfulness of being a parent and one I don’t mind admitting that I’m dreading and excited to see.
But even when that happens, I know that whenever I see him or hear from him or even think of him, it will mess with the beat of my heart, because he is – and always will be – everything to me.
So to my dearest Otis … happy birthday.
You bring so much joy to me and your Mum.
You’re perfect to us.
Never forget that.
Love you.
Rx
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Agency Culture, America, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Daddyhood, Din Tai Fung, Friendship, Happiness, Home, Jill, London, My Fatherhood, Otis, Paul, Queen, R/GA, Relationships, Shelly
So here we are, the last month of 2018, and what a year it has been for me.
Started out in the sunny life that is Los Angeles and end it in the rainy life that is London.
From Deutsch to R/GA.
From Audi’s to the Tube.
From LA Din Tai Fung to the new London Din Tai Fung.
[Let’s be honest, I’d never of come if they weren’t here]
But I’m happy – very happy.
Sure, there’s a bunch of things I miss, but apart from the fact many of them will remain in my life for ever, the rest I can look back on as experiences I am fortunate to have had so I’m grateful I got to have them rather than sad I’ve lost them.
I know, who am I?
But all that is for a an even more boring post sometime in the next few weeks, so I’ll end this far-too-positive post with one of my new favorite songs, ‘Love Can Only Heal’, by Altered Bridge and the Slash band, Myles Kennedy.
I know you will think it’s bollocks – but apart from the fact that means you’re all a bunch of musical heathens who can’t appreciate the brilliance of a melancholy melody that’s orchestrated with a slowly building pulse of drama – you’re forgetting the alternative would be suggesting you listen to Queen.
Suddenly not so bad it is?
And it gets better … because for reasons that make no sense whatsoever, I’m going to be on my way to the US again by the time you read this. Which means you’re free from my blog rubbish till Thursday and given the following week is the final week of blog posts from me for 2018, you are exactly 7 posts away from ending the year on a positive.
If that doesn’t make you enjoy today, then nothing will.
Happy Monday.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Childhood, Comment, Family, Fatherhood, Happiness, Innocence, Jill, London, My Fatherhood, Otis
So we swapped living next to the beach in LA to living next to a park in London … and because of that, we spend a huge amount of our time there … hanging out while he goes off to explore.
Watching him is awesome.
The way he throws his entire energy and enthusiasm into everything.
From the swings and slides to the way he interacts with the other kids … bonding over nothing but the fact they’re around the same age and want to play.
Recently I caught him at the top of the slide with a couple of kids he had just met.
They weren’t talking.
They were just staring.
At a leaf …
Sure it didn’t last a long time, but for a moment, that single leaf held the attention and wonder of 3 kids …studying its shape, it’s colour and guessing which tree it had fallen from.
No electronics.
No lights.
No sounds.
Just nature showing she still has it … exemplified by Otis looking at it like I look at gadgets.
Long may that continue.
Thank you park.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Creativity, Culture, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Goodbye America, Happiness, Home, Imagination, Innocence, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
Yes I know today is the day where all the ghosts and ghouls are supposed to come out and play, but I thought I’d inject a bit of love and positivity into the World.
I know … who the hell am I?
Unsurprisingly, this new side of me is connected to my past life in LA.
While we are absolutely loving being in England and London, there are things about LA we miss.
One of them is Otis’ amazing preschool.
As I have written before, it’s an amazing, creative, inclusive place of learning and we were so happy he was there.
But leaving was always going to be hard – especially given we were leaving the country – so we asked the school if we could buy a piece of furniture for them on behalf of Otis.
Not just because it’s a school where the lessons are conducted outdoors but because we wanted Otis to know that while he was in America for a short time, his presence mattered to the community and the community mattered to Otis.
I’m so grateful they said yes which is why, while we’re thousands of miles away in the cold of England, there is a bench in sunny Manhattan Beach that allows Otis to always be in a place he loved while also letting his friends – and future students – always enjoy being in the environment they find themselves in.
The point of this post also relates to the people I’ve been lucky enough to call colleagues around the World, but that’s a post for another day [and does not relate to leaving stickers and badges around the place] so with that, I just want to say a huge thank you to Manhattan Beach Nursery School, the kids and parents who go there and LA as a whole.
Take that Halloween.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Daddyhood, Jill, My Fatherhood, Otis
I’ve written a lot about how amazing I am finding fatherhood.
It is beyond my expectations in every sense of the word.
Of course, a big part of that is my son is a wonderful, kind, considerate and caring little boy.
But there’s something more … and that’s witnessing his development at every stage.
As much as I want him to stay my little boy forever, each stage of his growth reveals new and wonderful traits … which helps me deal with the fact he is growing up way too fast.
One of the big changes is his vocabulary.
I remember how much I loved it when he could only use sounds to communicate.
It was so pure and innocent and yet he could convey so much of his feelings through those little sounds.
Then came the words.
At first they were a hybrid of mumble and language … but over time, he could say Dada and Mama and it melted our hearts.
But now, his language is developing at a rapid rate and while so much of what he says is his brain connecting what he communicate with the context he [so far] understands, it leads to expressions of such beauty – and sadness – that you are left breathless for hearing it.
Don’t believe me?
Look at this SMS I got from Jill a while back …
Sure, when he say’s, “the drips of my sadness” he is being literal with what they are, in the context of the words he knows … but my god, the emotions those words ignite is incredible.
Maybe we are educating the emotional expression out of children like Sir Ken Robinson said we are doing with creativity.
Either way, I love that kid more and more.