Blog meme – about me 15 June 2008

Haille tagged me with this blog meme.

I had to google it to understand what a blog meme is. Hey - I’m new at this. Anyway, I’m not sure I like the idea of turning my blog into a magazine quiz, but it did look like one way of telling you a little more about me, without the usual requirement for thought and drafting.

Oh, and I had already added a link to Hallie’s blog in my last post, so this is gonna look like overkill.

Anyway, I’m not going to answer all of the questions in this meme, just the ones I think you might be interested in.

1. What were you doing five years ago?

Still trying to make my first marriage work. Gainfully employed (I’m now a freelancer). Living with my kids (now a weekend dad).

2. What are five things on your to-do list today?

Got to collect my eldest son from a weekend long army cadets camp (a 100 mile round trip to the kids house), spend some quality time with all three kids, spend some time with my brother in law and father in law (birthday celebrations this weekend), try to keep things cool with my wife, prepare for work on Monday.

6. Five places you have lived.

Near Edinburgh, Glasgow, South London, Hampshire, North London.

7. Five jobs that you’ve had?

Bookmaker, warehouseman, driver, engineer, rocket scientist, team leader, cost engineer, advisor, coach, consultant, project manager, trainer, interim manager.

8. How did you name your blog?

It seemed to sum up what I wanted to write about – the ideal of relationships, and the reality, as I see it – of trouble in paradise.

Family isn’t a word, its a sentence 15 June 2008

We’re not totally disfunctional, my family.

I mean, there’s the stuff I mentioned about my father, okay, but that’s it.

Oh, and my wife not talking to me [send me to coventry]. And maybe we haven’t .. you know .. much. Since the baby. Actually, I mean, since he was conceived. And only once since he was born. He’s nearly two now.

I haven’t mentioned my daughter in this blog yet. She is struggling (make that refusing) to accept her stepfather, since her mother re-married last year. She still lives with them, but she really has made it difficult for her mother and her new husband. She’s just about to turn thirteen, though, so maybe she was going to be difficult anyway.

And, I’m not cool with her mother (my first wife) anyway.

Upside for me is that my daughter is keen to spend more time with us. As a result, she has really bonded with her baby brother.

So why was I so struck by the title of the post I saw the other day - family isn’t a word, its a sentence? It really struck a nerve with me.

I linked to Hallie’s blog in my last post, but just I read something she wrote a year ago [hard questions]. Hardly anyone seems to make a relationship work anymore. Even when there are kids involved.

Family relationships can be difficult. And sometimes it does feel like a life sentence, trying to make a marriage work. Trying to keep a family together.

I heard a little boy in a playground the other day, ask a little girl “What’s your step-father’s name”. She said “I don’t have a step-father”. And he said “Yes you do. Everybody’s got a step-father!”. How I wish that wasn’t nearly true.

My son wants to join the army 12 June 2008

I remember the feeling of awe and wonder when I first held him in my arms. My baby boy. My amazing, miracle, tiny baby. My life – right there in my arms. And for months I couldn’t put him down. Oh, he woke up in the night, suffered from the most frightening colic, seemed so amazingly fragile. But that was just an excuse ! I wanted to hold him to me, keep him warm and safe, smell his baby smell and the softness of his touch.

As he grew he went through chubby cute, to lisping cute, to playing with his willy [he's not alone - the balls update], to undressing little girls (frowned upon), and so on. He turned out to be strong willed, and clever. So he has been in his share of trouble.

And when our marriage broke-down he went a little wild for a time. But he seems to be back on track.

Fifteen. He has a cute little girlfriend. More friends than I can count, actually. Independent. Doing well at school. Studying hard, but trying not to be a geek. He is really. He’s good at science and maths. He thinks he might want to study engineering at University.

And now he thinks he’d like to join the army. Maybe go for an commission as an officer.

I have some sympathy with that. There’s a lot of benefit in learning self discipline, and the sort of teamwork you only learn in the armed forces [Why every man should serve in the army]. Then there’s the adventure, and the feeling of serving your country. In practice, a soldier’s adventure might be anyone elses nightmare [one soldier's account].

My son and I had a conversation last week about this. He spoke about bravery and courage, but with perspective of a child who has never seen or contemplated loss.

I considered taking the same career path myself. Finding a girl and seeing that she wasn’t cut out to be an army wife [army wives] helped me make up my mind. So I pursued a career in civvy street.

Part of me would like him to have that opportunity, of course. But part of me dreads knowing that he could be put in harms way [our sons]. And that too many young people have chosen to serve their countries, and paid the ultimate price [too close to home].

My thoughts are with all of the military personnel and civilians whose lives have been touched by armed conflict around the world. But my worry is for my own son. My baby.

About my father 10 June 2008

My parents live about 400 miles from us. Which is not a lot, as distances go. Less than a day by train or car. And my parents have recently retired, which maybe should have meant that I would be seeing more of them. But they seem to be too busy, too afraid of coming to the big city, too reluctant to to disturb the routine with their dog and their neighbours and their own friends.

I have a job, and a wife and three kids, two of whom don’t live with us full time but visit weekends. Somehow my folks are missing out on developing a close relationship with their grandchildren. And I’m not spending as much time as I’d like with my father.

A lot of it is about the dog. Dad thinks (and has said on more than one occassion) that the dog is his baby, his youngest child. He thinks that the dog, my brother and I are siblings. He won’t come to visit without the dog, and my wife is allergic to them.

I don’t know whether the dog is just an excuse though. My parents get the dog looked after maybe two to four times a year when they go on holiday. I don’t know why they can’t do that and come and spend a week here. I’d like to spend a little more time with Dad without the dog.

Part of me is surprised to find that as a grown man (and I’m now in my 40s !) I still feel the need for a parent. Its not that I was ever neglected as a child. My parents were close, family oriented. This distance has grown between us during the years of work, marriage and family. Strange, really. I’d have thought that having three grandchildren might have pulled us closer together, but maybe during that time we have been living such seperate lives. The breakdown of my first marriage didn’t help. But why hasn’t it gotten better?

It’s time we started a dialogue, don’t you think, reader?

What is it that I’m missing, and is it the same for you?

Good Times ! 8 June 2008

I followed a link yesterday afternoon about a forthcoming performance by Kuljit Bhamra at the British Library [Late]. Kuljit is a British Asian tabla drummer and percussionist. You should be able hear a brief sample of his playing, together with his mother Mohinder Kaur Bhamra singing Gidda Pao Haan Deo here. (Thanks to Spinning in Air for that link).

I then read, to my delight, that Kuljit was playing in a concert with one of my musical heroes – Kathryn Tickell (Northumbrian small pipes & fiddle) [Kathryn Tickell]. What’s more, it was in a one-off performance by an asian-celtic folk fusion group with 3 other folk musicians playing sitar, accordion and fiddle. All part of the Spitalfields festival.

Right up my street ! Before I knew it I’d packed my work and was on my way home to drag wife and baby off to see it. Wife wasn’t really keen, to tell the truth, but I wanted to take baby anyway, and she didn’t trust me to look after him properly, so she came.

The venue was the marvellously crumbling Wilton’s Music Hall: “the world’s oldest and last surviving grand music hall” ! [http://www.wiltons.org.uk/history/]. The building is in such a delapidated condition, but so full of character. Like being in parts of Florence. One of London’s great “unknown wonders” !

As usual, we arrived a little late, and the (amateur) organisers made a pit of a palaver about that, and the fact that we wanted to take the baby in to hear the concert There was such a lot of overdramatic shushing of the bar staff and ushers going on as we waited for a suitable interval in the performance to slip in.

In the end, we saw only about half of the concert. The group was playing a lot of new music, specially written for this group and this event. Not all of it great, I thought. But Kathryn and friends play a couple of toe-tapping reels towards the end of her set, and the whole group played one composition of hers, which I thought very good.

Wife loved the venue, but didn’t care that much for the music.

Baby just loved it all !

Good times !