Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Brand, Business, Culture, Daddyhood, England, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Parents
I know it’s ridiculous to feel sad about a store closing … especially a store I hardly ever went in and when I did, it was obviously catered for women rather than men, but the news Mothercare has closed has made me sad.
I don’t know how many times I entered that store.
I definitely remember walking in the one in Victoria Centre, Nottingham, with my Mum when I was a very small kid … but I probably never entered another store until 40 odd years later when I was going to be a dad.
Ironically that was in Nottingham as well, even though we were living in Shanghai at the time.
But there’s a significant reason why this store means so much to me, because that’s where I found out I was going to be having a baby boy.
We were in the UK on holiday and my kind, wonderful wife wanted my Mum to feel part of the journey. Her idea to do that was to have a scan that would tell us the sex of the baby and have the doctor write it down, put it in an envelope and let my Mum tell us over a nice lunch.
That morning, before the scan, we were having breakfast and trying to come up with names. We were finding it much, much harder than we had anticipated and were pretty happy that if it was a girl, she was going to be named Eden, Edi for short.
Excited, we went off to a non-descript industrial park where Mothercare was. Inside the store was another company that could scan pregnant women and tell them the babies gender.
It was there my Mum saw her grandson for the first time. She was transfixed by what she saw on the screen. Not just because of who it was but because she had never seen a scan like that in her life. When she had me, it was all “find out when they come out” but here she was, sitting in a room with her son and daughter in law, watching her grandchild move around while still inside their Mum’s tum.
It was an incredibly moving moment for all of us and I will always love my wife for having that idea and always treasure that day.
And it’s for this reason I’m sorry to see Mothercare go.
I know there are a ton of reasons for its failure – but it’s also where I got to share a moment with my Mum that I’d never had before and will never have again. A moment that, were she alive, she would remember as clear as day.
A pivotal moment.
A moment where she got to witness the evolving of her family in front of her eyes.
A moment where the legacy of her and dad would forever continue.
But for me it’s something even more than all that. Because while we didn’t know it at the time, it was a moment where my Mum met Otis for the first time. The only time.
And for that, I’ll always be grateful to Mothercare and sad to see it go.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, America, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Australia, Authenticity, Cannes, Comment, Communication Strategy, Content, Creativity, Culture, Daddyhood, Embarrassing Moments, Equality, Fatherhood, Friendship, Goodbye America, Goodbye China, Holiday, Home, Innocence, Innovation, Insight, Jill, London, Loyalty, Management, Marketing, Martin Weigel, Metallica, My Fatherhood, Nottingham, Otis, Paul, Planners, Planning, Point Of View, R/GA, Relationships, Relevance, Resonance, WeigelCampbell, Wieden+Kennedy
So this is it, the last post of 2019.
Congratulations, you made it.
Yes, I know it’s early given there is still a couple of weeks to go in the year – including the inaugural R/GA London Planner Pie-Off – but despite what you may all think, I’ve had a big year and quite frankly, I need a rest from here as much as you do.
When I look at 2019, it’s been pretty good.
Of course there have been a few sad events – my dear Aunt Silvana dying and Justin’s wonderful wife, Ella – but overall, things have been positive.
Even the Beijing Hotel incident was amusing.
But most of all, the fact my family are good, healthy and happy makes it a good year, especially when you think of all the changes that have happened in our lives.
For Otis in particular, he has embraced all of it like a champion and watching him have his first day at ‘proper school’ made me feel incredibly emotional and very, very proud.
Quite frankly, the fact we have managed to stay in the same country for over 12 months is something we feel like celebrating – but not as much as my bank managers is doing – and we’re super excited that we have bought our first family home, even if we’ve not yet moved into it and it meant saying goodbye to the home I spent the first 25 years of my life in.
In fact ‘settling in’ has been a great plus of 2019.
We have a house, cars, some friends and finally feel part of a community … I’ve got to be honest, it’s a lovely feeling … and while I know there will be other changes in our life at some point in the future, this is a time I’m eternally grateful for.
There’s other stuff I’m grateful for too …
Without doubt, doing the Warc talk at Cannes with Martin was a wonderful highlight.
We were quite nervous about it but it seemed to have gone down well and I will always remember it and for that, we owe a debt to the wonderful Mercedes – Martin’s fiancé – who told us to get on with doing our school because she was sick to death of hearing us talk about doing more things together.
Love you Mercedes! And Martin. But more Mercedes.
Another thing – which is a bit weird, but seems to have helped some people – is when I wrote my post about being bullied at work. The response was phenomenal which led to Corporate Gaslighting. And while the amount of stories people are sending in – or agreeing to have published – on there has reduced, I know it has helped some people and I am happy I did it and will continue to do it.
Then there’s the fact I’ve been able to spend a bunch of time visiting China.
I love that place. In fact I would regard it as my ‘home’, despite having left there over 2 years ago.
To be able to spend so much time there and be energized by the city while connecting to new – and old – clients, has been magnificent.
Talking of returning to old things, having Otis’ beloved Elodie visit from LA was awesome.
Seeing them fall into their old, caring friendship was wonderful.
As I have said previously, taking him away from her was one of the hardest things about leaving LA – and while I know distance makes things harder, technology has obviously allowed their friendship to continue, which is the best ad for tech I can think of.
While I understand being emotional about Otis and Elodie being back together, I was surprised how emotional I felt when I went back to LA – especially when I visited Otis’ old kindergarten – but I suppose even the shortest time living in a place, leaves its mark on you.
There’s a bunch of other stuff I’m grateful for this year …
Nottingham Forest … for actually making me start to believe again.
I know it will end in tears, but it’s a nice feeling all the same.
There there’s the Brian May Guitar I bought after only 35 years of waiting.
Seeing Rod Stewart and Concorde were nice, as was getting a comment from Queen producer, Mack, and his son on the post I wrote about Freddie Mercury going to a birthday party dressed in the outfit he wore for the ‘It’s A Hard Life’ video.
That the gods of metal, Metallica, decided to extend the project that I’m doing for them for another THREE YEARS was a major plus. To be honest, I’m still not sure what I’m doing for them or if they like what I’m doing for them, but it keeps Otis in free Metallica t-shirts, so it’s worth doing.
I also got a bunch of new people in my life that I did not know previously.
From the brilliant students at the Brixton Finishing School, to the talented – but totally bonkers – creatives of Dayoung, Mike and Sam and not forgetting the wonderful Joel, Erika, Amar, Megan, Ed and Hannah who all stupidly decided to become members of the delightfully talented gang of planners at R/GA.
Before I end this utterly boring – but important [for me] post, I just want to say thank you to 3 more people.
First is the wonderful Paula Bloodworth not only got engaged – to a man from Nottingham no less [hahahaha] but she got asked to move to Portland to run strategy for NIKE globally at Wieden.
She will be brilliant.
More than people know – and they already know she will be brilliant.
I have had – and have – the great privilege of being able to call Paula a friend. I’ve worked with her, argued with her, laughed with her and caused havoc with her and through it all, her talent and humanity has shone through.
Wieden are very lucky to have her. Nike are very lucky to have her. I am very lucky to be able to call her a friend.
Second is the brilliant Severine Bavon.
Sev has been a part of my team from the beginning and this month she leaves us to strike out on her own.
Not as a freelancer … but to start a company that offers a new model for creativity and strategy for agencies and clients.
I’ve said many times that everyone should start their own company at some point and I am incredibly thrilled and proud that she is going to do just that.
Of course I’m going to miss her.
She’s brilliant, tenacious, smart and a million things I am not.
But I believe a bosses job is to help their people go on to bigger and better things. Bigger and better things they may never have imagined. Bigger and better things where they are chosen for who they are not just what they do.
And while I don’t think I did anything specific to help Sev make this decision, I have a vested interest in watching her do her thing and cheering her as she does it.
Which she will.
Sev, thank you for everything … believe in your talent, follow your gut, burn everything down that stands in your way.
So that leaves the final person … and as usual, it’s anyone and everyone who has written or visited this blog.
Ranting. Arguing. Swearing. Complaining. Caring. Debating.
It’s all meant a lot to me and after this length of time of writing basically the same 5 posts over and over again, I don’t take it for granted that you pop by and pass on your wisdom/insults.
I hope you all have a great festive season and may 2020 be epic.
Hopefully not as epic as I hope mine will be, but epic all the same.
I’m off to Australia for some sun and warmth and I’ll see you on Jan 6th cold, miserable and wondering how the holiday season passed by so fast.
Ta-ra.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Attitude & Aptitude, Birthday, Childhood, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Otis, Parents
Yesterday would have been my Mum’s birthday.
My Mum’s 87th birthday.
That means she has been gone 4 years and frankly, that seems incredible.
So much has happened in that time …
From moving countries twice.
To changing jobs twice.
To selling our family home to buy a new one.
And while I am in a much better place than I was after the tragic days that she died, I still am prone to being hit by moments where her loss is almost overwhelming for me.
I wish she could have met Otis for real.
I still remember her words when I called her minutes after he was born.
I was incredibly emotional and she was so tender towards me.
Making sure I was OK, Jill was OK and Otis.
Asking if the baby crying in the background was her grandson.
Telling me how happy she was and how happy she was for us.
How she loved the name Otis.
And while she was alone in her home in Nottingham – wishing madly that she was with us – she still told me to go and be with Jill and my son because she was the most compassionate, thoughtful person I have ever known.
While Mum saw Otis on video chat, sent me countless emails/SMS’s about him and – for a brief while – was in the same room together [though sadly it was after she had passed away] … the fact is they never were together in the flesh and I would have loved to have seen that happen.
To see her face as he called her Nona.
To watch her smile he wrapped his arms around you and gave her a big hug and kiss.
To look at my Mum reading her first grandchild a story or walking him through the gardens and explaining the flowers or just watching him run around like a tsunami and then look at me with that look in her eye that tells me everything.
How he’s perfect.
How she loves him so much.
How she is so proud of me and Jill.
How happy she is right at that very moment.
That would be the best present for her – not to mention for me – and while none of those things will be able to happen for real, I will think about them tonight when I’m home and giving Otis a big hug and kiss, because while there are many things I can do a whole lot better at, my Mum [and Dad] taught me one thing I am very good at.
How to love.
Happy birthday Mum, I miss you so much.
Hope you and Dad are laughing and holding hands.
Rx
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Comment, Culture, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, Family, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Nottingham, Otis, Paul, Resonance
So the time has come to close the door on the house I grew up in for one final time.
I’ve written the reasons for why this is happening in the past – as I have the reasons why the house was, and always will be, be so important to me – but it is the beginning of a new chapter for my family and my Mum and Dad would be so happy.
Anyway, we went to visit her one final time.
While the garden remained pretty much as my parents left it – thanks to us having a gardener visit every fortnight for the past 4 years [and we’ve taken a couple of things from there to plant in our new home so we will forever be connected] – going into the actual house was a very different feeling.
Part of it was because there was nothing in it.
No furniture.
No people.
No noise.
And so the overall effect was the house felt smaller … more fragile … and yet, as I walked through each room, there were so many emotions going through me.
As I watched my son run through the place holding his toys, I could see me – probably at his age – doing the same.
I saw where my Raleigh Grifter was waiting for me in 1989, on Christmas day.
I could see where my Dad – and then Mum – would sit in the lounge, on their rocking chair.
I could hear my Dad shouting ‘it’s ready’ from the kitchen our Saturday Beefburger was ready for scoffing down.
I could see my old clock radio when I was in the ‘small bedroom’ and my big stereo when I got ‘upgraded’ to the bigger room.
I could see the bed Mum and Dad slept in … where I would sit by them and chat throughout my time in the house.
Mum and Dad’s bedroom was especially poignant to me.
Regardless what happens in the future, it will always be ‘their room’ as they used for the entire time they were alive [and I was around].
Below is a photo of their empty bedroom that I took.
I’ve superimposed another photo of Otis that I took on the day after Mum died.
He’d just flown with his Mum overnight from Shanghai and he’s lying on the side Mum used to sleep on, looking at a painting of a mother and her child that hung above her bed.
He never got to meet her in person – he was supposed to a couple of weeks later when she recovered from her operation.
Alas it didn’t work out that way which is why this photo is so precious to me and why I feel, in a weird way, they did get to be together – hugging each other tight – if only for a second.
Another thing that got me, was when I went to the garage.
When we were having the house refurbished because we wanted to help a family live in a good area, we wrote a message on the wall about how much that house meant to us.
Well, when we checked at the weekend, we saw the tenants had left their own note and I have to say – it got to me because while my life is moving on, it was built in those 4 walls and I hope it does the same for anyone and everyone who lives there.
Thank you Mum.
Thank you Dad.
Thank you house … you will always be treasured.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Fatherhood, Jill, Love, Otis, Parents
OK, so now we have got over the fun and frolics of yesterdays April Fool post, I want to bring it back to something serious.
Recently we decided we would have a day where Otis could make all the decisions.
He immediately went for it big time by asking to go to a local builders cafe for breakfast, where he ordered chips, drank a Coke Zero and watched Paw Patrol on his iPad.
You can see him in the photo at the top of this post.
Living the dream.
Anyway, I mentioned this on Facebook when someone I’ve not met but vaguely know wrote:
“We practice ‘good choices’ day, you should try it”.
Now while I was sure it had come out more condescending than intended – this person does have form in being judgemental from their self-appointed pedestal – and Jill decided to inform him of this.
She replied:
“You don’t know me or my son.
Your comment comes across as judgmental and condescending and makes me uncomfortable because it implies my son was making ‘bad’ decisions.
Perhaps if you did know us you would understand our parenting style more and that we aim not to use words like ‘good’ or ‘bad’ because of their unfortunate side effect of creating shame.
Decisions are just decisions, and I believe that kids need space to make a whole variety… nobody makes ‘good’ decisions all the time and I want him to grow up knowing that that’s ok, normal and part of life.
Perhaps your comment really was just about sharing what you see as a fun idea, but your way of expressing it missed the mark…”
As I am sure you will all agree, that was a pretty awesome response.
But more importantly, it highlights how we are attempting to bring up Otis.
Coming back to England has been wonderful, but the one thing that has surprised us is the pretty draconian approach to instilling certain qualities into our kids.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it’s being done for good reason, but the overt shame/reward approach bothers us. A lot.
There are many reasons for it – and of course, each to their own – but this poster sums up the one we fear the most.
This situation applies to all.
Not just kids … but family members, friends and colleagues.
What’s worse is this tends to stick with people.
It is one of the elements that has driven so many of the Corporate Gaslighting stories.
I get situations can make us angry.
I get people can do stupid things.
But when your approach to correction is shame, you’re trying to improve the outcome of one thing through the destruction of another.
You might not mean it.
You might not want it.
But you are doing it.