Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Creativity, Culture, Disney, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, My Fatherhood, Otis
Following on from yesterday’s post, I’ve taken today off so I can take Otis for his first visit to Disneyland.
I can tell you right now he is going to absolutely bloody love it … and I have to tell you I’m glad he will because it has cost the equivalent of the GDP of a medium sized European nation and I’d be devastated to have to sell a kidney for something he won’t enjoy.
As much as I can be rather skeptical about Disney, I have to say they know how to capture kids imagination.
I still remember taking Otis to a hospital in Shanghai and – as soon as he clapped eyes on the TV showing Frozen – his pain and tears disappeared to be replaced with a hypnotic state.
So that’s where I’ll be today and then I’ll spend the weekend trying to recover from it as well as hope my beloved Nottingham Forest end the season on a high, which – given the position they were in last season – already feels like they’re playing in football Disneyland.
Now I know finishing mid-table in the Championship may not seem the sort of thing anyone should celebrate, but when you’ve had the turmoil we’ve had over the last 20 years – and especially the last 5 – it’s feels really good to have a team that is occasionally in the news for the way they’re playing football rather the way the terrible ex-CEO was playing with the club and it’s finances.
So in a way to honor Nottingham Forest being slightly less shit than they were last year [when they were super shit] I hereby reproduce my ‘everything for a £1’ shop version of one of my favourite Nike/Wieden ads ever.
Horrific isn’t it?
Especially compared to the original.
Putting aside the fact I’m wearing something ‘Adidas’, it’s a bit like comparing a pair of Hi-Tec trainers to a pair of NIKE’s, but then that’s like comparing the current Forest side to the team that dominated Europe in the early 80’s.
Or – said another way – how it feels to be a Forest fan for the last couple of decades.
So now I’ve ruined your weekend, I’m off … see you Monday.
Filed under: Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis, Parents
Oh Mum.
How I miss you.
I am in a better place than I was this time last year, but you are always in my thoughts.
I continually tell Jill how much I would have loved you to meet Otis.
He’s such a lovely little boy.
Cheeky but oh-so-sweet.
He can throw a temper tantrum in 0.3 milliseconds, but will always say “thank you” [in a weird Americanesque accent] the moment you do anything for him … from giving him a drink to opening the front door.
I think about what you’d say if you saw him.
How you’d look.
And I know the pride and joy on your face would be both for how wonderful your grandson is and how well you think I – your son – am doing with him.
Of course we both would know so much of it is down to Jill, but if I’m doing anything right [and if you read tomorrow’s post, you’ll realise that is questionable] it is down to the love and support I felt from you and Dad throughout my childhood.
The love and support I still feel, despite you both being gone.
And that’s why I’m wishing you a happy birthday … not just because I love you and I miss you, but because your presence is still with me and always will be, which is probably the best testimony I can give to you as a person and as a parent.
I am honoured that I was able to call you my Mum.
You were an amazing lady and a fabulous Mum in every possible way … even if you never thought you were and would be telling me to stop with all the compliments.
So Happy birthday Mum, tell Dad to give you an extra kiss from me. Love you. Rx
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Experience, Family, Fatherhood, Holiday, Jill, Love, Otis
So by the time you read this post, I’ll be in Paris.
And yes, it’s for work.
It’s potentially the best work assignment of my life because not only do I have the pleasure of presenting to a bunch of global NIKE guys, I’m doing a presentation about Boatie McBoatface.
No really, I am.
Mind you, having written that down, I’m starting to realise the idea was better when it was in my head.
Oh well, too late now …
But if you think that’s showing off, wait till you hear this.
Tomorrow I fly home …
But it’s not to go back to work, oh no, it’s to pick up my wife and son and then get on another plane and spend a month on holiday.
I can’t wait … we will be catching up with old friends, seeing members of family and doing a bunch of new things in new places.
But most of all, we will be together … and while I’d love Rosie the cat to be with us, it will still be very special for me.
Being together is precious.
Of course that is to be expected, however when you have a young child, it takes on another dimension.
You don’t just do things together … you get to experience new things together.
Normally with a young child, life falls into 2 parts:
1. You bring them into your life. [Where they experience things you’ve done before]
2. You let them explore their life. [Where they experience things designed just for them]
But on a holiday – especially a holiday where you will be spending time in a place none of you have been before – you get to experience things for the first time together, literally share an experience where everyone is [kind-of] equal.
Now while I know it is exceedingly unlikely my 18 month old baby will ever remember anything from it, the fact is I will and I can tell you it will automatically be something important in my life and that makes me extra excited to be going away.
I’m back on the 17th July, so enjoy your holiday from me while I enjoy my holiday from you.
Filed under: Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Food, Jill, Otis, Parents
I’ve written previously about the privilege it is to see my son experience things for the very first time in his life.
His first word.
His first food.
His first crawl.
His first plane trip.
His first time in the sea.
I cannot put into words how magical and amazing it feels.
The only downside being it is a constant reminder he is growing up in the blink of an eye.
Before I was a Dad, I used to listen to parents say that about their children and think ..
“It takes 18 years for your kid to grow up. 18 years is a bloody long time. Get over it”
… but now I am a father, I totally get what they mean.
Every day something new happens.
A new word.
A new experience.
A new interaction.
And you both relish it and hate it because it means they’re growing up. Developing. Moving towards a time where they will no longer be reliant on you … a time where you will no longer be the most important people in their World.
The best thing about technology is I can capture these things in perfect clarity.
Not just so I can embarrass Otis when he’s older – though that is pretty good too – but so I can remember the feeling or love and wonder I have every time I am given the honour of witnessing my son grow up right in front of my eyes.
Which leads to the point of this post.
Recently we gave Otis his first taste of ice cream.
A product he could neither quite grasp in terms of taste or how to eat it.
But he liked it … or at least the concept of it.
I won’t say anymore – I’ll let you see it for yourself – though wouldn’t it be great if we were all this happy about such simple pleasures.
God, I love that kid so, so much.
Have a great weekend.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Culture, Daddyhood, Education, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Innocence, Insight, Jill, Otis, Parents
I cry.
I cry a lot.
I cry at films.
I cry at memories.
I cry at just how much I love Otis.
Now I appreciate that’s not the sort of thing you should admit, but that’s what I want to change.
I get why it happens.
From the moment we are kids, we are told not to cry.
To be fair, it’s less to do with any sense of parental embarrassment and more to do with parents hating seeing their precious child being upset, but in my opinion, it’s still wrong.
But it gets worse.
Especially for little boys.
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard a Dad tell their little man who has fallen over …
“Big boys don’t cry”.
I totally appreciate they’re not saying it to be mean, but I can’t help but worry for what we are teaching the men of tomorrow.
Especially in America.
I was lucky, I was brought up in a household that didn’t try to hide emotions.
I was taught it was healthy and was encouraged to express how I felt.
Now I know that was pretty rare, but fortunately for everyone else, there was the local pub.
The pub was more than a place for drinking, it was a place for men to express their feelings.
Sure, they did it through banter and jokes, but it was where you could reveal your feelings and fears to other men in an environment that was, ironically, none threatening and none judgemental.
I have no idea if that’s still the case but I know in America it’s not.
Here, you don’t go to a bar to talk, you go to a bar to sit with other men and watch sports.
There appears little outlet for men to express their feelings which means either the pressure of situations add up to unbelievable levels or the response to situations is disproportionate or overly aggressive and confrontational.
OK, so not everyone is like that, but until we teach our children – and especially our little boys – that crying is actually the act of someone strong rather than weak, then we are going to continue stopping people knowing how to navigate the challenges and frustrations that fill our lives. Or said another way, we’ll be stopping our kids from being able to be as good as they can be … which is a crime no parent wants to ever be accused of doing.
Which is another thing we could all learn from the values taught at Otis’ school.