Category Archives: Family

Eyes wide open

Posted on by Neil
3

I never really knew about wearing glasses. Well, that doesn’t make sense….I knew I was wearing glasses, but it seemed to me that I had always been wearing them. It was me, it was how I was and it was who I was. I wore patches, I wore NHS specs, I put lions in cages and birds in menageries. That was my life.

When my eldest was born, I was frantic about his eyes. Checking, investigating, inspecting. Seeing whether any genetic weakness was passed on. Of course, I was just being a stupid over eager dad. He was cool, he was fine. His troubles were to be his own and not mine.

And then recently, I noticed that his school work, whilst academically excellent was lacking a certain attention. A certain……consideration. After working through his homework this morning, I showed him his early work and his current work and the difference between the two. One was proud, clear, certain. The other shambolic, scribbled and apologetic.

Then there were tears. LOTS of tears.

It seemed, he felt he couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t keep up because……..well, he couldn’t see.

The boy that had always been at the top of the class, was…….struggling.

It doesn’t take much to sort our problems, just the courage to admit what they are. A phone call, a car ride, a short walk and we are sitting in the opticians as they check his eyes. The result isn’t bad….certainly not as bad as mine, but he needs some specs. Speccy Woo has a Speccy Two.

The thing is, that when you wear glasses you don’t really know you wear glasses. But when you don’t wear them, then putting a pair on your face feels like………….well, having your nose chopped off. We went to try some on, he cried, we hugged, we pulled ourselves together and we got on with the show. This wasn’t serious, this was a pair of glasses. But when you’re twelve…..that means a lot.

So the glasses are here. They’re on and (I wouldn’t dare tell him this for fear of his embarrassment) but he looks cool. I know that specs are not the end of the earth, I also know the they can make you look damned sexy. But he has to figure that one out for himself.

In the meantime, he has the next couple of days to deal with, the reveal…… Maths should be easier, blackboards should be clearer, the television more vibrant. The positives are there in abundance.

And girlfriends? Well…..one thing at a time……we don’t need to rush here…….there is plenty of time for that.

I stuffed up……

Posted on by Neil
2

I don’t think of myself as a bad communicator. My job, a lot of my life is about communication, understanding the hidden messages of behaviour, reading between the lines, between the lines.  I guess you’d say it was an asset.

But even the proudest performers sometimes fall flat on their arses.

The thing about kids is that they communicate in ways that we, the “educated grown ups” just can’t and don’t understand. We base so much of our understanding of others on our cultural expectations of the norm. But the norm for us is, of course, not the norm of others. We don’t share a single lens on the world.

Tonight is Halloween and for children around the globe it is either a rite of passage, a ritual, or in some cases….the end of an era.

Those people who know me, know that both my kids practice Taekwondo to a relatively high level. Monday and Friday nights are training nights. As a family we don’t take it overly seriously, I’m not trying to relive past glories through my kids, but we do have rules about commitment and dedication.  These are principles that I hold dear.

Last night we had a conversation about training, the girl (at 9 years old) wanted to go “Trick or Treating” we talked about it and agreed that she could miss training if she worked hard for her next grading in December.  The boy (at 11 years old) said he wanted to go to Taekwondo. In other words a logistical nightmare.

Today has been a flurry of texts between myself and my wife about logistics and possibilities. Nothing seemed to be working. I eventually got a text from the boy, “I can go to Taekwondo every week, [the girl] can only do trick or treating once a year”. Eventually I managed to get home on time tonight and announced, “Now you can go to Taekwondo” to the boy.  He went upstairs and changed into his Dobok, but when I went upstairs something was wrong.

At first he started to limp, I asked what was wrong, the answer was unconvincing.  He prevaricated, I told him to hurry up. So I know that you’re reading this now, shouting, “HE DOESN’T WANT TO GO!!!”. Yes, I know that now.  But at the time, all I could see was his stated desire and my attempts to fulfil them. And then we argued.

To cut to the chase, he went to training….after a hissy fit beyond compare………….and enjoyed it.  We made up later as I told him that I had stuffed up.  Tomorrow is another day.

But the thing that really struck me is my inability to read the situation. Pressure? Fatigue? None of these things really provide an adequate answer.  The truth is that I’m used to listening and communicating with adults, not kids.  If I want to be the parent that I think I can be, I need to fine tune the radar.  Everyone is an individual, even children. And that means sometimes we need to place our assumptions aside and focus on the individual needs.

Humans are beautifully complex. Both young and old.

Boys to men

Posted on by Neil
1

Sometimes a little something demonstrates a big step. The smallest action that shows understanding, growth, maturity . There are things that kids need to learn and things that they need to be helped to learn – the years between 11 and 18 seem to incorporate so many changes, the real steps between childhood and adulthood. And whilst some of the changes will come about naturally as the body and mind develops, others will need to be teased out and encouraged.

There comes an age in a young person’s life (particularly I think if you’re a boy) when more and more you find adults extending their hand to you and that awkward embarrassing feeling of being neither adult nor child. A sense of feeling like you’re playing a game – let’s pretend we’re grown ups…..

Visiting my son’s new school a few weeks back, the teacher went to shake his hand and I saw all of this play out, he looked down at the floor, extended his hand and seemed to die inside from embarrassment. Later we talked about it, the history behind shaking hands, the importance of it in society, the fact that when someone extends their hand they are treating you as an equal…regardless of whether they are an adult or not. And you have a choice whether you want to step up and accept that.

Hold out your hand. Meet their eyes. Be confident.

Fast forward a couple of weeks later and I’m looking at the photos from the leavers’ assembly at his primary school. The end of the first stage of his life and of course the start of the next. I guess at that age it feels a little bit like your world is ending, everything that you know is being left behind and the future feels…..well unknown. A lot of the kids had tears in their eyes, including those from other classes, the tightness of the school community and the sense of family still amazes me.

At the end, the school presents each leaving child with a book that they have chosen as a reminder of their time there. One by one the children go up and meet the head teacher, receive the book and shake her hand. And there in the actions of the kids you can see everything that I’ve written about, awkwardness, extending the wrong hand, taking the book and not shaking the hand.

But then I see a photo, that makes me smile, but brings a tear to my eye. The boy, hand out stretched, making eye contact, confident.

Sometimes a little something demonstrates a big step. The boy is growing up.

Sticky wicket

Posted on by Neil
Reply

I’m going to talk about cricket.  But before you reach for the morphine (or the back button – depending on your fancy), just bear with me a little on this one?

I have a son who plays cricket.  He isn’t the greatest player in the team, nor is he the worst (by a long way). He plays in the first team and believe me at this age they are starting to get good enough to watch without the compulsory caffeine drinks to keep you awake.  He bats and he bowls to a reasonable level (for those of you that care, he is a lefty and so causes some problems in both departments).  But this season we had a new development,

“Dad, I want to play wickie”

For the uninitiated, the wickie is the sucker that stands behind the batsman and catches any wild balls as well as trying to catch, stump the batsman (ok….it is more complicated than that….but I’m trying to keep you with me).  When you play cricket aged 11, there are a lot of wild balls….and a lot for the wickie to do.  There is also a lot of focus on the poor kid having a wooden and leather ball hurled at him at speed, not to mention thumping great wooden bats swinging around his head.

Immediately a voice inside me wanted to say, “No….just bat and bowl…..let some other sucker take the blame for everything that goes wrong”.  But of course I didn’t and he started to play (straight away…..because no-one else wanted to).

Being on the sidelines when your kid plays sport is a heart wrenching experience, you want them to do well, you don’t want to pressure them and you want them to have fun.  But you can also hear the other kids and worst of all the parents…..

“Bloody dodgy keeper”

“If we had a decent keeper we’d have won”

The usual stuff. 

Admittedly I’m biased, but the fact is that this just isn’t true. It is just one of those roles where no-one notices the 100 balls that you take safely….only the one that you let through.

And of course if I can hear these comments, then so can the boy.

After the game, we normally have a drive home from whichever far-flung village they have been playing in and we discuss his and his team’s performance.  He is frank and open and honest about the things that he did well and the areas that he has to improve in.  We talk about the comments and how he needs to block them out and we talk about the importance on focussing on the things that you can control and not the things that you can’t.

If a kid bowls a ball that is 2 metres wide of the stumps that is not your responsibility, you can only try to rectify the situation.

I admit that when he started, I was secretly hoping that he would pack it in and let some other poor kid take the blame.  But he has proven to be made of sterner stuff than me and I completely support and respect his decision.  Instead of thinking of ways to persuade him to drop his responsibilities, I’m now reading up on training techniques and the role of a wicket keeper.

Sometimes it takes a boy to be a man, to show a man he is being a boy.

It’s all about balls

Posted on by Neil
1

I woke up this morning telling myself I wouldn’t apply for Olympic tickets a second time around. First time out we got nada….niet….nothing. I was kinda pissed at this to be honest, when the Olympic games were announced as being in London I was ecstatic and whilst everyone was bitching about the cost and the site and the legacy and the blah blah blah….well I was chuffed.

And when the chance came to register for information on tickets….well I was there too. The little Woo dudes are students of Taekwondo, the bigger one is taking his black belt exam in September aged 12 and the little(r) one isn’t far behind. So naturellement we thought that TKD tickets were the way to go.

#FAIL

The thing is, the criteria were all wrong. In my mind the selection should have been….

1)   Did you ever take the piss/moan about the games coming to London? If yes then do one.

2)   Do you do any sport at all yourself or do you consider cutting pizza to be the pinnacle of your athletic prowess? If yes, do one (and go for a jog).

3)   Are you having to borrow money in order to buy these tickets? If yes, do one and read about the debt crisis in the Western world.

4)   Can you explain the rules of the sport or event that you are applying to see? If no (you see….a trick answer!) then do one and read a book.

5)   Are you called Woo? If No (keeping up the trick answer) then do one, unless you are a stunningly attractive female, with the patience of a saint and the ability to suck golf balls through a hose – in which case call me

Sadly the appointment for ticket rule creator went to someone else (less qualified) and hence we all end up in this pickle. And what happens?

I bloody well bow down to media pressure and buy some. Bugger. Because at the end of the day….well I have to keep up with the Joneses don’t I?

And if that wasn’t enough, when I came to tell Mrs. W. the text conversation went something like this,

Me: Men’s volleyball……..

Her: As in beach volley? *closes eyes and prays*

Me: Pervert

I mean really…….talk about rubbing salt in the wound…..

A lesson learnt……

Posted on by Neil
1

It all started with a letter…. “next Friday the school will be taking the children on a teddy bears picnic in the woods nearby” “please bring your teddies so they can enjoy the picnic too”

This was greeted with whoops of delight by my 6 year old daughter and immediately got her mind ticking over of which prized teddy would be accompanying her on this mini adventure

So Friday arrived and the first question asked by excited 6 year old was “can I take Barbar?” the response was not to her liking “err no he is too big to take to the teddy bears picnic”

Upon hearing this negative response the usually mellow 6 year old launched into what I can only describe as a screaming tirade against all mothers that say no!

I was quite shocked by this reaction as it was the first time I had heard about the idea of Barbar making the trip to the woods… so I decided to dig a little and got this response

“I told my friends I will be bringing Barbar to the picnic and now they are all expecting him to come” “they are going to make fun of me now” (between the sobs)

I then proceeded to explain that Barbar was the same size as her and therefore he was a completely impractical companion for a jaunt in the woods!

I said that she will need to explain to her friends that she had promised something that she didn’t know she could deliver and she should have asked Mummy before talking to them about it

I then explained that in life to be prudent and err on the side of caution was sometimes a good thing (especially not knowing all the facts) and that under promising and over delivering was a far better way to conduct oneself than the other way around.

It did make me think about how similar it was to how you should conduct yourself in a business environment to ensure longevity of relationships with clients/partners/suppliers so there is mutual respect all round.

So the moral of the tale….don’t promise a Barbar when you can only deliver a Pooh Bear…

Lisa x

N.B. I took her to school and I felt her hand grasp mine tightly at the school gate – I gave her a reassuring hug whilst whispering in her ear – don’t let it fester – be bold, go and talk to them before the school bell goes….

I don’t have a personal blog but sometimes I want to share an experience and I would like to thank my lovely friend in letting me cyber squat his site x

Freedom isn’t just another word for nothing left to lose

Posted on by Neil
7

Do you know how hot a kettle is before you touch it?

How sharp a knife is before you cut yourself with it?

Or, how it feels to be lost….until you are lost?

When I was a kid things were simpler.  When my parents were kids they were simpler still.  I ran through the woods, I did shit and stuff and we walked the streets looking for fun.

What has changed?

Surprisingly little, other than our fear, our paranoia and our absolute dissociation with reality.

What I mean is…the problem is in your head, the problem is not other people.

Kids learn by taking risks, kids learn by getting things wrong, kids learn by fucking things up.  That is how I learnt, that is how you learnt, so why the hell are we preventing our kids from learning in exactly the same way?

Let them run wild, let them do things that make you worry, let them fall out of trees, into rivers. Let legs and arms be broken, let tears be shed, let fear be feared and let us let them free.

Free from us.

Free from our fears.

Free to grow.

Sex, lies and the internet

Posted on by Neil
6

What would make you cheat on your partner? A hard one to answer for most of us I’d guess. And not really the sort of question that you mull over with your corn flakes on a sunny day.

If you read a lot of the articles like this one, though you’ll begin to think the answer is simple.

The internet.

And of course the statistics are looking quite amazing with 20% of divorce cases in the US now involving Facebook in one way or another, Twitter in 5% and other social media in 14%. But the thing is, this doesn’t really deal with the question in hand.

For people to contravene societal norms, two things need to be in place:

Opportunity + Intent

A first glance would say that the internet is opportunity. Going back to chat rooms, or Friends Reunited and moving up to Facebook, Twitter etc. there is clearly greater opportunity for indulging in bad behaviour if one wants to. You can reconnect with old flames or acquaintances in a way that was never previously possible. “I wonder what happened to xxxx” becomes not a philosophical question, but an easy research topic.

But the thing that really interests me is the intent.  Divorce rates have been increasing and adultery remains the main reason that relationships end. So there is a trend there anyway. There will be crossover between online and offline too. Where the internet is just a replacement for the hushed phone calls.  But looking at the statistics there is also a whole load of people doing stuff that they wouldn’t normally do.  The intent paradigm has shifted.

Something in the human brain seems to say, “this isn’t real” or perhaps even “this doesn’t matter”. Of course looked from the flip side, the “deceived” partner would probably argue that the feelings of betrayal, loss of trust etc. are absolutely as real. So what’s going on? And where does it stop? As social media and the internet develops as the mobile internet becomes quicker and faster and easier and as usage becomes second nature are we going to see societal views change and a new norm of acceptability become defined? Or are we sitting on an emotional time bomb that will severely impact our children, their children and the essence of social fabric as we know it?

Home is where the heart is

Posted on by Neil
5

I hate going away.

There is nothing at all glamorous or exciting about travelling when you have a family and you are leaving them behind.  Add to this the fact that I am by nature a control freak….and you get a whole mess of emotions and insecurities and fears.

I decided to be at home today, so that I could take the kids to school and pick them up – a rare joy and a small way of doing something special with them before I disappear.  Sadly the demons of panic and control took over and what should have been a pleasant experience turned into a gnarly, stressy, shouty experience.

All of my own making.

All my own fault.

As I sit here now I can feel the desire for something to go wrong.  Illness, travel problems, rejection by immigration control. Anything that will see me come back safely and sooner than anticipated.

I’m an adult and I know I need to suck these feelings up and grow a pair. I know that the next ten days bring me the opportunity to do two things that I am fortunate and privileged to be doing. I know that deep inside they are things that I want to be doing.

Nonetheless.

I REALLY hate going away.