Time with my boys

Weeks like this past week do not come often enough; weeks filled with family breakthroughs!

One of Matthew’s friends was very excited about the prospect of learning to surf. This somehow pushed the right buttons, causing Matthew to ask to accompany his friend for a week of surf school. It is not like I have not tried to get Matthew surfing; instead all of our sessions have ended in frustration as he refused to step into the water. The water, of course, is an essential ingredient for surfing! Some time back, I ascribed his reluctance to a fear of the sea, and decided not to push the issue. Or at least not too much!

Matthew began his first lesson with a multitude of excuses as to why he was not going to surf. The coach told him to stop whining and get in the water. He duly did so, and then discovered a new passion. Five lessons later and he has been transformed into an eager surfing beaver. So much so that he enquired if it was too late to ask Santa for a surfboard for Christmas. Oh yes, far too late! He is an absolute natural on a board, even better than Luke, who represented Boland at that age. To watch my son who could not face the sea, suddenly execute a perfect back hand rail grab turn, made me shake my head in amazement.

I can only wonder what all the fuss has been about. I also am amazed at the powerful influence a friend can be, even at such a young age...

Whilst Matt was safely surfing with surf school, Luke and I found ourselves with time on our hands and a sea at our feet. We needed no convincing to make the most of our position.

Luke has always been a lazy sportsman, instinctively relying on natural talent, of which he has been blessed with oodles. The sea is a wonderful leveller. It eats you up and spits you out if you are lazy. Paddling for Luke has always been too much effort and so he has not bothered too much, exiting at the first twinge of tiredness in his arms. This week I have watched him grow from this good but lazy surfer into a stylish confident wave shredder. Our local beach hosted some big waves this week, which meant Luke has had to paddle for his life to get to backline. Once there he had to then catch waves up to three times his size. By the end of the week he was comfortable surfing anywhere in the line up, and taking off on absolutely anything. His performance each day eclipsed the previous day’s best ever performance. There is nothing that compares to a dad’s pride when other surfers in the water cheer on your little son and shake their heads in wonder!

An even more bizarre event took place when Luke cleaned his room; without having being asked to do so. He then happily mowed the lawn just before Christmas and even wanted to learn how to use the weedeater as well! A neighbour had roped him into watering their garden while they are away. The maturity he has shown in dealing with this daily task has been nothing short of amazing. Boy, has he grown up before my eyes, and in just a couple of days.

I am so blessed to have been able to spend this time with my boys. I have to wonder how much all of the ‘dad focussed’ time has contributed to these changes. And then I have to wonder why I have not invested even more time in their lives...

Holidays

My final project for the year was delivered on Wednesday last week. A little early in the Christmas season, but then again, nobody in the FMCG industry wants to see a consultant in their busiest period of the year. It does of course play havoc with cash flow; no paying work over December and January but then again I am not complaining.

It does provide me with the most amazing opportunity to spend good quality time with my children. Lots of it!

I have two goals for this holiday; as much family time as possible and get super fit.

Luke and I have been out surfing the last three days. I love surfing with Luke, and it meets two of my holiday goals at the same time. My surfing experience with Luke has been dramatically enhanced by an early Christmas present from my family, a surfboard called a fish. It is fatter and thicker than normal which enables one to surf the typically blown out mush that our local break offers in summer. This way Luke and I can surf together and we can both have loads of fun!

My quality time with the boys has included teaching them some new skills. This weekend Luke mowed the lawn for the first time. Now don’t laugh, mowing properly is a skill. One needs to be attuned to the grass, the mower, and most importantly ones toes.

Some of the new skills are a little obscure, like Blackjack and poker. Every boy needs to know how to play these card games and Luke and Matt are having loads of fun. I am fascinated to see the maths skills at work in blackjack, who would have thought. Perhaps by the end of the holiday, I will have trained them to count cards…

I think today, we will learn all about knots!!

The Gift of Children

I was thinking this morning about how blessed I am to have the children I do. Sure they often act up and act out, but they are all amazing individuals. I am most privileged to have been chosen to be their father. I hope and pray I can fulfil my part of the bargain and be the best possible father to each of them. To be there when they need me, and even when they don’t. To have the right advice for them in times of trouble. To share loads of laughs, adventures, sporting triumphs, and defeats. To hold their hands when they need comforting. To guide them wisely when they go astray. And most of all to love and appreciate them for who they are!

It struck me that all children should have parents who feel this way about them. That those children were equally blessed to have parents willing to sacrifice and serve, in order for them to grow up into better adults.

Even though I am the parent, my children definitely make me strive to be a better me. And that has to be good news for everyone!

It made me smile to think of other parents loving their children just as passionately as I love mine.

How wonderful if this was a blessing bestowed on every child, but sadly it just isn’t so!

My boys and I

Our trip to Bloemfontein was not all negative. Matt and Luke said they had an awesome time. Obviously they lived that week on a different planet to the one Donna, Isabella, and I were on!

Donna and I also found out how far we would push ourselves as parents to support our children. Donna spending three nights in that room, amidst the hospital chaos was a huge sacrifice. Yet when her daughter asked, she did not hesitate to plonk her butt in that uncomfortable chair and aeroplane nap. I would hope most parents would chose to do the same; put the needs of their children well above their own needs.

On the occasions when I inhabited the same universe as my boys, we got to spend some special time together.

Bloemfontein is home to a massive military base called Tempe. Tempe is really a big suburb subdivided into the various military divisions. We explored the base stopping at the parabat and armour museums.  The parabat museum was closed, yet somebody kindly found the key and then proceeded to give us a personal tour. I made sure to take a photograph of Luke smiling under a sign which said; ‘a mind is like a parachute, it only works when it is open!’ The armour division was boy heaven! Imagine streets and streets lined with old tanks. We browsed for ages and eventually found the appropriate Sherman for our garage. Unfortunately the army killjoys would not let us take it home.

Another shared dimension saw us touring the local city zoo. I had not been to a zoo since I was a child. And zoos have not changed much since then. Lazy, fat animals in cages too small for them! Still not my favourite place, especially when we are so used to seeing animals in their natural habitat. My boys were fascinated regardless.

The highlight was on the long and boring trip home. Whilst listening to the radio we heard that a convoy of Ferrari's had been spotted on the same highway we were on. The announcer later read out an update that the Ferrari's had turned off and parked at the casino in a town along the road. As luck would have it, we found ourselves at the same town just 20 minutes later. Fired up on spontaneity, we stopped and drooled over the 43 incredible beasts parked there. We left on a high, the journey long forgotten! Luke sent an SMS to the radio station thanking them for the tip, and you can imagine his excitement when it was read on air.

I have two wonderful sons. Time together is to be treasured, regardless of the circumstance

My children have had such a good week. Matt and Luke scored deciding goals in their hockey matches. Matt went on to score a try in a rugby match, and then another two goals in a further hockey match. It is amazing to see the confidence and enthusiasm that success on the sports field brings back into our home. Not to be outdone, Isabella can now fly down our hill on her plastic pink bike, all 20 months of her beaming in delight.

But it has been better than that. Luke has suddenly found his pleasant self, where he talks nicely, thinks about others, and even remembers to do some of what he has been asked. A revolution in our home!

Donna and I tried to figure out the driver of the big change. As a parent, this one learning would have massive potential! One possibility seemed to revolve around him being allowed to play maths games on my phone. I had downloaded the games in an attempt to make maths fun and change his attitude towards the subject. Who knows, a side effect may have been a complete change to his overall attitude.

In complete contrast, Matthew has found his core grumpiness. One can see him trying to battle for control. Food and sleep are sure fire ways to get him back to his energiser self. We did wonder if he made a swap with Luke, a bad attitude for a little of the good stuff!

As a result, Luke and I are having a boy’s night out with one of his friends. I am looking forward to our time together, the two of us, in my black beast, a road trip, time with mates, a sleep over, and a long trip home past heaps of surf spots.

Matt is having a weekend away with one of his best friends. I not sure Donna is as excited to spend more time as just the girls!

Sweating the small stuff

Don’t sweat the small stuff! I remember my mother reading a book with the same title when I still lived at home. I had always thought I steered a rather good line past the minor issues of life, focussing on things of importance, but now I am not so sure...

It took a line from a film trailer to wake me up. The film was titled, ‘The Tree of Life’. The film has Brad Pitt in it, but my wife turned her nose up at it. The brief snippet involved a mother shouting after a father and son, who were walking away together. She yelled something to the father about teaching lessons their son could understand because he was only a child.

 
It struck me how often I try and get my children to get everything perfect all of the time. Many of those things being the small things like hanging up towels, not complaining about unpacking the dishwasher, cleaning their rooms, etc. I cannot believe how frustrated I become when they fail to get these things right. Perhaps it’s because the small stuff still goes wrong despite numerous repeated requests for change. Even more likely is that I have allowed the small stuff to take over my life. Where it has become more important for everything to be perfect and stay perfect.

Though strangely enough, I am not perfect at all...

The effort required to continuously focus on all of this stuff is enormous. The shouting, tempers, and frustration is ludicrous. I like consistency in the way things are done and in the way I discipline. Yet consistency for the sake of consistency is a rather pointless exercise.

My oldest son’s penchant for walking around without tying his shoelaces may be a minor safety issue but certainly will have no bearing on him growing up into a man of character, values, and love. As parents, we only have so much time with our offspring, surely it should be spent focussed on the things that will make a real difference in their future. As a parent with over ten years experience, I am continually surprised at how much I still have to learn.

Time to step up and let the little things go!

Laughing, skating, and dads

My street is a funny place. A place where laughs are shared with careless abandon, skateboards provide meaningful transport, and wine is drunk in groups at the side of the road! A strange and unusual place to live!

According to my calculations, our small stretch of road comprises 24 houses in which 27 children lay their heads at night. And there is at least one more on the way! This incredible piece of arithmetic genius excludes all of the bigger kids, the ones with real leather wallets and the coolest toys. To say there is plenty of action on our street would be putting things mildly. Always somebody to play with and some or other set of wheels to be ridden, kids paradise!

Friday night saw 5 dads on skateboards and multitudes of children enjoying the pleasures of well greased ball bearings on axels. Dads are fully involved in the play, including special moves like lie on the road as fast as possible from coasting on board, and lets test how hot these chillies really are! Luckily for the dads, cold beer provides welcome relief from our sillier antics and refreshes far better than Oros. Last night our impromptu gathering ended at the half pipe at my house. Strangely, the only injury being one big kid with a few new dents in his ankle.

I like the fact that as dads, we are involved in the play with our children. I like that they can see us trying to push ourselves, and having fun with each other. Most of our relationships with our children are serious and it is good to be able to get down to their level and just enjoy time spent doing silly things.

Three of the children belong to a new neighbour who just moved in. When he walked away from my house with three skateboards under his arms, only one of which was his sons, I knew he would be fitting right in!

Give him some space and time

I had another great chat on night number two with Victor, another good Johannesburg friend of mine. I love going to visit his house as it is filled with children and plenty of action.


We talked about our children and our role as parents. It seems to be a common thread that links many of my conversations. I expressed my concern about failing as a parent. My oldest is only a couple of years away from being a teenager and there are still so many things he just does not get.

Victor made an interesting point; as parents we can only do so much. So long as we are doing as much as possible in our children’s best interests, we are doing the right thing. Then he went on to say something about parents not being the only influence in a child’s life.

Now that really struck home. My father was not at home much whilst I was growing up, and yet I managed to find my way. The reason, apart from my mother’s influence, was that I had some rather awesome substitute mentors. In high school, when I had the greatest propensity to go off the rails, I was instead taken under the wing of two people; the vice head master and the school chaplain. Both took this incredible interest in me, providing wonderful shining examples of how men should be. I can still feel their influence in my life today!

There was also one of my friends that made a huge impact. At the most influential time of my life, I had a friend who would change it for the better in so many ways. It could so easily have turned out differently. Instead this friend helped me break out of my shell and become the ‘me’ I was supposed to be.

Interestingly enough, just that morning, the two of us had spent an hour together running and catching up. 25 years on and we are still important to each other!

It was with a great sense of relief that I thought about my son. I am not alone in helping him to find his way. Of course I must make sure that there are a number of great mentors in his life. People that he would feel comfortable turning to in times of trouble. Those times when parents will just not do!

And then hopefully he will take some responsibility towards making his life really wonderful.

To do it or not to do it?

My trip to Johannesburg was interesting on many levels. Normally one goes on a trip for a single reason, not this one! I got to sup with good mates, run with the father of my Godchildren, put in a day of work, meet Aki, check out a car I have had my beady eye on, and wait around for my flight which was delayed by 4 hours.


OK, so I did not choose the last part!

At dinner on the first night, I met a good mate of the good mates with which I was dining. Yes, I know it sounds complicated, but it really isn’t! Whilst chewing on some ‘melt in your mouth’ calamari, he asked for our opinion on his indecent proposal. Obviously our ears pricked up and we paid a little more attention.

A lady friend of his had asked him to donate some time and his sperm so that she could produce a child. It was apparent that her biological clock was ticking very loudly. Not surprisingly, he was flattered by the proposal. His thinking was that as she was a good friend, it would be better for him to donate sperm that she scrape the barrel at the sperm bank. I suspect that he was also looking forward to making the donation in person, if you know what I mean.

Unfortunately he asked for my opinion...

I kindly explained that I was incredible pro the fatherhood movement, whatever that may be. In other words, children both need and deserve to have an active father in their lives. I sincerely believe that children with involved parents have a far greater chance of growing up into good and value adding adults, than those without.

I could not imagine having a child in this world and not being able to be a father. To know that your own child, your flesh and blood, walked the earth; and did not even know you existed.

How sad it is that we have come to a point where having a child can be an arrangement in convenience and selfishness. And then to put a good friend in a situation where they actually have to make this decision.

I am not sure that he will be calling me for a follow up chat!!

Jordy flying high

I had a big chance to really impact on my children’s lives yesterday, and I think I got it all wrong.

Jordy Smith, the number two surfer in the world, gathered a couple of his friends and put on a tow in aerial surfing display at Camps Bay. I thought it would be a really cool event to get some great photographs, and show my children something incredible. Jordy, for those that do not know, is a South African!

It started at 19h00 and ended around 22h00, a late night for my boys! The beach was absolutely packed, cameras bulged everywhere, and the sea lamely burped up a tame one foot high shore break. Somebody dropped a camera lens and it was sneakily removed by the sea; it will never be the same again!

The surfing manoeuvres were sublimely ridiculous, with surfers boosting 6 foot into the air and landing again in less than knee high water. It was incredible to see, and the show did not disappoint, regardless of the lack of swell.

My kids struggled with the late night, our lack of dinner preparations, and the crowds of people. I on the other hand was struggling with my camera, working the lighting, the background, the crowds, and the action. As it got dark, my big flash failed to work, which was rather annoying.

I packed away my camera and then only got busy with the issues of making the event fun for my boys. It was probably a bit too late. We went in search of dinner and after walking for a kilometre through thousands of revellers, we settled for the only thing available; ice cream! It was a beautiful evening and Camps Bay was rocking.

We made it back to the beach to see Jordy attacking the waves again, finishing the night with an incredible Superman.

In all, the evening was too late, too crowded, and too hungry for my boys, but jam packed with the spirit of adventure. They had heaps of fun and certainly had their eyes opened!

Before falling into bed, it occurred to me that the business of being a great dad and my photography do not mix very easily. Instead, both pursuits were only half what they could have been, which was a little sad!

Next time, family first!

The glorious holidays

So much has happened since I last blogged.


Cricket, swimming, chess, backgammon, and movies have entertained the kids and I. Numerous books have been read, including 1984 by George Orwell, something that was missed in my youth. Time has been spent in the pool. Time has not been spent in the sea, due to the winds in the Cape over the last 2 weeks. Great insights have been made, including the need to back off making my children perfect and rather providing them with an environment in which they can have some fun as children. Christmas was quiet, not a food fest, filled with presents, and the real spirit of the feast; the birth of Jesus Christ. My mother’s new townhouse down the road is looking awesome after a bit of DIY refurbishment.

And the New Year has made its entrance. Apparently this all took place while I was fast asleep. Meaning of course that I had plenty of energy for my New Years day surf! A frigid, wave few, and somewhat fun experience!

Most importantly, I have had some great time off work and been able to throw myself into other projects. Ahem, those other projects did not include the house maintenance issues, or even the overgrown garden! Some of projects I even completed flat on my back with my eyes closed!

The thing is, I am now ready to tackle some serious work again. And that is wonderful!

Mothers and blogs

My children were frustrating me the other day. No surprise, it must be one of their principle roles in life...


The boys were operating at speeds slower than a snail with a limp. Fighting with each other at every moment. And seemingly requiring detailed instructions on absolutely everything, from talking properly to walking.

I was relating these issues to my mother and her comment was most unexpected!

She referred me to a blog I had posted ages ago, where I had whined about the same issues. She then quoted my insight which had been to let them do things in their time, instead of controlling every moment.

I was gobsmacked! Firstly, that I ultimately had good advice for myself, and that my mother pays that much attention to my blog!

I am back to setting broad boundaries and letting the boys get things done in their own time. And so far, it has relieved a heap of tension.

Gotta love your mother!

Love in the morning

I recently visited a mate in Johannesburg for a good chat. One of his sons mentioned something about car prayers and I pricked up my ears. My mate has 3 sons, all 13 years old, cool teenagers, and yet comfortable with the concept of prayer with their father on the way to school. I liked this a lot!

One of the problems with prayer is that unless you teach someone to pray, it really seems a little ilogical. As a Christian parent, I have a responsibility to ensure that my children can pray, and to guide them in their development in this area. It has of course been one of those areas that I have neglected, and hoped that they would just learn, like I did!

So about a week ago, I tried out car prayers on the way to school. My boys were totally enthusiastic, which I found rather surprising. Even more surprising were their beautiful prayers. Filled with love and concern for all of those around them! Driving to school for the last week has been a humbling experience as they have made car prayer time their own.

It would seem that I am now the one learning how to pray!

A new colour belt

I like to be prepared for anything that I do. Perhaps too prepared! If I need to know something, I like to research it, think about, day dream about it, and eventually go and do it. I like to know absolutely everything I need to know for any test I may take. I hate not knowing. I suppose not knowing is a personal failure and I don’t like failing.


Right now I feel like a bad parent. I did not adequately prepare my boys for their Judo grading on Monday night. We went through their stuff together a couple of times over the weekend, but they still needed more work. A lot more work, I thought! Hence my absolute surprise at their confidence and calmness as they were called up to grade.

My immediate thought was that they just did not know what they did not know. Yet every time, I looked over to the grading, they looked assured and executed some lovely throws. Hopefully, the right throws!

Afterwards, both were very happy with how it had all gone. Nonchalant!

I have to grade on Friday and am a little concerned. Adding some pressure is the presence of a Boland official at the grading. I am going to have to be on top of my game. Luckily, Wednesday night saw us learning an 18 throw Kata for the first time. And it will be tested on Friday!

I have a lot of work to do before Friday, and sadly none of my children’s confidence or calmness!

In their own time

I was sitting in the dark in Isabella’s room, being the bottle holder, while she slurped away. Matt was in the bath having a merry time. The bathroom is next door to Isabella’s room and merry baths do not bode well for sleeping babes! I had asked him to make it snappy and quiet, and once again I was being ignored.

I do so love being ignored!

Donna was out at an emergency woman’s only comfort party. I am really not sure what that is. Generally it is me who is out at some or other event, leaving her with the children. With her on a comfort break, it was up to me to hold the fort.

So there I was, my annoyance levels steadily rising without release. My sweet child slowly drifting off to sleep regardless of the amount of pressure I was exerting on the bottle! Out of nowhere I had this inspiration that perhaps my children have a different timetable to my own. I like to get things done now and as fast as possible. My children prefer to do it their way in their time and play all along the way. For some reason they don’t seem to get my way at all, which means that my voice gets louder, and sometimes tears roll down cheeks.

Merely minutes after my enforced silence ended in a babe in bed, I exited Isabella’s room to find Matt out of the bath and dressed. In total disbelief, I asked Luke to get bathed. He ignored me and started to draw another picture. I took a deep breath, entered my office and got stuck into some work. Moments later Luke jumped into the bath, and out again, hung up his towel, and got dressed without another loud and forceful word of encouragement.

Have I have missed this simple concept for their entire lives? Perhaps my children do hear me; their own interpretation of the urgency just differs? Are all of my requests are as urgent as I think they are? Do I need to accept that some things can be done in their own time?

My children are all asleep and I wonder if my new found insight will hold true in the morning.

Or ever again…

Still in Traffic

I am fascinated by the world that unfolds daily outside of the car window. At home when stuck in traffic, there is little to keep ones attention bar the senseless chatter on the radio and the cramp in your right leg.

60% of the population here is under the age of 18 years old. Kids are everywhere, playing in the dirt and rubbish, carrying loads for their parents, and standing around outside their schools. Most babies can be seen strapped to their mothers backs, contentedly dreaming away the day. One just does not see old people; it is as if they have all vanished.

We drive down a road that is filled with graffiti, finger painted in the dust that cakes the abandoned cars. At its end we pass a free clinic. At least 100 woman and their babies stand around waiting for it to open. They are clothed in bright colours and even though there is a sense of desperation, there is also this joyous sense of hope.

I miss my own children. I feel as if I have abandoned them, swapped them out for a piece of Africa and 15 hour work days. I miss my wife, my other half, and hope that this trip, this small sacrifice of each other for a short time, is the right thing to do.

Beaten up

Some 24 years ago, I used to model a beautiful judogi on occasion in a competitive environment. Judo, the gentle art, is not that gentle when one is faced with an opponent determined to wipe the floor with your snot. Add in the mothers of those fierce opponents, who are at least six times my size, yelling helpful comments to their children like; ‘kill him’; and you have a recipe for extra chess lessons!

That was a long time ago and yet I managed to earn my stripes on the judo mat. Sometimes I saw many stars and at others I saw many stars but perhaps a couple less than my opponent!

Saturday brought all of that back to me. My father used to avoid judo tournaments as he could not deal with the intensity of the event nor the fact that his son was the object of abuse. Thinking myself well above all of that, I took my children to their first Judo tournament. Both of them have only had a couple of months of experience in the sport but it was a tournament hosted by our own club; and what better way for them to learn and grow in this sport.

I had the joyous job of weighing in all of the male competitors together with Wild Willie, the father of another father and sons combination in the club. Weighing in the men meant that I got to see them all in their jocks, a rather intimidating experience considering the size and muscle definition of those that would be in my weight category. I wondered how I could be afraid to fight yet still support my children in doing the very same thing!

There were only two five year old competitors and one was my son and the other Wild Willie’s. Both of their names were called out and off they went down to the mat; a competitor area only. There Matt was fitted with a blue belt whilst Theo got a white one (in order to clearly identify them to the judges). I could not help imagining what was going through his mind. As a five year old in this strange environment, on centre stage, with heaps of people watching, following the bewildering amount of formality in terms of bows and etiquette, and waiting to have a fight?

As usual this little guy surprised me; nonchalantly managing the formalities and squaring up to his mate with a smile on his face. He then fought hard and was beaten. He then got up, shook Theo’s hand, and walked off most satisfied with his performance. I cannot explain how proud I was just that he had done it at all.

Luke later got onto the mat and faced off against an incredibly skilled chap. Luke held him off for a little while, but was then thrown spectacularly, probably the best throw in the tournament! Unfortunately it hurt and the Lukester was most upset. He sucked up his tears and fought twice more, winning one and drawing one.

Afterwards both my children said that Judo was sore! I wondered if I had sent them in too soon, but they both were keen to fight again! I was quite taken aback as this had been a tough encounter for them, one of life’s really tough lessons!

It now looks like dad is going to have to put himself out on the mat too, risking failure and plenty of pain, because just maybe I will be successful! And if not, my children will see that it is OK to fail if you give it your best!