All thats Holy..

I’m a Godfather! and I’m so very happy.

A dear friend and work colleague’s daughter, whom I’ve known since she was a baby, has asked me to be the Godfather of her first child, a beautiful daughter. I was both humbled and honoured by the request and accepted gladly.

They live near my old stomping ground, just over an hour’s drive away. The journey provides a good opportunity for a discussion with the cubs.

I explain the concept to them both. Youngest, unconcerned with my happiness is more concerned with the replica snake, which he has somehow managed to smuggle into the car. (He’s in smart clothes and has been patted down. My game is obviously off..)

Eldest, is listening intently and joining the dots.

‘But you already have me..’

She’s not replacing you.

‘Do you have to do anything, in general?’

It’s about spiritual guidance

‘Ghosts?’

No not ghosts. You go to a Church of England School. More the Holy Ghost.

‘So ghosts then?’

Ok Ghosts. It’s more about taking care of her spiritual upbringing, should anything happen to her parents.

She’s silent. That can only mean one thing; the processor is in full tilt.

She eventually looks at me.

‘So how many people have to die for me to get a sister?’

Well, if it’s down to me and your mum, every other person on the planet, I think but not say. I chuckle to myself anyway.

two people dressed as ghost
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We hit traffic; I’m worried about the snake charmer. He’s not long out of nappies and is still prone to the odd accident. He’s 4, so I don’t expect miracles. Journeys such as these are now bookended by toilet breaks.

He assures me that he’s ok.

In all honesty, the drive is taking twice as long as it should, and I could do with a …. break myself. The cubs are starting to unravel. Not prone to ‘are we there yet?’, they begin to ask.

SatNav is rarely my friend and it chooses today to renew our ill blood. Even with the contingency time I built-in, we may be late. I call my friend, who directs me to the Church, and into a parking space outside. Thankfully, I text them when I left home, so they got a sense of the traffic issues.

We all walk in.

Key players are in the front pews. It’s an intimate service; family and a few friends. The cubs are loving it. Eldest has been tasked with holding the Christening presents. Youngest, has energy to burn. He spots a play area off to the left. It’s immediately embargoed. My mistake..

Whilst the Vicar is delivering the sermon, I notice something unusual on her cassock. I can’t, quite, make it out. It looks brighter in one square patch. Within that square patch appears to be a shape. I look a bit harder. I think it’s a picture of some description.

What in the world…

It appears to be a T-Rex.

The Reverend catches me looking at her robes. I look up and catch her catching me. Without losing her stride, she looks across to my son, who is shining his prized, dinosaur slide show miniature torch directly onto her.

My pat-down game is way off. He’s allowed into the play area.


Post Service, we have a buffet at the local public house. The Jurassic incident went unnoticed by most and my blood pressure is almost back to normal.

Across a couple of tables I noticed the wife of a friend. I haven’t seen her in a while so we smile at each other. Even though it’s October, it’s unseasonably warm and she’s wearing a lovely, flowing maxi dress. As I’m smiling at her, I tilt my head in curiosity. I reinforce the tilt with a congruous gaze. I head over.

Ooh I say! Looks like you guys have some good news!

‘Eh?’ she replies, slightly confused.

I make some eye gestures at her bump.

‘Oh….. no. I’ve just had a few too many pizzas and pies over the summer….’

Oh boy.

What felt like a month later, but was actually a split second, youngest cub ran past, dropped some sweets and bent down to pick them up, exposing a poo stain that went up his back.

Thank you Jesus.

I scooped him up, made my excuses and left.

Best Christening I’ve ever attended.

black and white sport fight boxer
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BSD

I did this..

I’d heard about people doing this before and had cringed at the mere thought.

I saw it happen in a tv show; it was awful; truly, truly awful.

Now I’ve done it, I can confirm that the reality is just as bad.

Yesterday I was at a Christening of a long-time friend. His daughter has had her first child, and has asked me to be Godfather. I’m so pleased and honoured that I’m writing about it soon.

At the after celebration, it was a chance to catchup with friends I hadn’t seen in a while.

The wife of a guy I used to work with was standing to one side, wearing a gorgeous maxi dress and enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. I smiled at her, she smiled back. I then tilted me head, and adopted a curious look.

I made my way over, expression fixed.

Oooh I say, something I should know? I asked.. she looked puzzled.

Are congratulations in order? I asked.

‘Oh right!’ she said, catching on…

‘No; just too much pizza and pie over the summer’

Now I’m on Ebay looking for a time machine.

BSD

Farewell to innocence.

At 8 years old, my daughter has been called the n-word.

I received a phone call at work from the ex this week, she was in tears.

Our daughter was minding her own business playing in the playground when all of a sudden one of the boys she was playing with lashed out.

Her phone call was quickly followed up by a phone call from school; it was my daughter’s form teacher.

Her voice was trembly as she told me what happened. Most of the conversation was taken up by her assuring me of how seriously the school take such things and how they had dealt with this situation robustly.

I thanked her for the phone call and asked her to arrange meeting between both sets of parents. At this response, her voice trembled even more. She promises to call me back. She doesn’t.

I get up from my desk open the office door and go for a walk. I need to clear my head, calm down and think clearly.

From very early on I’ve tried to make my daughter self-aware. Where we live she, in fact we, are a visible minority. For this very reason I have spent years growing her self belief and the knowledge that she is worthy and can achieve anything

It appears to have worked. She reported the incident to the teachers before returning to what she was doing. The boy was removed from play, his parents were called and they removed him from school for the day.

We were eventually offered a meeting the next day with the parents and the headteacher. I declined stating that I need to put a couple of days between the incident to allow me to calm down and also do some damage control.

After school we sat her down for a talk. We asked her what happened and to explain in her words. She did and we listened.

She told us she didn’t really know what the word meant but she’d read it in a book and knew that it wasn’t very nice, and that’s why she told the teachers. I gave her the biggest hug that I could, told her she’d done the right thing and that I was proud of her.

She began to tell me that he’d only called her that name because he was angry. I stopped her. I explained that no one has the right to lash out and call anybody any names or inflict physical damage because they are angry. That is not a justification. People should learn to control themselves. He is young, he is learning, but the rules apply.

This is such an important lesson for children to learn. Words, actions, have consequences.

We received a contrite email from the boy’s mother. She was very apologetic, explained that he didn’t know what the word meant, they don’t use that kind of language at home, and that he picked it up on YouTube.

I couldn’t help but observe some parental choices. She’d read it in a book; he’d heard it on YouTube I’ll let you draw your own conclusions.

Big cub is fine. After we had the conversation, she spent more time telling me excitedly about the football match that she was playing in tomorrow. She was playing in midfield against some other schools. I assured her that I would be there to watch.

Her mum and I, will take a little longer to recover. For us this is the end of the age of innocence. We knew that they would come up against this kind of discrimination and hatred but we had no idea how soon it would happen. I, have been preparing her for a long time by positively reinforcing images of people and women that look like her, making sure that she knew the struggles they went through, what they enjoyed, and what they achieved despite this. I’m so glad I did.

BSD

You really are what you eat..

As you know, the cubs and I almost always have porridge for breakfast.

This day was a bit different. The wake up and shake up had taken too long and as such, we were slightly behind schedule.

Against my better judgement, I changed our breakfast menu. I do have alternatives to porridge; 2 packets of Rice Crispies (poor stock management) and a packet of Honey Hoops. They’ve been there a while, as I’ve said, we all prefer porridge.

Ok, confession time; my poor stock management included not shopping for more porridge in time, so I was left with a portion that wouldn’t satisfy anyone.

I duly dished up 3 bowls of honey hoops which we all hurriedly ate. Very sweet, was my only real thought.

Once finished, off we all went.

Youngest cub is now at big school so there’s only one drop to do. I go to work at hit my desk 15 mins later.

I catch up with my office chum, who’s been on holiday for a bit. She’s left a small, LCD projector on my desk as she couldn’t get it to work. She asks me to check it. I do; it works. I mock her mercilessly. I start to pack the projector away.

Inexplicably, I drop the projector under her desk. I pick it up; check it still works, then pack it away.

A little while later, she’s bringing me up to speed on office matters (I’d been away for 2 days) and I take the opportunity to clean my glasses.

Clumsily, I drop them on the floor. She stops mid sentence and asks if I’m ok..

I’m gonna grab a coffee; want one?

Finishing my coffee at my desk, I stare at my dual screens. I can’t concentrate. I take my glasses off and rub the bridge of my nose.

eye grab

She notices.

“You are not right; what gives?”

God alone knows but she’s right. I feel so out of kilter I can’t explain how I’m feeling. I do know however, that working is the last thing on my mind.

“Have you not had breakfast?” she asks.

It hits me.

I had a bowl of Honey Hoops…..

“What?? you my friend are having a sugar crash!”

Nail on the head. Eureka. Epiphany. That sugary, carb nonsense that I’d substituted my normal high fibre, high protein breakfast for had turned around and bitten me in less than 2 hours of eating it.

My mind immediately went to my cubs. If a bowl had that affect on my massive frame, what the hell would it do to their tiny bodies? The effect on my coordination and concentration was huge.

Nationally (globally?) there has been an unprecedented increase of behavioural disorders in young people and children.

Just how much of it is down to the modern diet?

There are now 3 packs of serial in my bin.

Mike on Cliff light sky

BSD

And I’ve won the week

Waking my son up this morning by waving his toy lightsaber (with sound effects) around, saying in a deep voice:

I AM DAD VADER; I AM YOUR FATHER!

whilst it made whooshing sounds.

Winning.

BSD

ps, he didn’t bat an eyelid.

pps, nor at the age of 4 did he have a clue what I was on about.

And, I’m stuck.

It’s been a busy year so far. I’ve taken a lot on and although it feels good, I’ve become stuck.

Two things have struck me recently;

Firstly, it’s nearly Christmas. I’ve got to prepare and this year has flown.

Secondly, in 15 years, I’ll be 60. This thought was bought on by a tweet about Angela Bassett (60) at an award ceremony.

That’s just the way my mind works.

The first 8 years of my eldest cub’s life have shot by which brings my mind to the passage of time, and how I could be wasting it.

Or at least not making ‘enough’ progress.

That voice is back.

‘Surely I should be there now, rather than where I actually am, here’

The internal coach. Eternal critic.

This time, I have an answer. Where I am now, is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

It’s easy to listen to this critic who will make you forget just how far you’ve come, both personally and professionally.

I’m learning two new skills. They’re big skills that can’t be rushed, but at the grand age of 45, I’m restless. Both skills have ground to a halt; one financially, one technically.

Again, the critic inside thinks I should be further forward.

That is, until I look back 12 months and see that then me, and now me, are strangers. If now me had told then me where I’d be now, it would appear a tale of pure fallacy.

So I take a breath and a break, and relax.

I’m writing this on a windy hilltop, enjoying the sunset. And smiling.

Push

Angela Bassett looked amazing, by the way.

BSD

Tough love?

I taught my boy a tough lesson today and it almost broke me.

Youngest cub has now joined his sister at big school. The change in educational level has done wonders for him. His language has come along in leaps and bounds and so has his interpersonal behaviour.

He’s not the finished article yet and at 4, neither should he be.

We do have some challenges. He gets frustrated easily and when he does, he can lose it quite badly. Foot stamping, screaming and saying no to everything.

On Saturday, I had said that we’d finish the day with a trip to the park but this had to follow him cleaning up his room. His sister will maintain her’s on a regular basis, but he plain and flatly refuses, or states that he can’t do it without help.

person wearing pair of yellow rubber gloves
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Again, given his age I don’t expect much, just a token effort.

At times I help him, at other times I get on with other aspects of housework to show them what is required to maintain a home.

As he’s grown, we quickly (and sadly) moved from the response to the tidy your room request of ‘No thank you!’ to plain and flat ‘no’.

We never made the park.

As I had no wish to punish his sister, I told them both that we’d go after breakfast the next day.

Next morning, after a hefty porridging, they headed for the bathroom. A quick wash and then out, was the plan.

All went south after hair washing. Water in his eyes was too much to bear and foot stamping began. Followed by screaming, and then kicking his sister.

At 4 years old, he seems to be experiencing the terrible 2’s.

I won’t stand for kicking so tell him he’ll lose a star. ‘I DON’T CARE!!!’ he screams, and kicks out again.

I pick him out of the bath. He screams and stamps. I ask him to apologise to his sister. He’s in full flap and now cyclically repeats that he’s not listening to me and he never will.

Admittedly, I can feel my blood pressure rising, so I decide to remove myself from the situation. I leave him dry, but naked.

goats-competition-dispute.jpg

Eldest cub gets ready and I shave and brush my teeth. She does her hair, which takes a while. He eventually stops screaming and comes in to my room. I’m now reading and pay him no attention.

He climbs on the bed next to me and slowly attempts to capture my gaze. I change position away from him. His sister declares that she’s ready.

Right; let’s go downstairs.

‘Dad! I’m not dressed yet…’

I walk down the stairs, telling her to put her shoes on.

In his nakedness he’s smiling and laughing as we get ready. He asks me a few questions, which ignore.

He persists. I stand firm.

His sister opens the back door and heads into the garden. Still in a state of undress, he puts his coat on.

I walk away from him and step into the garden. He screams…

I stop and go back.

I bend down and hold him tight.

We have conversation about what it feels like to be ignored; I do my best to keep it simple. He says he understands.

His sister, a witness to the entire charade, comments on my ability to maintain the ruse.

As I said; I don’t believe in striking a child but I do believe in discipline.

I’m not sure if what I did was any better.

storm

BSD