Real World Ranting

Number 3!

2012-01-30T08:09:00.001-08:00

I’ve been waiting for today like an impatient child waitingfor Santa. I’ve been waiting so I could tell my son, my sister, my friends…I’ve been dying to say something to just about ANYONE but promised I would keepschtum until today.

We let my son have the morning off school so he could comewith us and find out for himself. Then we went for lunch with my sister and,before either Chloe or me could get a word in, our son told my sister.

Then we went to see Chloe’s parents and our son told themthe good news. Then it was to the phone to ring around my nearest and dearestwho aren’t close enough to just pop in on.

And now that’s done, I can put it here.

We’re having another baby!!!!!

Number 3 will be with us in early August – probably justbefore Sophie’s first birthday.

We didn’t plan to have another baby within a year ofSophie’s birth. But by the same token we didn’t do anything to prevent it. Andwe’ve discussed how wonderful it will be to have two so close together in age.Our son is enjoying his older brother role and will feel like King of the Kidswith 2 younger siblings to protect.

He’s excited!

Needless to say, our little girl is far too young tounderstand (she’s only just 5 months old)!

But I understand and today I’m so happy to be able to shareit. I promised I’d wait until the 12 week scan, which was this morning. Our sonjust loved it – as much as Chloe and I did.

What a wonderful feeling. I’m ALL KINDS of excited all overagain.

When Things Work Out

2012-01-27T06:56:00.000-08:00

I’ve been really fortunate over the last year to see so manyof my friends and family enjoying life… getting good things, achievingawesomeness and generally getting all the greatness I know they deserve.

And when things just ‘work out’ it makes absolutelyeverything bad they had to go through seem like a distant memory. Allow me togive my favourite example:

My Sister

Fell pregnant (unplanned) to an asshole boyfriend. That wasnot great. On the flip side, it led to my beautiful nephew and he has made herthe happiest woman on the planet.

She split with the Father of her son and he decided hewanted nothing to do with his son. On the flip side, my sister met an awesomeguy who treats her son as his own.

Awesome guy was homesick and moved back to Brazil. Hideousfor her. But then he came back and (very romantically) just turned up on herdoorstep telling her he misses her and her son too much to be away. They willmarry in March.

It’s always shit to have to experience break ups, deaths,loss, stress, financial hardship or pain of any kind. But without it, could wereally ever fully appreciate what we have? It took my sister enduring arelationship with a waste of space to fully appreciate a nice guy. It took themlosing one another to fully appreciate how much they want one another.

I look at my situation – my wife, my beautiful children,business and home… and I look at where I was a few years back and how dark itall seemed. I feel as though I appreciate what I have so much more than I thinkI otherwise would have.

My friends (online and offline) who I see thriving in theirlives and genuinely experiencing happiness are benefitting from what I like toconsider good karma. These are good people who deserve good things.

I love it when things work out.

From Russia with Love...

2012-01-16T07:32:00.000-08:00

FromRussia with Love…

“FromRussia with Love. Lol.”

That’show she signed off the email in which she confirmed she would be moving to theUK so I could be close to my son. Only a couple of weeks later I was pickingthem both up at the airport, eternally grateful to a woman who was turning herworld upside down to allow me to have a real relationship with that little boy.That little boy had taught me more about love in the first 24 hours I had knownhim than I had learnt in the 20-something years prior.

Noteven two years later, that little boy and I would be back in Russia attendingthe funeral of his Mother – of the woman who made my relationship with my sonpossible.

Andjust 2 years later again, that little boy would be a little man with aninspiring outlook on the world. For someone so young, he’s been through a greatdeal and handles it better than many adults I know handle their own challenges.

Myson has a homework assignment to talk about the greatest gift he’s ever had. Aswe sat down to talk about it yesterday, he asked me;

“What’sthe greatest gift you ever had?”

“That’seasy,” I told him. “You and your sister – the best gifts ever.”

“Iwasn’t a gift!” he laughed. “I didn’t get wrapped up!”

“Youwere a gift,” I assured him. “You were brought to me all the way from Russia.And no, you weren’t wrapped up. But not all gifts get wrapped up, do they?”

“MyPlaystation was wrapped up?” he told me. “And so was my guitar and those newnotebooks you got me for my birthday. And everything Santa brought was wrappedup!”

“Notall your gifts have been wrapped though… your new bedroom wasn’t wrapped. Yournew sister wasn’t wrapped either, was she?”

Hehas an answer for everything so I was a little surprised when he didn’t sayanything for a moment.

“Hmm..I know what my best gift ever was. And it wasn’t wrapped,” he finally said.

“Whatwas it?” I enquired.

“I’lltell you later.”

Andoff he went to get started on the assignment.

Twohours or so later he brought his book to me and asked me to look over the work.The title was, as per instruction from his teacher, “The Best Gift I’ve EverReceived.”

Iread it, corrected one or two little errors and explained to him why they wereerrors and then I suggested he took it to Chloe.

Shecried – tears of happiness of course. And he had the biggest smile on his faceever. Sometimes it just feels that goodmaking someone’s day.

I’llleave you with the opening paragraph:

“The best gift I’ve everreceived is my new Mum. Her name is Chloe. She isn’t my only Mum. My first Mum diedfrom cancer and then I thought I would never have a Mum. But Chloe married myDad and they asked me if I would like it if Chloe was my Mum. I said I’d likeit a lot because I love Chloe and she loves me even though she didn’t know mewhen I was a baby.”

Merry Christmas

2011-12-24T05:20:00.001-08:00

Well, I’ve finished work for a couple of weeks to spend sometime with my family over the festive period and I will be coupling with thissome ‘down time’ from the Internet too.

So this is me signing off until the New Year.

It’s a Christmas of firsts: my daughter’s first Christmas,the first Christmas since my wife became the legal parent of my son and ourfirst Christmas married. So tomorrow will be an exciting day. We’re having bothmine and Chloe’s families at our house for dinner so the preparation is wellunderway already.

Then between Christmas and New Year is my son’s 8^thbirthday before we celebrate a family New Year.

It will be a busy one and I cannot wait.

To all of you, I wish a very, very Merry Christmas and anincredibly Happy New Year with friends, family and loved ones.

Here’s to a 2012 filled with joy and smiles.

I’ll speak to you all in the New Year :)

The Simple Things

2011-12-19T03:10:00.001-08:00

The things that make me the happiest are the simple ones.Yes, we all love to go on holidays to the Caribbean and we all enjoy indulgenceand certain materialisms. But what really makes me happiest is the stuff thatsome people might consider boring.

I like coming home from a long day at the office and sittingdown to dinner. I like helping out my son with his homework and talking to mywife about the day we’ve had. Some people think sitting in front of a movie isdull. But for me, family movie time is some of the most precious there is.

I know of nothing more beautiful than those quiet moments inthe evening as Chloe rests her head on my chest on the sofa, as my son sits onthe other side of me and we all hold our little baby girl between us. I know ofnothing more beautiful than that.

I crave nothing more than the smell of Chloe’s hair firstthing in the morning. I love nothing more than the sound of my son’s footstepscoming towards our bedroom on a Sunday morning and there’s no sweeter soundthan that of a tiny baby girl giggling to herself from her cot. Could there beanything better?

I think not.

The simple things might not be to everyone’s tastes, but forme they are the most perfect of things in the most perfect of times and I feelas grateful as I have ever felt for anything.

Connections

2011-12-09T03:17:00.001-08:00

I believe we only ever trulyconnect with a handful of people in our lifetimes. We can have closefriends, lovers, confidantes… but I believe those we have a real connection with are few and farbetween.

What I mean by a real connection is one such that you knowwhen they’re down, even if they’re not with you, even if you haven’t spoken tothem that day… you just know. Youcan’t explain how but you just feel it.

You also know when they’re happy. You know when something isgoing well for them. You feel happy too even if they haven’t shared it.

You say the same things at the same times. You know whenthey’re thinking about you… You have an intrinsic understanding of how what yousay or do will impact them.

When you have a connection like that with someone, you’re atyour most vulnerable to them and they to you. You give yourself (whether bychoice or not) and you just have to hope they will cherish what you give.

I’ve experienced such a connection but a handful of times.

Fortunately for me, though, one such connection became mywife and the Mother of my beautiful daughter and NOW also the legal parent of my son.

Yes, the legal adoption process for Chloe to becomerecognised as my son’s parent is now complete. Success!

He’s as happy as she is… and what great timing.

Merry Christmas :)

For Mothers

2011-11-24T04:53:00.001-08:00

For my wife, my sisterand for all the other Mothers I have the pleasure of knowing.

You are beautiful.

Insideand out.

The selfless sacrifices you make for your children nevercease to amaze me. You give up your body to them, your heart to them, your soulto them. They become a part of you.

You make decisions not for yourselves solely, but based onwhat the children need and what the children want.

You inspire me.

You instinctively know when something isn’t right. Andwhat’s more… you know what to say to make it better. You also know when thereis nothing you can say to make it better and have mastered the perfect hug tofit these occasions. It’s a hug that says,

‘Iwish I could take your pain away.’

But you can’t. You can’t always fix the problem but itdoesn’t matter, because even when the damage is irreparable you, yes YOU, makeit hurt less.

You turn bleeding knees and bruised elbows into nothing witha simple magic kiss. You pull the silver lining from colds and tummy bugs withsofa based-under-duvet cuddles accompanied by day time TV that make illnessesworthwhile.

You make the best dinners. Even if dinner is just beans ontoast, you guys know how to make it best. And even if someone else (Dadincluded, it pains me to say) tried to make your speciality, even if it is donethe same way and using the same ingredients from the same brands, it does not taste the same. It’s missingsomething – YOUR magic touch!

Mothers, you are wonderful. You’re selfless, inspiring andutterly incredible.

Life in a Day

2011-11-24T01:37:00.001-08:00

I watched the Life in a Day film on Youtube this morning.The entire 1 hour and 34 minutes of it. I wasn’t planning to, but from themoment it began I knew I wouldn’t be able to switch it off.

For those of you who don’t know much about it, essentially,on 24^th July 2010, as part of what would become a historic piece ofcinematic history, thousands of people videoed parts of their day and answereda few questions. They uploaded these videos to Youtube and then a feature filmwas produced from the thousand of hours of footage uploaded.

The result is a beautiful snapshot of a single day on planetEarth. It documents our happiness, our fears, our sadness, our hardship, ourchallenges, our joy, our love…

A particular snippet that resonated with me begins at1:26:03… the scene in which a man is talking to his wife who is sick withcancer. He says he’s now ‘fearless’ and that way of looking at the difficultythey face is just amazing. If you haven’t yet seen it, you really should.

Personal Accountability

2011-11-23T02:47:00.000-08:00

It never ceases to amaze me how many adults struggle with the concept of personal accountability.

I was taught to ‘own up’ when I’d done something wrong as a child and while it isn’t always the easiest thing to do, it’s something I think it important.

NONE of us are perfect and that’s just a consequence of being human. We do make mistakes. But I am tired of hearing things (from adults!) like:

- Sorry I’m late, it wasn’t my fault. My brother was supposed to wake me up.
- I was encouraged by someone else to binge drink!
- I only eat crap food because it’s what my boyfriend brings home.
- Our breakup was his/her fault.
- [Insert anything at all here] was his/her fault.

My son got in trouble at school last week for talking repeatedly during class.

“You know you’re supposed to listen in class,” I told him. “It’s important.”

“I know,” he responded. “But Kyle kept talking to me.”

“So you’re saying it’s Kyle’s fault? Really?”

He took a moment to think about it.

“No. It was my fault. I talked when I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t me you need to apologise to, is it?”

“No. It’s my teacher.”

And to his credit, I was informed that the next morning he went to his teacher and apologised for interrupting her lesson.

The point is that he is SEVEN and even at that age is able to comprehend the concept of accepting personal accountability for his role in issues or disputes and for the mistakes he makes.

WE ALL MAKE MISTAKES! But I’m tired of supposedly grown adults who are still completely incapable of accepting the part they played, preferring instead to blame everyone and everything around them for everything that happens. It’s incredibly childish.

/Rant over.

Day may continue :)

For Thee

2011-11-22T08:21:00.001-08:00

For thee, my heart.

It’s stitched in parts,

Imperfect gift,

But it’s yours if

You’re sure

That you will keep it.

For thee, my love.

Unworthy of

Yours in return,

But I have learnt

That nonetheless,

You give it.

For thee, my life,

My stunning wife,

I give to thee forever.

Tis Little Wonder

2011-11-22T06:34:00.000-08:00

Tis little wonder

You lie alone

In bed at night

Your lonely home.

For you will push

Them all away.

Even those who

Want to stay.

You will scream

And sulk and shout

And push until

They all walk out.

And then you’ll cry

And blur the truth.

And tell the world

How THEY hurt YOU.

You’ll accept no

Ounce of blame,

Deny, deny

The part you played.

Tis little wonder,

You lie alone,

When you pushed love

Out of your home.

Especially for my Sister's former, the 'Father' of my nephew (an undeserved title) and for all those others of similar attitude.

Home

2011-11-19T05:48:00.003-08:00

Home is where I find her

Standing, smiling, holding child

A beautiful reminder…

…that everything is perfect.

I had a wonderfully productive week on business in North America building a very useful business relationship with some companies out there. It was great (but cold!) and I achieved more this week than I anticipated.

But boy am I glad to be home.

As I crept into the house at 5.30am I was expecting dark and silence. Everyone would be asleep, I was sure.

But I was wrong.

The little one had woken for a feed and this had woken up my oldest son who, realising I was due home soon, decided he was staying up. So as I pulled up in the driveway I noticed the living room light on. I walked in to my boy in his PJs, my wife in hers, the fire on and our baby daughter cooing away to herself.

Home.

I was only away 6 days but I missed them all so much. I spent most evenings in a hotel room on Skype talking to them all but it just isn’t the same as being able to cuddle up with them. So I made us all hot chocolate, we cuddled up on the couch and caught up before going back to bed shortly after.

I am tired today but that doesn’t stop me feeling like the luckiest guy on the planet.

Lest We Forget

2011-11-11T03:22:00.000-08:00

Lest we forget

The fallen souls

Their brave, courageous

Costly roles.

Lest we forget

The Fathers who

Broke children’s hearts

To fight for you.

Lest we forget

What went before,

The crumbling, humbling

Cost of war.

Today we remember fallen soldiers - people who selflessly gave their lives for our freedom. Courageous, selfless people who valued our liberty above all else.

Today we remember that these people are real heroes... not celebrities, cartoon heroes or cult icons. These soldiers, the ones who fell in battle, those are heroes.

I told my son all about WW1 and WW2 last year. He loves to learn and is moved each Armistice Day to tears. He's in school today where he will by now have marked the day with a 2 minute silence, just as I did and just as so many millions of others did too.

Lest we forget. Lest we allow our children to forget. For while the memory is fresh and painful, so is the fear of this ever happening again prominent.

As it should be.

Rest, now, men. The battle's done.

Sharing a Home

2011-11-09T07:20:00.001-08:00

Chloe and I are very proud of the home we’ve built for our children. There’s a stable environment where the kids will always feel safe. It’s not and never will be about physical possessions. It’s not just about having both parents around either – I have always been a true believer that single parent families can thrive just as dual parent families do. What makes a house a home for kids is a feeling of security and, most importantly, LOVE.

“Your children are so, so lucky,” said a friend of mine last night. This friend was in foster care as a child and is working hard himself to build the sort of home he never had for his wife and child too.

“Thanks,” I responded. “Yours too.”

“I’m thinking I want to foster,” he told me. “I want to give something back. I understand these kids and I think I can be a positive influence.”

And so ensued a conversation last night between he, myself and Chloe about fostering and by the end of it, Chloe was absolutely sold on the idea of her and I applying to become foster parents too.

We’ve always said we want a big family. We have our eldest boy, who is 7, and our baby daughter who is 2 and a half months. We plan another one or two as well (being a Dad is my favourite thing in the world). But what she really wants to do is to provide a safe environment specifically for children who have never, ever had the benefit of such an environment themselves.

Being in short term foster care can be unnerving for children. These are often kids who have never benefitted from any stability and the environment they find themselves in during their stints in foster care can have a huge impact on their lives, on who they become and on their attitude to life.

Chloe feels passionately that we could make a difference to many children’s lives by applying ourselves to become Foster parents.

And I couldn’t agree more.

So I’ve been printing reams and reams of information on what’s involved, the process, how to apply. We want to wait until our youngest is 6 months old or so before applying but we’re both incredibly excited about the prospect of being able to share our home with children who most need a stable and loving environment.

Can’t wait :=)

Silence and Happy Sounds

2011-11-08T07:42:00.001-08:00

Silence is hugely underrated. Sitting there and just breathing, watching your surrounding or thinking without distraction is, perhaps, one of life’s greatest gifts.

I’ve managed to clear out some old junk recently, in metaphoric terms… clearing out some of the people who make the most unwelcome, unconstructively critical, irrational and stirring-the-pot-at-every-opportunity type noise (both people who had been surrounding me and/or Chloe) and my wife and I are feeling much the better for it.

It occurred to me this morning that I wasn’t stressed. I wasn’t wondering who was going to be causing trouble by email, phone or text. It occurred to me that the only people in my life now are people who are happy for my happiness. People who are genuinely pleased to see me and my little family together.

So for those friends and family members both near and far…. Cheers :=)

I was once advised that friendships ending does not necessarily mean that either party is just bad… just that their time together as friends was done and they were incompatible in some ways. I’m inclined to agree, perhaps with the only exception being for the type of people who seem to be losing friends every other day… I think in those cases people need to take a look closer to home. But on the whole, I agree that the end of friendships is a natural part of life, a road forking and two individuals having to separate to head their own different ways. When people have different destinations, it does not make sense for their whole journey to be together.

And what is left is the group of friends who are aiming for the same destination, all encouraging one another to get there.

I like sound. Not noise. I like the sound of friends, laughter and encouragement, constructive criticism and the sound of a hand patting your back. I have decided to no longer include in my life people whose sounds are unhappy.

Silence and happy sounds only permitted from here on in :)

Feeling Beautiful

2011-11-07T10:07:00.001-08:00

“You know what?” Chloe asked me, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind as I made breakfast this morning.

“What?”

“I feel sexy again… I feel beautiful.”

“You’ve always been beautiful…” I told her honestly.

“But having a baby, well… It made me feel a little out of shape and, I don’t know, just not as on form as previously.”

I kissed her.

“You make me feel beautiful,” she continued. “You really do.”

And that there is perhaps the most wonderful compliment I’ve been given.

Chloe is naturally very beautiful, a natural looking girl. She doesn’t colour her hair or slap on tonnes of make up. She’s naturally a pretty girl. She’s not too skinny or gaunt looking. She’s a stunning (UK) size 12/14 (I’m writing this with her consent!). She’s simply gorgeous. Her long brown hair, her big beautiful eyes, her sweet smile… I love it all. She’s absolutely stunning.

I’ve always been a fan of the natural look. Overly made up, three-times-weekly hair dye sessions, gaunt and anorexic looking women have never been my thing. I’m a real fan of everything feminine: curves, long hair… I love it.

And I love her. My beautiful, beautiful wife.

Chloe, I’m so glad you got your confidence back, sweetheart. xx

For Amy

2011-11-04T15:36:00.000-07:00

It’s recently been the 1 year anniversary of the passing of one of my closest friends.

Amy.

Even just saying her name makes me smile.

Amy was involved in a car accident, taken too soon from a world that was just starting to make her happy. I believe some people are always just destined for more beautiful things than this world can ever offer them. Those are the people taken too soon. Those are the ones we lose and miss and spend the rest of our days praying for one last moment with.

Amy, Amy, Amy… my sweet, sweet friend. I hope you’re dancing to 90s dance music somewhere beautiful enough to deserve you.

Sleep well, sweetheart

November, North America and Nanowrimo

2011-11-02T07:07:00.000-07:00

An incredibly busy November lies ahead.

I have been building a business relationship with someone on the other side of Atlantic and a trip that should have taken place some 4 months from now has been moved to… THIS MONTH! Talk about sudden but there there’s a great opportunity, I’m in : )

That leaves Chloe holding the babies for a week – hard work with a tiny baby and a 7 year old with big ideas. She’s incredibly supportive of my business progress though and our little family unit allows Chloe and I to do what we're best at... building a comfortable home, a business and happy children.

I also promised to support my son in his bid to do Nanowrimo this month. He’s so juiced. He has a plot, his characters (all planned ahead of the start of November) and has now began putting pen to paper. I’ll be coaching him via webcam in the week I’m on the North American continent of course : )

And as well as that, we have our Christmas preparations underway. We’re having Chloe’s family and my family at our house for dinner. Having the out of down countryside house has been incredible for my son. He loves the space. He loves to explore and we’re in a fortunate position of being able to accommodate everyone for dinner this year. It’s incredibly exciting for us – our first Christmas as a married couple and our baby girl’s first Christmas too. There’s so much happening.

I’m full of smiles. I’m 30 with a business I love, an amazing wife and two beautiful children. The sky seems so much bluer this year and the busy month ahead will be a phenomenal one.

Poorly Baba

2011-10-25T09:23:00.000-07:00

What a day.

Long story short: Chloe called me this morning and told me the baby was sick and she was taking her to the Doctor's. Doctor sent baby to hospital, hospital admitted baby.

I'm now home packing up my son's things so he can go to my sister's for the night before I go pitch up at the hospital for the night with Chloe and my little girl.

Poor little baby :(

Get well soon, Princess

xx

Soul Mates and Friends

2011-10-24T07:56:00.001-07:00

Let us simply lie together,

Underneath the sky forever,

Stars will whisper lover’s song

This place is where we two belong.

My son asked me a poignant question this morning.

“Was Chloe your friend first or your girlfriend first?”

“Friend,” I told him. “She was one of my best friends, then we were sort of boyfriend and girlfriend for a while and then we were just friends again. And then we met up many years later, became boyfriend and girlfriend again and then got married.”

“So is it better if your girlfriend is your friend first.”

“Absolutely,” I told him. “Much better... Chloe is still my best friend.”

“So now she is your friend and she’s your wife?” he asked.

“Yes. Husbands and wives should always be great friends too.”

“I think so too, Dad. Cos I really like all my friends and we laugh together all the time. When I get married I want to like my wife just as much as I like my friends.”

That had me reminiscing silently, alone as I drove to work. Every relationship I’ve enjoyed has be born of a fabulous friendship first and foremost. It’s important to remain friends. Sometimes, when you spend so much time with someone, you can take them for granted. I think friendship stops that happening to some degree.

I love the moments I spend with Chloe because the conversation is easy, the laughter is abundant and we never run out of things to say. Even if we have a stressed out few days or an argument or one of us is feeling a little under the weather for a couple of days, it’s never long until we’re laughing in one another’s company and having a good conversation about anything and everything.

That friendship is the foundation of everything.

The love was always there. It was just silent for a time as our hearts fathomed out what they were really looking for. But it was always there.

Friendship is the foundation on which everything good is built. Friendship, love, respect and understanding. We have it and we’re blessed.

I was moved today by a quote I read by Maya Angelou;

“In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. In all the world there is no love for you like mine.”

What beautiful words that sum up soul mates so well.

Appreciating Awesome

2011-10-23T14:50:00.000-07:00

I've learned something recently: to accept happiness. To not question how long happiness might last or whether there's a catch or who might try to piss all over it. Simply to accept it, to appreciate it and to enjoy it.

I have two spectacularly beautiful and wonderful children. They're so precious to me and I am so, so grateful for them.

I have a wife who understands me on a level nobody ever has before. I don't think I'm the only person to have ever been in love... I'm not trying to brag or boast about it or imply that nobody understands how I feel about it. I'm not the only person to have ever been in love and I know that... but I feel as though I am when I'm with her.

And in the moments I am not with her, my mind wanders to where hers is at during quiet moments of the day just to sit within her thoughts for a moment. She doesn't think I am perfect. But by the same token, she accepts that as much as each of our best character traits complement one another's, so too do our flaws. And that, to me,is what a relationship is all about. It's not about delusions of perfection or flawlessness.It's about two people who love one another's greatest traits but accept one another's flaws and where one's strengths compensate for another's weaknesses.

In previous relationships I've questioned... 'How long can happiness like this last? How long until the novelty wears off?' I've never really just accepted happiness and enjoyed it for what it it. Chloe has taught me to be grateful for what we have and my ability to appreciate the awesome life we've built is making it a happier one for all four of us.

No questions, no querying what the catch is and no worrying that it might end. This happiness, this life, this wonderful family is mine to keep, mine to love and mine to cherish. And I promise you all, my wife, my son and my daughter... this life is for keeps. These smiles are forever and this love is eternal.

Welcome to happy, folks :) Enjoy the ride!

What a weekend :)

2011-10-23T06:47:00.001-07:00

What a weekend! I’ve had an amazing 48 hours – a perfect blend of family and friends time and some alone time with my wife.

Too exhausted for a really long post but thank you to my wife, to my sister, to my children and friends for an absolutely awesome weekend packed full of birthday celebrations.

You lot are amazing.

For My Wife

2011-10-21T09:17:00.001-07:00

We’ve taken bricks

And made a home

Where none within

Will feel alone.

We’ve taken time,

Spent it together,

Made memories

We’ll keep forever.

We’ve taken vows,

We’ll hold till end,

My lover, soulmate,

Wife and friend.

Thank you….

For everything

xxx

A Party and a Getaway

2011-10-17T05:47:00.000-07:00

This week, I'll turn 30. I was hoping it might slip quietly by but there's little chance of that with my son, sister and wife!

I was told this morning (it was an attempted surprise but in order to make it work with my timings/meetings/other plans they had to tell me) that there's a whole weekend of activity planned. Friday night will be a gathering with the whole family and lots of friends. A party, if you will!

I'm surprisingly excited given the list of people I'm advised will be there. My son is really excited too. It will be awesome to see everyone.

And on Saturday myself and Chloe will go away just for a night.

"On Saturday, me and Sophie are going to go stay with Auntie Stacey," my son told me, "So you and Chlo can relax. Stacey said you're going to get mushy. That's disgusting. So I don't want to know about that."

Nice.

But indeed, Chlo has booked us an evening in one of my favourite places and it will be lovely to relax.

No chance of a big birthday passing by silently, it seems.

There'll be cake too, I'm told, though a certain 7 year old was keen to point out, "We won't be able to fit all those candles on but we'll put a few on for you."

Thanks, guys :)

I HATE Cancer

2011-10-06T05:25:00.001-07:00

I told my son this morning that Steve Jobs has passed away after losing his battle with cancer. He knows of Steve Jobs from previous Apple keynotes and, from previous talks we’ve had, knows he was also a big part of Pixar and thus responsible for so many of the wonderful films my son loves.

He was down about it – perhaps more saddened than I was! He was quiet as he got ready for school and on the drive in suddenly piped up with:

“I really hate cancer. I know you said I shouldn’t say I hate anything but I really, really, really, really hate cancer.”

What a profound statement for a seven year old to make.

“That’s ok,” I told him, “I hate cancer too.”

“CANCER, I HATE YOOOOOOU!” he shouted.

I felt compelled to join in and within seconds we were both shouting ‘I hate cancer, cancer I hate you,’ a t the top of our lungs in the car.

It felt bizarrely empowering to express that level of hatred for something that has cost both me and my son our Mothers.

“Why are there no tablets you can take for cancer, Dad?” he asked.

I explained how difficult it is to cure cancer, how the cells mutate and how it can spread. He followed and understood quite well.

I told him about the charities working to cure cancer – many of which he has come across before.

Before he got out of the car he told me,

“We should make a book and sell it and give all the money to Cancer research so they might find a cure faster.”

“Great idea, kiddo. What will your book be about?”

“I’m going to write a book with poems and stories in about why I hate cancer so much.”

I kissed him.

“We’ll plan it tonight, kiddo.”

And we will. I will encourage him every step of the way, not just because of the actual donations I’m confident he will raise for charity, but because this will empower him. This will make him feel like he can actually do something about cancer – like he is actually doing something against it and that will go really far in enabling him to process his own loss of his Mother.

Today in particular, I am incredibly, incredibly proud of my little man.

See You Later, Matey

2011-10-03T05:32:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow, my cousin and best friend, Craig, will leave the UK for a new life on the other side of the world with his lovely (pregnant!) wife.

It’s a big move but one that is most definitely an amazing one for him and his wife.

So, Craigy boy…. This is the nearest you will get to any sentiment from me. I wish you every success in the world in the new job and I’m really frikkin jealous that as we enter winter you will be coming into summer. And it isn’t even like you can enjoy that either, without going bright red within 15 minutes of exposure.

I’ll miss you. I’ll miss your wise words of advice, despite my frequent reluctance to admit that any of it is wise at all. And the kids will miss Uncle Craig so so much. Save me a spot in the sun though, matey. I’ll be there in a few months for a visit to see new arrival and scope out your new place.

Love ya, bud.

Desperately Seeking Approval

2011-09-27T07:03:00.000-07:00

I seek approval from dead people.

I’m not a weirdo. I don’t mean that in a freaky kind of 6^th sense ‘I see dead people,’ way.

Since my Mother died I cannot count the number of times that I have asked myself what she would have thought of a particular decision I’d made or a way I’d behaved.

I don’t think there is anything necessarily wrong with that. My Mother was a staunch Catholic but one who put my happiness above any religious beliefs. When I told her in my early teens that I do not believe in God she was clearly disappointed. But she didn’t try and change my mind:

“Make your own decisions,” she told me, “I’m confident that you do not need a God to live as a good man. But God will be there waiting for you to find him again.”

We rarely discussed my lack of Faith after that again.

But as my Mother was a woman of very admirable morals, I like to use her as a benchmark.

“What would Mum think?” I asked my sister again over lunch today (I love my lunch hour when it’s spent with my sister and nephew) as we discussed a few current goings on and talked about how our lives have both changed in recent years.

“She’d think you’d given her two of the most beautiful Grandchildren in the world and that you are a good husband and work hard for your family. And she’d tell you she’s proud and remind you again that all she ever wants is to see you happy.”

It would have been easy to dismiss as ‘something nice your sister says’ were it not for the fact that I know she is saying the exact words my Mother would say. I’ve made mistakes in the past. I’m not perfect. But I think I am doing alright and I think she would think I am too.

Any single time I am faced with a decision I ask myself what she would think. Any time I face a complication I ask the same question. I don’t always follow paths that she herself would follow – in the same way I wouldn’t always agree with her if she were here now. But any time I do make a decision, I like to feel that if it is not one she would approve of, that it is one I can in the very least justify and know that she would understand.

I’d say it’s ‘funny’ or ‘odd’ to live life like that. But it’s not. I used to think it was odd – my need to understand what she would think or the need to apologise to her for mistakes when she is no longer here. But really I suppose it is perfectly normal for a man to want to make his Mother proud. And I'm far from ashamed to admit that is something I certainly want to do.

Kids Get ALL the Best Colds

2011-09-21T11:55:00.001-07:00

I’m feeling sorry for myself today because I have a horrendous cold. My son was off school today he was feeling so ill with it and my baby girl is getting a bit stuffy nosed as well. Chloe is full of it too (and she had to deal with two suffering children all day lol). Me? Well I went to the office for meetings.

By the time I came home at 6, the three of them (and the two dogs) were all snuggled up on the couch with a duvet and, despite being sick, looked absolutely adorable!!

Veggie soup for dinner with fresh baguettes. Now who needs cold and flu remedies when you have that?

So tonight is about crashing in front of the telly with hot drinks.

It seems at this time of the year my son comes home with a different cold every month. Isn’t it delightful how they just go to school and come home with report cards and viruses to share with the whole family? : )

Adam Vs Children

2011-09-14T14:12:00.001-07:00

This weekend will be, erm, busy.

I am sending my sister and my wife off to a spa for the weekend. Chloe is exhausted and, well, my sister doesn’t even pretend to need an excuse for a weekend of pampering. The spa weekend will do them BOTH the world of good.

What that means, is that I will be at home with my son (aged 7), my daughter (4 weeks this weekend) and my nephew (2 and half – almost).

Now, the baby on her own is a dream. Yes, she cries. But not all that much really and she’s so adorable when she smiles at you that it’s all ok. My son, alone, is great! He’s well behaved, likes documentaries, movies and playing football (I love all that stuff too). My nephew alone is, well, he’ll keep you busy, let’s say that. He’s an adorable, albeit very cheeky little chap.

But when you put my son and nephew together it becomes utter chaos. And when you add a baby into the mix (a baby who my son thinks he is the sole protector of and who my nephew thinks is his play toy) and well, it’s a stressful job!

But I’m actually looking forward to it. Movies, football, walks and chill time.

My nephew is in bed by 7:30 most nights and my son by 9:30 at weekends. So, subject to my baby girl, I might even have a couple of hours to myself.

Adam vs Children begins this Friday at 5pm live from Manchester.

My Little Prince and Tiny Princess

2011-09-08T00:59:00.001-07:00

My son is 7 and my daughter is not even 3 weeks old yet. So needless to say, I have been a busy fellow lately. But last night when I got ten minutes of silence before I went to bed I actually realised how much I missed their noise. The rush of the day, the laughing, the crying… the general busy nature of a day with so much to be done.

At the risk of sounding like every other Father on the planet, my little girl is the most beautiful little girl in the world. She has these tiny little fingers and minuscule little toes. She has my wife’s cute little nose and a way of looking entirely confused when she first wakes up. She has this incredible little smile that makes the 2am, 4am and 5:30am wake up calls all perfectly ok. Because sleep isn’t anywhere near as satisfying at watching her smile at me.

From the very first second I held her, I knew I would give anything for her happiness.

She’s developing this little personality. Personally, I think she’s going to be absolutely hilarious, charming, intelligent and utterly creative. But I would say that, wouldn’t I?

Honestly, I don’t wish for personality traits as much as I wish for her to just be happy. I don’t want that little tiny smile to disappear ever.

My boy is a little Gentleman in the making. He has so many characteristics that people say are so much like mine. At 7, he’s into pretty much what every little boy is into – football, climbing trees, running around, video games… But he’s also got an abundance of hobbies that few of his friends have. He loves to write. He’s been a keen writer of rhymes for a couple of years now and more recently has taken to writing little stories to tell his new baby sister.

He’s not always had it easy. I didn’t know he existed until he was four. At the time he was living in Russia with his Mother (a wonderful, beautiful and intelligent Russian woman I had a relationship with while I was at University). Naturally, when I found out about him and it was confirmed that he was indeed mine (the tests only put on paper what I knew the second I laid my eyes on the boy), I wanted to see more of him. His Mother agreed to come and live in the UK and he and I developed an amazing relationship, his English progressed to native level quickly (it’s so easy for them so young). Unfortunately, almost 2 years ago now, his Mother lost her life. That’s a tough shout for a little boy of 5 to deal with and he suffered terribly.

But what came out the other side was a boy with a real sense of gratitude for life, an appreciation of the good things life has to offer him and a truly remarkable way of handling grief.

He’s a Gentleman, he’s so smart and he’s really rather witty. Cheeky, at times, but aren’t all little boys?

Right now, my son is starting his lessons at school. My Daughter is asleep (though probably not for long) and the place is quiet.

Too quiet.

The chaos is, of course, chaotic. But the silence is just a period of waiting for the chaos to begin again. Because that’s our life and we all love it xx

What is Love?

2011-08-17T15:20:00.000-07:00

I can’t believe I just called a blog post that. What a clichéd title. But this was the question that greeted me at bedtime tonight. Well, it was one of a few, as I tucked my son into bed.

HIM: When’s the baby coming?

ME: Soon, I’m sure.

HIM: I thought she was coming today?

ME: She was due today. But babies don’t always make it on time.

HIM: Isn’t she going to be getting too big for Chloe’s tummy soon?

ME: Well, she would if she stayed there forever!

HIM: So why don’t you just go to the hospital and ask them to take her out?

ME: The baby has to let us know when she’s ready.

HIM: How does she do that?

ME: Well…

HIM: Will she knock on Chloe’s tummy?

ME: Yes!

HIM: Hmmm. Ok. Well, I hope she hurries up.

ME: Me too. Ready for lights out?

HIM: Yes.

I go to turn the light out.

HIM: Wait… one more thing.

ME: Ok…

HIM: What’s love?

ME: What do you mean?

HIM: What is love?

ME: Well… it’s that feeling you get when you really, really care a lot about someone. And there’s different kinds of love. Like there’s the way that you love your son or your daughter, the way you love your friends and the way you love your girlfriend of boyfriend.

HIM: I know that, Dad. I am 7, you know.

ME: Ok…. Silly me. Then what are you asking me?

HIM: What is it made of?

ME: Wow. Ummm. Want to know the truth?

HIM: Yep

ME: Think you can handle it?

HIM: Yep

ME: I don’t know what it’s made of.

HIM: You don’t?

ME: Nobody does, really. We just know how it feels. We never get to actually see it or touch it or see what it’s made of.

HIM: Wow. Never?

ME: No. Never.

HIM: So when you love a girlfriend is it made of a different sort of love than when you love your friends?

ME: Well, we never know what any kind of love is made out of…. We just know how it feels. And it feels different, yes.

HIM: Do you love me?

ME: More than anything in the whole wide world.

HIM: I know that (laughs).

ME: Do you love me?

HIM: Yes I love you more than tennis.

ME: Wow! That’s huuuuge.

HIM: Yep.

ME: I don’t know what the love I have for you is made of. But I know how it feels…

HIM: How? (cheeky smile… he knows compliments are heading is way)

ME: Well, it feels happy. It feels like you’re always with me even when you’re at school. And I know for sure I love you because I’d do anything to protect you and I’d do anything to make you smile.

HIM: Can I have an iPhone?

ME: I wouldn’t do that to make you smile.

HIM: Aww.

ME: Nice try, though.

HIM: Do you know how I know I love you?

ME: How?

HIM: Because the saddest thing in the whole world would be if you weren’t here anymore.

ME: Don’t think about sad things, kiddo.

HIM: I know and I’m happy too. But I just wanted to tell you how I know.

ME: I know. And it would be the saddest thing for me too. But I told you. You’re stuck with me. I’m going to follow you around even when you’ve got girlfriends… and then I’m going to come to university with you and I’m gonna be so totally uncool… and I’m going to tell all your girlfriends about…

HIM: Dad?

ME: Yeh?

HIM: You’re crazy….

And perhaps that is the most apt explanation of love I’ve ever heard… particularly from one so young – knowing that something is so special to you that life without them would be the most terrible thing you could imagine in your personal life.

And I’m sure we all know that feeling or have known that feeling once in our lives….

I Spy

2011-08-17T05:23:00.000-07:00

For all the women I've loved and lost... not just romantically, but the friends and family too. For those whose lives simply took another direction and for those too whose lives are no longer lived in this world.

I spy, through the tears that I’ve cried,
Something beginning with ‘end.’
Like goodbyes to a friend
I just wish I’d held tight
And the sunset that marks
The start of the night
And the end of the day
And the end of the way
That we were.

I miss her.

And I spy, through the darkest of nights
A glimmer of hope that it might be alright.
That the pain will diminish,
That nothing is finished
And perhaps,
That it’s all just begun.

No Sign

2011-08-17T05:21:00.001-07:00

No sign of our baby girl yet.

It looks as though she may be fashionably late.

Well, it would never do for a Princess to turn up right on time now, would it?

Random Song....

2011-08-15T14:12:00.000-07:00

A beautiful version of a beautiful song.

2 Days

2011-08-15T04:36:00.001-07:00

She’s due in 2 days. Just 2 days. 48 hours. And I’ve run through a really long list of things I need (and probably some I don’t) fifteen time overs the last week to check, double check and check again that we definitely have everything.

‘Relax,’ my sister keeps telling me. ‘You’ll buy all that stuff and realise you don’t use half of it anyway! It will be fine.’

What is perhaps more impressive is how calm Chloe is.

‘She’ll probably be late,’ she keeps telling… ‘Just like her Daddy.’

I can’t concentrate at work and I think that by the seventh time I had called Chloe at home to make sure there are ‘no signs’ yet, she was getting bored of the sound of my voice.

We agreed that I should not take any time off until the baby is actually born… mostly so that I can enjoy 2 weeks with my new beautiful little girl rather than a week before and only getting a week after. But now I am starting to think there’s little point in me being in the office anyway as I am getting so little done.

I wonder if she’ll have hair. And how much of it. And how tiny her fingers and toes will be and whether she will look like Chloe or me…. And whether she will have features that remind me of my Mother or my sister and whether she will suit any of the names we’ve been debating over for the last few weeks.

But honestly, I don’t care whether she has hair or not… or how loud she cries in the night or how many times we’re woken up in the middle of the night over the next however many years. I just want her here and healthy.

My little Princess, Daddy and your big bro can’t wait to meet you xx

Brinda Allen - On First Life, Second Life and Death

2011-08-11T07:12:00.000-07:00

I’m incredibly saddened to hear of the death of Brinda Allen – second life resident, fountain of all knowledge and a simply wonderful lady.

She left many an insightful comment both here and on Pixel Scoop.

Brinda Allen on Life (First and Second) and Death

At 68 I’m a little older than most… I retired from a rather successful career nearly two years after I came to secondlife. Today I rarely mention Secondlife to anyone… it’s much too difficult to explain.
Kinda like sex…you can read about it all day long and not understand what its about. =^..^= http://pixelscoop.net/2010/09/second-life-article/

“I come to Secondlife to communicate with people, no other possible venue would allow me the instant intimate connection available here with incredible people from all over the world.” http://pixelscoop.net/2010/10/why-are-you-in-sl-residents-speak/

The magic is... She's your little girl =^..^=
She will adore you until she's about 13.
She will hate you until she's about 17.
She will be the one that you will always be able to count on as long as you live. http://realworldranting.blogspot.com/2011/04/little-girl.html

"Inteligence demands intelligence..
Respect demands respect...
And some folks you just have to leave where you found them 'cause you can't carry everyone with you." http://realworldranting.blogspot.com/2011/03/guardian-mum.html

Josue... I'm saddened by the pain of your perceived loss. I say perceived because your friend isn't really gone. She had done all she was supposed to do in this life.
Ram Dass had said to his mother as she lay dying that It's like watching a friend in a burning house...the house will be consumed but we will go on forever. http://realworldranting.blogspot.com/2010/11/loss.html

What an incredibly wise soul.

Wherever the next place may be, Brinda, may you rest there in Peace.

Have Faith in Love

2011-08-10T13:22:00.001-07:00

I know you and I see you
When you think that others don’t.

I think of you and get you
When you think that others won’t.

Do not hide your heart, my love,
Be not afraid to show it.

Real love, I swear, it does exist.
And we two, yes we know it.

A Quick Thought on Riots...

2011-08-10T12:27:00.001-07:00

I’ve been shocked and saddened by the mass rioting in the UK... obviously in particular here in Manchester. As I left the office at 6:30pm yesterday I was absolutely appalled to see children and teenagers breaking into shops and looting.

This is NOT a political riot. It’s an excuse for delinquent and uncontrolled youths (for the most part) to steal and terrorise.

Perhaps the most concerning thing for me was how young some of these kids were. Some looked only a couple of years older than my 7 year old son. Why were they not at home, safe and having dinner with their families?

I completely disagree with the sentiment that ‘Britain is broken.’ This was a minority of thugs. The community clear ups that followed today were proof of that. I also completely disagree with ‘sympathisers’ who blame these yobs’ behaviour on the fact they are socially excluded and without opportunities.
Opportunity does not just turn up on your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, you know. You have to work for it. And you can start by going to school, learning a little respect and getting a decent education. How dare they blame society or the Government for their own pathetic lack of morals?

Manchester will not be broken by delinquent little trouble causers.

Tanya Davis - Subtlety

2011-08-07T11:16:00.000-07:00

I first came across Tanya Davis when someone shared a spoken word piece on Youtube called 'How to be Alone.' Today, I've been browsing some of her other work on Youtube.

What a talented lady.

She's Never Really Gone

2011-08-05T14:53:00.001-07:00

Son,

She’s never really gone. She’s the waking thought that dances gracefully across your mind each morning. She’s the sweetest dreams that bless your sleep. She’s in the words you speak, the faces you make, the things that you do and in everything you will become.

She’s never really gone, son. She’s just a little out of reach. But if you close your eyes and open your heart, you’ll feel here there. You’ll feel her hand on your shoulder, nudging you gently forwards and encouraging, ‘Go on…. Don’t look back.’

You’ll never forget her, son, because she’s never really gone. She’s in you. She’s in your smile, your nose, your chin… she’s in the way you scrunch up your forehead when you’re trying to think of a comeback smart enough that you will leave me sufficiently tongue tied to get your own way.

She’s in the way you care about everyone and everything, both real and fictional. She’s in the way that you thought it absolutely terrible that Dobby wasn’t given a special mention in the closing scenes of the final Harry Potter film. She’s in the way that you gave up one of your favourite soft toys because Charlie the cockerspaniel had become attached to it: ‘He’s only a baby. He doesn’t understand if we take it away. I’m a big boy now so I don’t need teddies.’ She’s in the way you want to bring home every single homeless person we pass in the street, ‘just for a bit of dinner.’

She’s never really gone, son. Because part of her is you.

And you’ll never, ever, ever, ever have to question how much she loved you,

I’m so proud of you,

Love Dad xx

Perfectly Imperfect

2011-08-05T05:48:00.000-07:00

Some of my faults

- I look but I don’t always see

- I listen but don’t always hear

- I’m never wrong, especially when I really am

- I cannot back down

- I struggle to let people in

- I struggle to let go of the past

- I hold grudges

- I’m arrogant

- I am a workaholic

Nobody is perfect. But I spent a good many years trying to be and punishing myself for not being and then projecting an image of myself that wasn’t even real just so that maybe some people might think I was perfect.

But perfection does not exist. But I’m glad it doesn’t!

In fact, compatibility isn’t just about finding good things that you like in people. It’s about finding flaws that complement your own and that give people real character and personality.

I’m not a perfect Brother, I was never a perfect son, I’m not a perfect husband, I’m not a perfect friend and I am not a perfect Father.

But I love being a husband, father, brother and friend enough that I will always try my utmost to be as close to it as I possibly can be. I loved being a son enough too that whenever I fucked up (believe me, it happened a lot) I would always try and fix it and learn from it. And no matter what mistakes I made and the flaws I had I always, always, always had unquestioned respect for my Mother.

There have been two times in my entire life where, romantically, I have quickly felt: ‘this is it. This is what the poets write about.’ Twice. And in one of those cases, I was lucky enough to make that woman my wife.

But the point is, that5 indescribable magical feeling of love isn’t just down to the person with whom you fall in love. It’s about compatibility between the two of you. It’s about a fit that creates this little spark that just sets your being on fire. And that’s not just down to their positive attributes. It’s about their characteristics, both good and bad, fit with yours… like bits of a jigsaw. If someone can fill your flaws with an attribute that fits and vice versa, then you get this sense of completion. Like everything is right. This is right. This is what I have waited for and longed for and wanted.

Twice. I’ve felt it twice. And it is an incredible, incredible feeling.

But I have never been in love with anyone who thinks themselves perfect or is close to perfect. Only with people who are perfect for me.

We live in a world obsessed by perfection. Magazines photoshop models in case there’s a blemish. Kids are pushed to do better and better and better.... it's all about the perfect house, the perfect family, the perfect job.

Why?

We’re human. And nothing about humanity is perfect. Welcome to Earth, folks. Flaws are acceptable.

Happy Birthday, Amy xx

2011-08-01T14:29:00.000-07:00

If I were given one more moment,
Just to spend with you,
I wouldn’t say a single word,
But here is what I’d do.

I wouldn’t waste that precious time
On words you’ve heard before,
I wouldn’t pass a second saying
Things I know you know.

I’d wrap my arms around you
And I’d pull you in so near,
And hold you tight enough so fate
Would know we need you here.

And hope against all hope, perhaps,
That you could stay a while.
For life is not as sweet, my friend,
Without your stunning smile.

Happy birthday, Amy.
                        Missed terribly,
                                   Longed for lovingly,
                                           And only ever a thought away xxxxx

What on Earth is so Entertaining About Second Life?

2011-07-19T13:37:00.000-07:00

I got into a discussion earlier with someone about Second Life. I mentioned the fact that I used to spend a lot of time in the virtual world and they asked the question:

"What on Earth could be so entertaining about Second Life?"

I found a video that sums it up perfectly - fun, community, creativity.

Don't Walk into the Apocalypse

2011-07-19T07:21:00.000-07:00

Sometimes someone saves you from yourself... and a couple of years ago, someone did just that for me.

Thank you x

The clouds were twisting into a

threatening labyrinth of storms.

The world was on fire

And buildings that once housed

Love, family, prosperity, success

Were a mangled mess of rubble.

All that was beautiful was crushed.

And all that was warm was frozen

And I watched as the world

Began to end.

I sat cross legged on the hilltop,

Acidic tears carving rivers of fire

Into my cheeks

And I listened as children shrieked,

As women cried,

As men crumbled and roared fierce

Fear into the mouth of an apocalypse

That would show no mercy.

I stood and took my first steps

Down that hill.

The fire raged hotter each step.

The screams became louder,

The storm more violent

As friends turned their backs

On one another

In favour of a few more minutes to live.

“Don’t walk into the apocalypse,”

She whispered into my ear.

“Stop before you get any closer.”

But I walked and I walked

Until the flames were uncomfortably close

Until the heat forced tears from me

And until I was treading over

Those who’d perished first.

“Don’t walk into the apocalypse,”

She begged of me.

“Don’t walk into the apocalypse.”

Space

2011-07-10T16:20:00.001-07:00

A poem from a year ago.... taken from the archives.

We lie awake at night and cry

Beneath the same star spattered sky.

I cannot see her, cannot hear her

Cannot bear to not be near her.

But space, she says, the only way

To heal a heart, send pain away.

And so I must my distance keep

And pray she sees me in her sleep.

A Letter to my Broken Hearted Boy

2011-06-23T06:21:00.000-07:00

I was moving a lot of files from a laptop onto my new Macbook last night and came across a letter I wrote to my son just before Christmas 2009, very soon after the death of his Mother.

It put a lump in my throat to reread it. But I’m publishing it here because I think ultimately it has a happy ending (given how happy he is now).

How 18 months can change things, eh?

Son,

You woke in the night again last night after having bad dreams. You were terrified and shaking but couldn’t communicate what you were scared of.

I think you’re scared of her absence. I think you’re terrified of the emptiness of that hole she left in your heart. I know that because I’ve been there. I’ve felt that. And as much as it hurt, as debilitating as that was, I would do it all over again if I could take that feeling away from you, son.

You’re such a clever lad, so bright, so intelligent. But no child of your age has the emotional intelligence to process this type of trauma and I see how much it frustrates you to not be able to communicate what’s wrong.

5 years old (should that be 5 years, 11 months and 18 days?) and you’ve already experienced something that even people in adulthood are often unable to process. So I know such words as those I am about to say will seem empty when I repeat them to you… but one day they will make sense.

This is what I promise you, son. I promise you that one day this will hurt you less. I promise you that one day the nightmares will stop and you’ll find a way to smile again.

I also promise you that you will never forget her, that we will never stop thinking of her and that we will always, always cherish her memory. You will never stop missing her, son. You’ll think of her every birthday, every Christmas, every Mother’s Day and on random days too. You’ll see people in the street who remind you of her and have to stop yourself from approaching them. You’ll swear to yourself sometimes that you can hear her voice whispering into your ear. Every single time you bring a good report home from school we’ll both be thinking that we wish she were around to see it.

But I promise you that the agony you are feeling right now will not last forever, son. I promise. Your heart is broken into a thousand pieces. But let’s pick up the pieces and put them back together again. I’ll help you find the pieces and together we can start repairing the damage. It’s not a quick fix, I know. But I’ll be right with you every single step of the way, son, holding your hand. And on those days you just don’t feel as though you can take a single step, I’ll carry you.

I know I will never be her and I know I can never bring her back, but I promise you that you’ll be happy again one day. And you will never, ever, ever have to question how much you are loved or how secure you are.

I’ll keep you safe and love you with every ounce of my being. Not just for you and for me… but for her as well.

Things will get better.

I love you, son.

Happy Father's Day

2011-06-19T14:55:00.001-07:00

I was treated to cake today, baked by a seven year old who then iced it with footballs and the word ‘Dad.’ My Father’s day card had two names on it. My son’s name and ‘Bumpette.’ That’s the interim name for our little girl until we finally decide what she will be called.

I shouldn’t forget to mention that I got a second Father’s day card from our two dogs (thank you Chloe!).

It was wonderful to enjoy a quiet day with my family… and the ‘Dad Appreciation’ was incredible too. So thank you to my beautiful family.

As they sleep now, my mind wanders to my own Father. There have been 24 Father’s Days that have passed since he passed away. However, it’s only since I became a Father myself that I have really understood what the hollow feeling on this day each year actually is.

My Mother used to tell me I was a lot like my Father in character though I was too young when we lost him to really know which elements of my character she meant.

I don’t remember much about him, to be honest. But what I do know is that he stole my Mother’s heart. I know that she never, ever, ever stopped loving him and that when she was at her sickest, what kept her smiling was a genuine belief that she would be reunited with him soon.

So I truly believe he must have been one hell of a fellow to convince her to move from her native Argentina to the cold, damp UK, to leave her family and to start all over again with him thousands of miles from everyone and everything she knew. My Mother was a tough cookie to crumble. If he were able to gain her love as he did, he must have been a phenomenal guy.

My Father died before I was old enough to have enjoyed a first football match with him (but I do remember his Manchester City shirt collection and have very vague memories of singing City songs with him as a young child). I was never able to introduce my first girlfriend to him or share exam results with him. But I was assured by my Mother that he would be proud. That’s reassuring.

So to my Father, my Mother’s soul mate, the man whose presence seemed prevalent in our household long after his physical being had left…. Happy Father’s Day.

Where Poetry Education Goes Wrong

2011-06-18T16:02:00.000-07:00

My son loves poetry. He’s 7.

He doesn’t care much for Shakespeare, Ted Hughes or Wordsworth though.

He loves poetry as the art form he has come to know it. I love his love of words. It’s something he and I have in common. I encouraged him to start writing poems as a very, very young child. And recently at school he has started to encounter the UK education system’s idea of ‘poetry.’

This would be great…. Except for the fact that the way poetry Is taught to children in the UK is, as far as I am concerned, substandard.

“What’s a syllable again?” he asked.

I explained.

He then went on to explain that a poem he had written over a year ago (a poem, randomly about the CN tower), wasn’t ‘quite right.’

I love the poem he wrote. But suddenly he is obsessed with rhyme, rhythm and meter. His poems naturally had good meter, to be honest. Particularly for a child of his age. But as soon as the education system is involved, my son’s free expression is suppressed by the need to tap out syllables on a table and ensure they fit with rules written on a chalkboard in a classroom.

Let me clarify something. I do believe children should be educated in the classics and that they should learn certain styles of poetry. But I think the education system misses the point:-

Poetry is about expression. It’s about taking something you feel, something you see or something you imagine and about putting it into words and organising those words in a way that people want to read them.

I think that children should be encouraged to express first… many, many years before they have to start tapping out syllables on tables and looking up synonyms in dictionaries because they ‘already used that word once a few lines ago.’

I love poetry. But, much like my son, I would not call myself a fan of Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Ted Hughes or Carol Ann Duffy. The existing UK education syllabus does not throw up anything that would have inspired me as a child nor inspires me now (albeit that in my twenties I have come to like one or two Duffy pieces).

I love Neruda’s work with a passion. Not because of his rhyme, rhythm, meter or structure. But because of his ability to take a feeling and enable someone to recreate it for themselves using only letters organised into words, organised into sentences of sheer emotional brilliance.

Poetry should be about expression…. About making an emotion or an imagined image transferrable using only words.

My son will retain his passion for poetic expression, I am certain of it . Unfortunately, I just don’t feel that the education system does much to further that. I think much of his passion for words will, at least for the next few years, be born of our poetry nights at home and outside of school.

Good Morning

2011-06-14T14:10:00.001-07:00

The sun sneaks through a crack in the curtains before 5am. I wake up, check the time and roll over sighing. Late enough that I probably won’t get back to sleep. Early enough that I will be exhausted before 6 tonight.

And then I see you… dribbling on the pillow (sorry, babe!) with the corners of your mouth slightly upturned in a sleeping smile. I brush the hair back from in front of your face so I can look at you. Peaceful. I rest my hand on your stomach to see if I can feel her kicking. Most mornings she’s still but nonetheless, I like to check.

I wake you. Unintentionally. But you’re not mad. Instead you smile I lay on my back and invite you to rest your head on my chest.

“Good morning, handsome,” you say.

“Good morning,” I respond.

We lie back and we enjoy a silent hour’s snoozing…. Because we know it won’t be long until we’re joined in bed by two crazy little dogs and a seven year old boy.

But we wouldn’t have it any other way.

They Say...

2011-06-13T12:21:00.000-07:00

Clichés. The world is full of them and I dislike them for more than just the fact they are overused (and yet have a massively irritating way of creeping into my writing and my mind). I also dislike them because, frankly, they’re not always true. In fact… the people who wander around my thoughts during the day prove many of them entirely inaccurate:

Blood is Thicker than Water

They say blood is thicker than water… in some way trying to devalue ties not born of DNA. But when I look at him and her, when I watch her cuddle him to sleep, listen to her read him stories, listen to him recall his day to her as they sit gazing out of the window, I know that biology is the smallest part of the equation of parental love.

Blood may be thicker than water – but it is not thicker than love. Blood stains, but it doesn’t stick around as long as an unconditional and eternal love for someone.

DNA won’t keep him warm at night. Genes won’t keep him feeling safe. Love will do that.

All’s Fair in Love and War

They say that all is fair in love and war. Tell that to the orphan weeping over the bloodied corpse of his Father – a man murdered by weapons far bigger than he, fired for reasons far bigger than he can comprehend. A war was waged against the men in power but that wipes out the men on the street.

They say that all is fair in love and war. Tell that to those who lost a love, whose heart never recovered and who were never quite able to fully give their heart to another.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So perhaps, then, they haven’t read hers. Because the prettiest pictures are penned using just 26 different letters and raw emotion. They choose her, the words. She doesn’t necessarily choose them. I know that. I see that. I feel that. Yet those pictures penned of vowels and consonants, free of paint, free of oils, free of pastels, chalks and pencil lines, they create some of the finest art you will ever see.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So perhaps then, they haven’t read hers.

All’s Well that Ends Well

They say that all’s well that ends well. But just because loose ends were tied up doesn’t mean the knots were ever removed from the middle. Picking up the smashed pieces doesn’t put them back together again.

A happy ending is indeed desirable. But sometimes so much has been damaged during the event that all you can do is look forward… clean up what you can and leave what was to weather away.

Lightening Never Strikes Twice in the Same Place

It does. Or sometimes three times. Or sometimes even four times.

All you can do is douse the flames, repaint and carry on.

Looking Forwards

2011-06-12T10:58:00.001-07:00

There’s so much here to gain,

That tonight I stand and choose,

To love and learn and live again,

Not fear what I may lose.

We spend so much of our lives worrying about what we might lose. Well, ok, I do. Too many years of looking backwards in self-pity at a shitty deal that saw me lose a Father at 5 and a Mother in my early 20s… too many years of doing that led to a real sense of bitterness and “oh aren’t I hard done by?”

At the risk of sounding like a whiney ass here, it does seem like bad luck… just as I was getting over my parents, I lost the Mother of my son and little over a year on, one of my closest friends.

Losing the Mother of my son set me back. Majorly. I did the whole push the world out thing and used those closest to me as verbal whipping posts, venting my fury with some nasty, toxic words.

But I’ve learnt, in the past year, the art of looking forwards, rather than gazing backwards and looking longingly for familiar faces I can no longer see.

When I got married last month, I promised my wife I would only ever look forwards – forwards at the amazing life we have built for ourselves.

She made a good point;

“You won’t always look forwards. Everybody looks back from time to time. I just need you to promise me you will let me in and tell me how you’re feeling.”

She’s right. There will probably always be days I think about those I can’t touch or hear anymore. But she just needs to know about it…. And I just need to make sure that the odd glance back does not consume my thoughts. I have too much to look forward to.

My daughter will be born in 3 months.

Oh my God… how terrifying is that? And awesome at the same time!

My son is the happiest he has ever been. He’s taking the joy out of every single day. His wounds have healed. They scarred… but they don’t hurt anymore. In fact, most days he hardly notices they’re there. On some days they tingle, but he handles it well.

He misses his Mother terribly. But he, the fine example that he is, has picked the pieces up and is trudging on with his life and enjoying every single moment of it. He’s an inspiration of a little boy. In fact, right now he is with my Sister and nephew outside jumping in puddles. That’s really all they are doing. We bought him some new wellies when we moved out of the city and he’s been waiting for a weekend as rainy as this one has been to just go out jumping in puddles. Forget Playstations, Wiis, TV and all that material crap… he’s happiest playing in puddles. Just how it should be, right?

Humans are resilient when they choose to be. We’re not as fragile as we sometimes allow ourselves to think we are.

Anyhow, that’s enough of the deep thinking for me for one day. I’m off to jump in puddles too…

Words

2011-06-07T15:07:00.001-07:00

Wrongs and rights
Are lost in fights
Where words become
Our weapons.

Words now penned,
It’s best to spend
This venom
While alone.

No more will I
Spit words in spite.
Stoop to defensive level,
Take such a gift
As that of words
And use it as the devil.

Adorned in White

2011-06-06T13:20:00.000-07:00

Emerging adorned in the purest white
To take the sting from the fiercest night.
She who sang my heart away
To dream filled sleep in my childhood days,
Now fills my dreams, by the river
Adorned in white, angelic figure.

Whisper away the dark and pain,
And sing a song to clear the rain.

Angel of the night.

My Wife

2011-06-02T06:06:00.000-07:00

Joined, we two, in love,

By choice.

Two bodies, hearts and souls,

One voice.

Singing from the same

Song sheet,

Joined, in love, we can

Defeat

Most anything that comes

Our way

Come rain, or storms,

My heart will stay

My love, my smile, my joy

My life

My raison d’etre, friend,

And wife.

The Angel and the Broken Hearted Man

2011-05-21T12:11:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, was a man with a heart so broken that he was unable to believe in the “epic love.” He would not allow anyone to see the whole of his heart for fear that if they saw the cracks, the scratches and the bruises, perhaps they would flee.

Nobody wants to deal with the scarred, after all.

And so his relationships were shallow. They rarely advanced beyond the physical and he would not connect on a matters-of-the-heart level with anyone. Ever.

Until he met her.

She, the Angel who knew more of matters of the heart than anyone else he had ever met. He proceeded with caution. Everything within told him it was too dangerous to go too far beyond a ‘hello,’ or a ‘hi there,’ from time to time. But, unusually, he was guided by his battered heart and his head took a back seat.

The Angel was already spoken for, however. This was a health boundary, he felt. This made it safe to befriend the Angel.

One weekend, as he prepared for a trip, the Angel got in touch. Unusually, she was saddened. He of heart so broken recognised the symptoms immediately. Her heart was aching. He wanted to stay with her and hold her more than he had ever wanted to comfort anyone before but could not. His other commitments made that impossible.

“I have to go,” he told her, “But I will be back.”

He checked in on her as many times as he could over the weekend. Her heart was still aching. He knew that. But he had a funny feeling that it ached less when they were together. And funnily enough, his own battered heart ached less when he was with her too.

The man of battered heart and the Angel began a relationship that was, by any standard, beautiful. They connected on every level and explored emotions within one another that neither had even realised they possessed.

It was almost perfect.

But the broken hearted man was holding back. He was only showing her the good parts of his heart. True, though it was, that the longer he spent around the Angel, the more his heart healed and he then had more of the good parts to share and show. But he kept dark secrets about just how badly bruised the broken bits were and for fear that she would see the cracks and run from him, he told her not of the bruises he hid.

Many months into their beautiful journey, the battered hearted man lost a friend. A special and close friend. And the loss tore open wounds on his heart that he thought had healed a long time before. Anger raged violently within his heart and suddenly, all of the scars and wounds he did not want the Angel to see were visible. He did not want her to see – and so he raged and pushed her away and removed himself emotionally from her.

The Angel was hurt. She tried to find a way back into him but the harder she tried, the more the broken hearted man pushed her away. His heart was still too raw to let her in again.

He lost the Angel. He lost her friendship too. But as he came to terms with that, the lessons he learned through the pain of her loss helped to heal his heart a little. And a little more.

The battered hearted man and the Angel no longer spoke. But he thought of her and hoped that she was happy, wherever she was and whoever she was with.

The broken hearted man met a beautiful woman some time after the loss. He fell in love and married her... He takes the lessons from his previous loss and knows now not to hide wounds of the heart. His wife sees the scars. He does not push people away anymore.

He still thinks of the Angel. He still gratefully looks back upon the lessons their time together taught him and he no longer angrily denies any feelings he once had for her.

The battered hearted man is no longer a battered hearted man. He carries scars, yes. But he does not hide them. He’s happy, a family man whose real satisfaction in life comes from the simple things. He’s dealt with his regrets and wishes now only one thing: That the Angel too finds her happily ever after.

Because if anyone deserves it, she does.

To Be Married

2011-05-03T11:37:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow morning I will fly out to Cuba with my wife to be, our son, our friends and families. In a few days I will be married and our friends and family will fly back to let us enjoy a honeymoon on the beautiful island.

I’ve never been as excited about anything in my life. Nor has our little boy, who has been staring at his Pageboy outfit asking if he can try it on again for about a week.

Thank you to all who have sent messages here, through email and through Second Life wishing me the best. I really do appreciate it.

I’ll be back in a couple of weeks as a married man : )

For She

2011-04-28T06:04:00.000-07:00

For she who means so much to me,
I give her my eternity.
An everlasting promise made
To love her each and every day.

For she who found the best of me
I give her my eternity,
My love, respect and honesty,
My life, my soul, my loyalty.

That every day I live and breathe,
I'll keep her close and she will see,
In every single thing I do,
The love I hold for her is true.

I never knew I was capable of loving someone like this....

Mum

2011-04-26T04:08:00.001-07:00

Mum,

I won't cry for you on the big day. It's not my tears you want - it's my smiles. It's happiness. It's strength.

I could cry though. I could cry because the grief still wells up inside and the lump still sits in my throat and I could cry for the moments you have missed.

But you wouldn't want that.

Instead, I will imagine you there. I will imagine you enjoying picking out the wedding hat you so longed to shop for and I will imagine you sitting proudly, admiring my beautiful bride's dress and shedding your own tears of happiness as I commit my life to her.

I will imagine you straightening up my tuxedo and telling me to stand up straight, imagine you taking your seat at the head table with a glass of champagne and a twinkle in your eye - imagine you telling embarrassing tales of my childhood to Chloe's parents.

She reminds me of you, Chloe. That might sound weird... but she does. She has your strength of character and your resolute determination to do the right thing. There are some things she says to our son that are pretty much exactly things you said to me when I was growing up. He looks her the way I looked at you - with utmost love and admiration - most of the time at least.

I wish, more than anything in this world, that you were around to share the special day. Your presence would complete it.

Even though you can't be there physically though, you are there in my heart, you're then in my head and you are there in everything I do and say.

You were always right about me, Mum... I am a family man.

I love you. I miss you.

Adam x

My Princess

2011-04-22T16:05:00.001-07:00

A baby pink border adorns the wall of the room that will be yours. How that room will change over time... the beautiful innocent baby pink decor may last a few years. And then undoubtedly you will be interested in a cartoon or something at four or five and you will want your room decorated accordingly.

Then that will be “so yesterday,” just a few years down the line and we’ll go for something plainer. Eventually, you will want something to suit your teenage years and that will probably be how your room looks until you go to University.

That room will be the place you laugh, cry... it will be where you talk in private to friends, do homework and listen to me reading bedtime stories to you.

Let me be honest with you, my Princess. I’m terrified. I’ve just learnt how to be a Dad to a little boy. And now I need to learn how to be a Dad to a little girl. I will make mistakes. I will hate your first boyfriend, we’ll fight about it, I will be overprotective and you will probably think that your big Brother gets too much freedom and you not enough. My younger sister always felt like that and she and I are closer in age than you and your brother.

As I said, I will make mistakes. But I promise you I will love you unconditionally and forever. And whatever I do will be done with you in mind. I will protect you, without over sheltering you and I will encourage you to become a strong individual with your own beliefs and your own opinions.

I am so excited. Scared, happy, nervous... ecstatic. Your Mummy and I are so, so grateful for you.

And you will know it... every single day of your life.

For my Wife to Be

2011-04-20T06:54:00.000-07:00

My Dearest Chloe,

The first moment I realised that I was in love with you, you were laughing hysterically at arguably the worst TV show in the history of TV shows and had a dollop of Ben and Jerry's on your nose. It occurred to me in that moment that I wanted to share bad TV shows and messy tubs of Ben and Jerry's with you for as long as you would let me. And I realised in that moment that my feelings for you were irreversible in their entirety and that I was actually rather happy about it.

It was, of course, a couple of months later before I actually said those words to you. Ever cautious, I suppose... ever reluctant to commit.

That was then. And now, in just over two weeks, you will become my wife. You are carrying my baby girl. We're in the process of making you my son's legal Mother. That's not just "commitment." It's the complete integration of our lives, permanently. And it's the most exciting thing that's happened for us.

I fall in love with you every single day. Every time I wake up and start the day seeing your face, I fall in love with you, further than I did the morning before.

I love our three times weekly bike rides, our weekend morning runs, our Wii Fit sessions, our evenings spent cooking together, our board game sessions with our little boy, the quiet half an hour we spend before bed every night.... I love kissing you hello when we both get back home from work... I love our life together.

Chloe, I can't promise you that I won't say stupid things from time to time, that I won't do stupid things, that I won't annoy you. But what I can promise you is this:-

- I will never look at or touch another woman romantically for as long as we live.

- I will consider how every action I take and every word I say will affect you.

- I will love you unconditionally.

- I will always, always respect you.

- I will work hard for you and for our children.

- I will kiss you every single morning.

- I will always tell you how I am feeling.

- I will hide nothing from you.

- I will never stop being amazed by you.

Being with you has made me feel like me again. Being with you has made me smile uncontrollably, laugh out loud and appreciate everything about my life.

I'll never take you for granted, Chloe. I'm not a perfect man (no shit, right? lol) and I will not be a perfect husband. But I will be a good and loyal husband until I draw my last breath.

This is how it's meant to feel...

All my love, until the day I die,

Your husband to be,

Adam xxxx

Sorry

2011-04-15T05:56:00.000-07:00

For the hearts that I’ve broken,

And poison I’ve spoken,

I’m sorry.

It’s an easy word to say, “sorry,” without really meaning it. It’s difficult when you do mean it.

In three weeks, I will be getting married. It’s the biggest commitment I have ever made to anyone, aside from becoming a parent and I am excited. All kinds of excited.

Making a big commitment like that though and changing your life in that way makes you reflect. And reflecting I am indeed doing.

I was afraid of commitment for so long. I was certain marriage would never be for me, that I would never give my life to someone. I was wrong. I was an asshole when I was younger. I presumed that just because me and a girl agreed at the outset that it would not get serious, that feelings would never become involved. And if ever they did, I scarpered.

I was a complete ass. Granted, never intentionally. I was always up front and clear with people that I was not looking for anything serious in my younger days. But it doesn’t make it right... and feelings were hurt. And I’m sorry.

In more recent years, I have been involved in relatively serious relationships that didn’t work out. I shut down, closed people out, pushed people away and showed a side of me in my grief that tore vicious wounds into the hearts of people I loved – not just romantic partners, but also friends and even family.

I have completely changed in the last year and a half. Actually, I wouldn’t say changed. I would say I rediscovered myself, at the risk of sounding insane. For a while I was in a somewhat dark place and it was not just me who suffered. It was everyone around me too.

I say it again, I was an ass.

I’ve been fortunate enough to come out of it. Counselling helped and the people around me giving me a good kicking helped as well. I feel like me again, only now I feel like me with a real plan in life, a really tight family around me and a son (as well as a daughter on the way) who will look to me for guidance. Life not only has purpose now, it has real meaning.

But for every single word I said that hurt anyone, for every single moment I was absent, for every second those I loved tried to reach out to me only to find me unresponsive.... I am sorry.

To Anje, the Mother of my son, I apologise deeply for never telling you when I had the chance, how grateful I am for him.

To Amy, whom I will never, ever, ever go a day without missing, I’m sorry I didn’t make more time for you.

To my Mother... I am sorry it took me long enough to realise what I really want from life, that you weren’t able to be around to see me get it.

I’m sorry.

Lessons learned, knowledge earned.

A Little Girl

2011-04-12T14:33:00.000-07:00

We didn’t go with the intention of finding out. We knew if the baby was lying in an awkward position that we wouldn’t be able to anyway....and Chloe wanted a surprise.

But as we stood gazing at the monitor 19 weeks into the pregnancy and heard the words, “I can tell you if it’s a boy or girl if you’d like,” Chloe’s grip on my hand tightened.

“I want to know.... if you’re ok with that,” she smiled.

I nodded.

“You’re having a little girl.”

Chloe cried tears of joy for the daughter she’s dreamt of having since she was a girl herself. I swallowed a lump in my throat and considered all the teenage boys I will be chasing from my front door 15 years from now. But it was a happy though.

A little girl. A beautiful, tiny, baby girl.

Tonight, we told the family. Even our son was excited, despite initially declaring that he definitely wanted a brother.

“Well... I’ll show her how to play football and then she will be the best girl at football at her school.”

My sister and my in-laws were just delighted.

And now everyone is asleep and I’m sitting pouring thoughts onto a blank Word document with the happiest lump in my throat.

A little girl. All of the names we’d discussed for little girls seem so.... unsuitable.... now that we know it’s a daughter. I wonder why that is.

So it will be back to the drawing board on the names front.

But I love her already. Whatever she’s called, whether she’s tall or short.... whether she likes tennis or not, whether she decides to play musical instruments or otherwise...I love her.

I’m sitting here picturing my little angel, feeling a combination of happy, excited and marginally terrified. I cannot wait.

“My daughter.” Wow.... just wow.

Gifts like this make me believe there may be a God, after all.

I Run to Thee

2011-04-11T05:47:00.001-07:00

I run to thee, you run to me
When storms form in the sky.
My arms will keep you safe, my love,
My coat will keep you dry.
I seek you out, and you seek me,
When sunshine lights the day,
Come dark or light, come good or bad,
Your love shows me the way.

Space

2011-03-31T10:07:00.003-07:00

White space. Down time. Me time. Alone time. Time with my thoughts. Years spent in absolute silence but for the quiet knocking of my friends and family outside the world I built for myself...

“We’re here when you are ready.”

So I’m familiar with white space and down time. More so perhaps than I should be. My down time wasn’t a “healthy,” level. It was an obsessive need to be alone and cut the world out.

How times change. When I feel the need for downtime now, I drop my work and instead of locking myself away and locking the world out, I take my boy out to play football or ride bikes. He’s incredible company and for me, that is my me time now.

More recently, that has involved Chloe too. When I feel stressed or tired or a little under the weather, instead of craving alone time now, I crave quality time... with them. Both of them. Chloe and our son are my world. But there is of course still a need for time alone, albeit much less these days. Everyone needs silence sometimes or just fifteen minutes alone with their thoughts. Time to hear yourself, to listen to the contents of your head without the noise of the world going on around you.

Chloe needed that this week.

Her life has been essentially turned upside down in the past 18 months. She has gone from being someone who lived with her girlfriend of many years, so someone living a newly “straight” lifestyle, got engaged, became a Mother to a seven year old boy and got pregnant (all good things, of course). But even though those are indeed awesome things, it’s a big shift. Her life is so busy now and this week she just craved alone time.

The beautiful thing about that was that less than 24 hours later she came back feeling fresher and happier to see us than ever before.

Do you think sometimes we just have to be alone sometimes to learn to appreciate the people in our lives?

Chloe... take as much space as you need whenever you need it. I’m going nowhere :)

Space

2011-03-31T10:07:00.001-07:00

Suffocated

2011-03-29T14:47:00.000-07:00

"18 months ago I was planning to spend the rest of my life with the woman I had been with since I was a teenager. Now I'm pregnant, engaged to a man and raising his seven year old son. It's just a bit much. I just need a few days."

And so Chloe went to spend a few days with her ex-girlfriend. Ouch. Of course ouch. But she needs down time.

I didn't communicate very well before she left and promised her I wouldn't contact her until weekend.

So just in case you read this before I speak to you... what I meant by my "erm... ok... erm...." [insert awkward silence] was;

"I love you. And I know your life has changed almost beyond recognition. You take your down time, take your white space, take your break.... and know that once you've had a few days to yourself, I'll be here. Waiting. Love you all the same."

xxxx

Drained

2011-03-23T05:02:00.001-07:00

It’s been an insanely busy week.

I’ve been pulling a few late nights this week getting the wheels in motion for some new starters at work. The US version of Google experienced an awesome, awesome update a few weeks ago that means websites that literally just republish crappy content have been penalised. This will be coming to the UK imminently so I have been running all manner of tests in the live version of the algorithm in Google US in recent weeks with awesome results.

My investment in four in house copywriters was a worthwhile one.

I’ve been barking on to my clients about the importance of unique content on their site. “Don’t just pull your product descriptions from the manufacturer’s site.... write your own where possible.” “Say something your competitors are not saying.”

And the latest update has had an awesome impact on the sites of clients who’ve invested the time or money doing that.

So now I’m recruiting more in house copywriters and this has means after hours interviews for the ones who can’t make it during work time and stuff like that.

Add to that the fact that we’ve recently moved house and there’s lots of odd jobs that still need doing in the house and it’s been chaotic.

Tonight I am taking the night off.

I am finishing work at 3, going to collect my son and he, Chloe and I are going for dinner and then going bowling. A night of letting off steam... absolutely essential.

In other news, my sister and her Fiance broke up this week. It’s terribly sad to see her so upset but I think she made a very brave call. If something just doesn’t feel right, it’s the hardest thing in the world to listen to your head over your heart and a brave decision.

Gutted for both of them.... but hey, sis... this will get better.

I always feel drained when I have not had enough family time and the last week or so has definitely left me feeling like that. Tonight will be the perfect therapy.

Is the Sky Blue in Heaven?

2011-03-21T04:02:00.001-07:00

‘Is the sky blue in Heaven?’

An innocent query

From one now so drained,

So emotionally weary.

‘Yes, the sky’s blue in Heaven,

Just as blue as can be,’

I say as he sits,

His head resting on me.

‘Are there stars up in Heaven?’

He asks with a tear.

‘Yes, there’s stars up in Heaven,

The same stars we see here.’

‘Do they shine just as bright?’

‘Yes, they certainly do.

Those stars, they are Angels

Who watch over you.’

‘Is one of them Mum?’

He asks with wide eyes.

‘Absolutely, my son,

The best one in the skies.’

A Letter to a Former Me

2011-03-18T06:33:00.000-07:00

This brief little piece started out a letter... from me, to me. But not to me as I am. To me as I was when I was consumed with anger and grief.

I'm so thankful those times have passed. :)

Tell me.

Tell me why

You want to die,

Why you lie

Wallowing in self-pity,

Sobbing over the shitty

Little existence you

Created for yourself.

Tell me.

Tell me who

Could ever love you

In the unconditional

Way you demand it.

When, underhanded,

You take hearts

And give none back.

Tell me.

Tell me where

You go in there,

Inside your mind,

What do you find

While you sit

Alone.

In the dark.

Wedding Vows

2011-03-10T07:23:00.001-08:00

Kiss me and miss me whenever I’m away,
Hug me and love me and promise me you’ll stay.

I’m in the process of writing wedding vows at the moment. For someone who puts pen to paper so often, this is proving surprisingly difficult. How on Earth can you possibly tell someone using just 26 letters how much you love them?

I won’t put anything I’m drafting on my blog (maybe after the wedding). This post is intended mostly as a brain dump and thoughts on the process in general.

It’s tough. Everything you can think you want to say seems somehow clichéd or not quite good enough. She knows how I feel, not only because I tell her in words every single day but because there is a certain chemistry between us. She knows it because it’s in what I do every single day, it’s in the kisses, the cuddles and baths I run for her after a hard day. It’s in the breakfasts in bed at the weekend and it’s downloading her favourite films for a weekly movie night. It’s finishing work early to surprise her at her office and it’s the quiet moments we reserve for one another when we turn off our electronics and shut the rest of the world out, just to enjoy each other for a silent hour. It’s in the air between us and everything around us.

How can you explain something that is in EVERYTHING using just 26 letters?

And so the wedding vow mission continues....

Happiness Earned

2011-03-06T04:34:00.001-08:00

You know far more than you should know

For your sweet, tender years.

You’ve felt more pain than you should feel,

You’ve cried too many tears.

You’ve said goodbye too many times,

Watched those who love you weep.

You’ve battled with emotions

And you’ve cried yourself to sleep.

But here you are, my brown eyed boy,

Emerging from the seas,

Embracing life, a child again,

Just as this life should be.

And as we watch you rise again,

And learn to be a child,

I know she watches just as close,

With proud and beaming smile.

So fear not, my son, your happiness.

It’s earned, do not feel bad.

For though she’s gone, we know for one,

She'd hate you to be sad.

That Makes Two of Us

2011-03-06T04:26:00.001-08:00

Weathered by the years,

The tears and the fears

But babe, that makes two of us.

We arrive at this station

Misshapen, weary and worn,

But babe, that makes two of us.

You’re not in this alone.

A Guardian Mum

2011-03-01T10:03:00.001-08:00

Chloe was called a “substitute Mum,” the other day by a former friend of hers who is now incredibly critical of the role she plays in my son’s life.

“You’re just a substitute Mum and when he’s old enough he will resent you because his own Mother is dead,” she said of my son to her.

Chloe was incredibly upset.

This is the woman who gives up every free hour of every single day she has to make him happy, to make him smile, to entertain him and educate him. This is the woman whose arms he falls into when he just needs a cuddle or who sits with me as I answer questions he has. This is the woman who offers him all the support a Mother ever could. This is the woman who loves him as though he were her own flesh and blood, who would, without a second’s consideration, give her life for him. So it’s no wonder she was upset, right?

But the so called friend continued anyway:

“When you have your own baby, you’ll realise you don’t even really love the kid.”

That was the final straw for Chloe. She left and has no intention of seeing that former friend again.

Negativity seems to surround people who cannot just be happy for someone. Granted – she is not his biological Mother. Granted, she has not been in his life since he was a baby. Granted, the boy misses his biological Mother unbearably.

But who does he go to when he’s upset about it? Or when he’s had bad dreams about losing his Mum? Or when he wakes up in the middle of the night still looking for her?

He comes to me or to Chloe. He seems reassurance in her arms. He seeks comfort from her.

He calls her ‘Mum,’ not because we made him – but because it felt right to him. We didn’t even broach the topic with him. It was him – he decided that she felt enough like a Mother to him that he was going to reward her with that name.

They talk openly about Anje and how her death changed us. They speak together, Chloe and our boy, about that sad time and he is open about the fact he knows Chloe’s not his “first Mum.”

“I know she’s not my first Mum,” he told his teacher when, to my annoyance, he was questioned about referring to her as Mum. “But she does all the things that Mums do and I do all the things with her I did with my Mum so she’s like my guardian Mum.” His teacher told me he said that (cue my annoyance at him being questioned in the first place).

‘Guardian Mum.’ I like it though.

I asked him about that and he told me it’s

“A bit like a guardian Angel because Chloe came to look after me like a Mum when my first Mum had to go away.”

So to my darling Chloe.... his Guardian Mum, my beautiful wife to be.... don’t let negativity spoil that beautiful smile. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me and to him in a very long time. And it just fits. We all just fit perfectly... you, me, him and that space left for our new arrival. We work well together, our strengths and flaws complement one another. And you, my love, are stuck with me.

A Week of Learning

2011-02-26T07:08:00.000-08:00

I had an amazing (albeit hectic) week this week.

On Monday evening, I went to London for a SEO convention (SES). I was there for the three main days Tues, Weds and Thurs and then I also stayed around for the Friday online marketing summit.

What an educational experience that was! I felt like my head was going to explode with all the information – in a good way though!

The only downside was just how much I missed my little boy and my beautiful Chloe. It was really difficult being away from the two of them all week. I spent a few hours on the phone each night but it was, of course, not the same.

I’ve never really experienced that feeling – missing someone (romantically) like I missed Chloe this week. Sure, I’ve missed people, but I’ve never been in a position before where waking up without someone feels like waking up without a limb. It’s painful – but equally beautiful. She’s so much a part of me that being without her is just alien.

We moved house a couple of weeks ago and our little boy is loving the garden. He and Chloe built a bird house while I was away this week. He sits at the kitchen window gazing out and just waiting for birds to feed from the house.

He’s a happy boy. And that makes two of us :)

From a Dark Time

2011-02-21T15:32:00.000-08:00

I like to read old thoughts...words typed and saved in a folder on my desktop. It's not always a happy experience, but it's sometimes a learning experience. And reading through some things I wrote in late 2009 was certainly thought provoking. Here was one such piece.... Perhaps my real appreciation of this comes in realising how far I have come since that dark time.

I feel nothing in the dark

And less in the light

When my sight is

Blighted with sadness

On faces and strangers

In places I knew

Once upon a time.

And there’s you.

Smiling. Lighting up

The room as you do

Just by being there.

And I want to care

For you as I know

You do for me.

But I can’t.

And you see it.

And you know.

But you won’t give up.

I love you for that.

But you have to go.

Stay Happy

2011-02-20T14:15:00.001-08:00

I wonder if you wonder why
It took so long to find,
The man who makes you smile,
The true love of your life.
Don't question it, don't doubt it.
You're going to be his wife.

Cast doubts aside,
His stunning bride,
Just enjoy the glow.
You've earned it
You deserve it
And believe me,
I do know.

I do know how you've waited,
Breath bated for his heart.
And I have faith that in this life
You'll never be apart.

And I shall smile,
For all the while,
I'm silently so pleased,
To know you found
Your one true fit,
The fit that's meant to be.

Stay happy.

To Our Unborn Child

2011-02-17T07:45:00.001-08:00

I see you. Not just in black and white on glossy hospital scan paper, but in my mind, running around the garden three years from now with a toy in your hand chasing your big brother. Sometimes in those daydreams you're a little boy with brown eyes, dark hair and mucky knees. Other times you're a beautiful little girl with your Mother's incredible smile - the type of smile that causes adorable dimples in your cheeks.

But I don't mind whether you're a son or a daughter. You are equally precious, equally as loved and just as beautiful to us.

Your brother made me a better person in many ways. He gave me the motivation I needed to go out there, take hold of my life and make it work. He made me want to create a comfortable living environment, a safe and loving home and a successful business. That is already there for you. You'll be looked after and you will be born into so much love. True love. You make me want to take the parenting skills I have already learnt and improve them further. You're already making me want to be better.

I keep laying my ear on your Mummy's tummy.

"It will be a long time before you can feel any real action there," the nurse told me in the hospital this week.

"I'm just checking," I told her back.

And I will continue to do so every night and every single morning.

Your brother and me, we've been reading you stories. In fact, he's been writing special ones specifically for the purpose of reading them to you. He's really excited to meet you. You'll love him and he already loves you and already feels very protective in his role as the oldest.

There are so many people here so eager to meet you. Gran and Grandad... Uncle Paul, Auntie Stacey and Uncle Carlo, Uncle Craigy, your brother,,,, and of course, me and Mummy.

Each day that passes is one day closer to us having you in our arms - a tiny little piece of us that will grow, learn, love, live...

Until we know whether you're going to be our second little Prince or our first little Princess, we'll lovingly refer to you as "Bump." It's not the best name, I know - and you're really not all that much of a bump yet either. But I promise we'll come up with something better soon, ok? We won't let you go to school with that name.

I love you. Already. I love you without having ever felt your tiny little fingers wrapped around mine. I love you without having kissed your head or heard you cry. But I do. And so does your Mummy and so does your big brother.

xx

Enjoying Happiness

2011-02-16T05:36:00.001-08:00

I’ve spent the morning trying to work at my desk in the office but in reality gazing at the scan photo from yesterday with a grin on my face.

Becoming a Father to my son made me want to be a better person. Finding out there will now be two children looking to me for guidance throughout their lives makes me want to be better still.

I keep looking at the image and wondering what it will be like the moment I meet him or her the first time. I did not know of my son until he was 4 so I didn’t see the early days. We have more than made up for it in the last couple of years, though. But it will be a special feeling to hold my baby.

My son is so excited too. He keeps looking at the same photo and asking me questions.

“Will I be eight when he comes?”

“No, you’ll still be seven. And it might not be a boy. Maybe it will be a girl.”

“But seven is still a lot older isn’t it?”

“Yes. You’re definitely going to be the much bigger brother.”

“If it’s a boy, I can show him how to play tennis.”

“Yes, you can! But you can if it’s a girl too.”

“Girls are only supposed to play tennis with other girls. The girls in my tennis classes only play with other girls.”

“But you can teach her!”

“Yes I can.”

And then a while later it was questions about names and how long it will be until he or she is here and then how long it will be before he or she can walk and play. He’s as excited as Chloe and I.

My life has changed so much in 12 months. I felt as though I was stuck in a rut at the beginning of 2010. I was low, down... unmotivated and I took it out on the people in the world I loved the most.

I’m a different human being these days. I am the person I was before my Mother died – and the person I was for a brief spell in 2009. I’m me again.

I feel most at home being a Father, a husband (to be), a brother and a friend. That’s where I am at my most comfortable. Having them around me makes me feel like there’s a reason for everything I do, for every hour I am awake... They make me excited for the day ahead. I wake up feeling ready to go, ready to experience something new with them.

When I look at Chloe, I see my future. I see her beautiful smile and I know it fits. I don’t believe that anyone I have previously been in a relationship with was necessarily a bad person – I believe they were simply a bad fit for me and I for them. They and I were incompatible. And it’s clear when I am with Chloe that’s not the case. Everything just fits. We want exactly the same things at exactly the same time. She embraces me both for who I am, flaws included. And it’s reciprocated. Sharing my son with her (she is not his biological Mother, but he does refer to her as ‘Mum’ now) has been the most joyous thing I have done. They love one another so much. I look at Chloe and I know he’s who I was always meant to be with. The learning is over. This is the real thing.

Our son and I are determined to look after Chloe and our new baby throughout the pregnancy. Our boy has already been asking “what can I do?” and whether Chloe needs to be in bed.

“No,” I told him, ”she’ll carry on as normal for a long, long time yet. And then when it gets close, she will leave work. So she doesn’t need to be in bed, but you just keep doing all the things you normally do for her – like carrying her bags and making sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”

“Ok, Dad. I’m on it.”

I was told towards the end of 2009 that this would happen for me – a family. Marriage, more children....

“Nah,” I said, brushing it off. “That’s not me.”

I was wrong.

And as I enjoy every ounce of happiness that I’m blessed with, I equally enjoy knowing that the people I’ve been close to are enjoying their own as well.

The Best Valentine's Gift

2011-02-15T09:40:00.001-08:00

The Best Valentines Gift

We passed on the fancy dinners, weekends away, material crap and general commercial non-spontaneous romance that Valentine's forces upon society this year.

We do romance each and every single day. It's in the kisses, the cuddles, the words we say, the actions we carry out.... it's in the air between us and the atmosphere around us. It's in the vibe that is our household. It's everywhere.

So we felt no need to hold a special weekend or event - we go away for quiet weekends thoughout the year anyway.

But we did go somewhere special. And we did get a special gift....

I have been DYING to write this post. Absolutely DYING to. But I promised I wouldn't until now.

Yesterday we went to the hospital in Oldham for a scan. Chloe is ten weeks' pregnant. :))))))

I was supopsed to wait until week 12 to say anything but after the scan she agreed I could tell everyone. What better way to spend any day (whether February 14th or otherwise) than looking at this brand new little life inside the women I love. A new little life that, less than 7 months from now, will be a tiny little person lying in my arms.

After the hospital, we went to my sister's/ We'd left our son there (he's on half term this week and having fun with Auntie Stacey and his baby cousin is high on his agenda). We told my sister and our boy at the same time to the same delighted response of both of them. Then we visited Chloe's parents. As we were about to spill the beans, our son beat us to it:

"I've got some news," Chloe told them..... and then she paused because tears were forming in her eyes. Our boy was clearly a little impatient.

"Can I tell them?" he asked, looking at her.

She nodded, smiled and kissed his head.

"I'm getting a brother or a sister!"

There were tears and smiles. Our family and friends are so delighted for us.

Chloe will be around 22 weeks' pregnant when we fly to Cuba to marry. We hadn't, of course, planned for that to be the case. But we don't care :) We could not be happier. We found out just before Christmas and it made Christmas so so so special. The hardest thing was not telling people - literally not a soul.

I am full of happy right now. Boy, girl... we don't care. It will be a tiny little person who will come into the lives of the most loving Dad, the most loving Mother and the most loving big brother - 3 people who want this little baby more than anything in the world.

My sister said pretty much the exact same thing I said once all this sank in.

"I wish Mum was here."

And I do too. Every time something happens, we feel like that. But it's a warm and happy feeling, knowing how happy she would have been.

And my boy will be the bestest big brother in the world.

I am excited. So, so excited.... but more than anything, thankful.

Not Afraid

2011-02-11T08:31:00.000-08:00

I’m not afraid to die
Just as long as I have lived.
I’m not afraid to take,
Just as long as I can give.
I’m not afraid to love,
So long as I’m loved in return.
I’m not afraid to teach,
Just as long as I can learn.
I’m not afraid to cry,
As long as tears don’t last forever.
My love, I’ve fear of nothing,
Just as long as we’re together.

Chloe, I dedicate my life to you
xxxx

Write Wrongs

2011-02-07T08:34:00.001-08:00

I write wrongs
Composing pain with pen
On page, setting the stage
For a story of sorrow.

But tomorrow sheds a new light
The end of nights
And sunrise waits.

My pen will
Write wrong no more,
We close that door
And all move on.

Success

2011-02-05T05:46:00.001-08:00

Success is different for everyone and undoubtedly a combination, for most, of a number of things. For some, it’s sporting success, being the best at something. For others it is business.

For me, business does matter. It’s not the most important thing in my life, but it matters. It offers my wife to be, son and future children to come some security in the long term. I like to be able to provide. Call me a traditionalist, but I would feel inadequate if, as a man, I was unable to provide for my family. So I work hard, while putting time aside to enjoy my family as well. I’ve expended my company into social media marketing, viral marketing, mobile marketing, PPC as well as SEO. The results we’re getting across all of them are amazing and my sister is also getting involved now too, which is wonderful.

But business isn’t at all the only thing to define success and I think those who get too caught up in business miss out on what truly matters – small things, family time, laughter....the five minutes in a morning that you reserve for a cuddle in bed. It’s not too much of an ask to set an alarm five minutes earlier and it gives Chloe and I five minutes to savour the stillness of the morning and just enjoy one another quietly for a few minutes before the rush of the day begins.
I think for me success is down to balance. Keeping it all going without one area ever impeding too much on another.

I consider myself successful... not because I’m financially comfortable, not because of a car or a status property or any of that shit, but because I’ve finally achieved the balance in life.