Home Again?

When we arrived back in the UK, KC asked me if Singapore was our home or whether the UK was.

I asked him why he felt the need to ask it, and was quite surprised by his answer.

"It's simple,' he said, 'You always say that one is where we are - where the family are. So for Papa home must be where his family are. That means that home for Papa must be Singapore and...' he went on, 'you both know so many people over there - whenever we go we just meet loads of your friends and have loads of dinners and you drink lots of wine (I'm not sure where he got that last bit from) and we sit and smile and play on our phones."

"So you didn't enjoy it then?" I said.

"I enjoyed it,' he replied, "I love Singapore - I love the food and the warmth and the swimming and the tv... I don't really love the shopping though and I don't like leaving, because it means going on a long flight and I've seen all the movies on the way back..."

'Do you want to live there?" I asked him.

"Maybe, but only if I could live with Cousin M. and Grandma and Grandpa - they let me do what I want."

Hmmmmm... Well, I guess thats part of the joy of being Grandparents - you can let the grandkids run riot an then give them back. I didn't want to remind him that his cousin will be returning to university next week and won't be there anyway.

Family is big for KC. It means a lot to him.

TJ then came in. 'Did you enjoy Singapore?" I asked him.

"No,' he replied, "I hate the food, it's too hot and you just make us go shopping. I also don't have my playstation and I couldn't see my friends."

"What about seeing the rest of the family,' I said, "and your Godparents?"

"That was alright," he replied, "But don't you think they could all come and see us next time?"

So we have one traveller and one home body... which, strangely enough, reminded me of myself and my own brother. I have always had itchy feet and my brother has never left the North, but I think we are both happy, we just accept we are different.

Hopefully, the boys will see that as well.

Yesterday, on the radio the song 'Hello, Goodbye' by The Beatles came on. KC was singing along. "You know this song?" I asked him. He looked at me, "Don't you remember, it was the song that was playing in the car when you picked us up for the first time from our foster home."

I had forgotten.

"You've got a great memory," i said.

"Well, it's one of my favourite songs, " he said as he left the room.

It's moments like that that make parenting worthwhile...

Doctors and Science...

So TJ's therapist has decided that now would be the right time to address his medical issues. Her feeling is that he will face questions in Secondary School and that by learning about his medical diagnosis, whatever that may be, that she will be able to work with him to 'own' it and to learn to accept it as part of who he is.

That was awfully hard to hear, let alone write it. But she is the professional and so we should respect that she knows what she is doing.

So a doctor's appointment was made and we duly went along.

I went in first to explain the situation and that we had a worry that there maybe an issue with FASD due to his early experiences, I won't put all his medical details here - but FASD is on the cards for so many adopted children that I think its ok to mention to - besides it may not even be that. The doctor listened attentively and then asked me to bring TJ in.

But, once TJ was in the room the doctor started asking me questions about his 'real parents'. I was dumbstruck. I kept referring to them as 'birth parents' but the doctor still kept on - how tall were his real parents, did I have his real parents medical history, why did he come into care in the first place?.... And he was sitting there!

Then the doctor decided to check on TJ's height and weight - using Google!!!!! I could have done that at home!

Then... and I nearly fell over - she said, "You don't have to bring him back - just by looking at him  can see that something is not right - I'll issue a letter for the specialist, pick it up next week."

AND HE WAS IN THE ROOM!!!!!!!!!!!

I was furious. We left and even before we had got back into the car TJ was in floods of tears - he was ugly, he was a midget, everyone hated him.

I don't think this is what the therapist had in mind. It certainly wasn't what I would call a good bedside manner.

As we left the doctor said, "Nice to see you again, you teach at my son's school'. I hadn't even recognised her - but now I was really uncomfortable as I don't think I can put in a complaint.

On another note, my eldest, KC, decided that tonight was the night he wanted to talk about the damage done to him by his birth family. And to question a lot of decisions that were made about his life.

I have a policy that I don't lie to the children. I may make the answers age appropriate - but if they are old enough to ask then they are old enough to know - in a kind way,  I hope.

So we sat and chatted and afterwards we had a big hug.

As I turned away he said, "Daddy..."

I looked at him lovingly.

"Daddy, can you email my science teacher and let him know that I haven't done my homework as we were having a serious chat about my 'past and my issues'.

He gave me a big grin!!!!

I had been played!!!!

So he is now sitting opposite me doing his science homework.

But, secretly, whether he has played me or not - I think he feels better for having his questions answered.

Busy Doing Nothing...

Why is it when you think to yourself, 'I'm going to get back to work on my blog - make sure that I write more regularly now'...  Why is that the minute you say that then absolutely nothing happens in your week?

We went back to school last week. Not much to report there. Papa wrote a reply to the Head's letter (see last week's post) but we haven't really heard anything - except the Head's PA called to try and arrange a meeting with Papa - but he was too busy to take the call - so the Head's PA spoke to Papa's answering machine.

We had some snow - not enough to close the school for a day, which was disappointing. Particularly for KC who spent pretty much the whole of Thursday night pinned against the window begging the dear Lord to make it snow - I'm sure the dear Lord was listening to countless children all over the country praying for the same thing.

Then to cap it all KC got a stinking cold - so didn't actually go to school anyway - but was too ill to go outside and enjoy the little snow we had - maybe God was teaching him a lesson - 'be careful what you wish for' and all that.

Anyway KC was well enough to go to his drama group yesterday. He's started a new one locally, one of those franchises - but his friend goes and they both seem to love it. He came back after the first week and said, "My new drama teacher is gay as well.' So at least there are positive role models for him. Then he added, "Are all drama teachers gay, like you?" I wanted to point out to him that musical theatre was basically a big gay celebration (I didn't of course! and naturally it isn't... I have some straight friends in musical theatre too... I'm sure I do... (joking guys!!!!!))

Instead I pointed out that the theatre was as disciplined as the army (his other love)... just with more sequins...

Then last night it was TJ's turn to get sick - great fun!

But luckily, fingers crossed, both Papa and I are fine - so far!

KC has gone with best friend and family to a skate park - his aim is to be a world scooter champion - well, it is this week anyway. TJ's aim is still to beat the PS4 at anything... and to clean out his hamster!

Which I am now going to remind him to do...

And who says family life is dull...

Actually, I quite like the dull weeks.

Holiday - without the kids!

We did it!

We went away without the children.

I'm still not quite sure how we persuaded my sister to look after the both of them - but once she had said yes there was no turning back. Tickets were booked and we headed off to the big apple to have some quality adult time...

Except that I spent the first two days worried about the children - would they be ok? Would my sister ne ok? What would happen if either or both children were rushed to A and E? What if we were both killed in a freak taxi collision? Who would look after our kids then - had I put my sister down as their guardian in the will? how would they cope? How would she cope?

Suddenly the whole idea of a holiday without the boys sweemed far more stressful than one with...

Luckily, Papa had it all in hand. He produced a bottle of gin and a wifi subscription- on the proviso that I only checked in once a day to make sure everything was ok. I could do this whilst he caught up with some work  - he is a work-a-holic, but thats something both and the kids have come to accept and understand. If Papa doesn't make contact with work on a regular basis then he too can become stressed and any benefits of being away are quickly lost.

It turned out the kids were having a great time - they went to Harry Potter World, they stayed up late, they went to the movies - they ate too much pizza and junk food - they were having so much fun!

So I eventually relaxed and we spent the rest of the week eating and drinking far too much.

When we got home my sister said she had a great time and would happily have the boys again, although maybe only for a long weekend next time - perhaps a week was slightly too much - for all of us. But all of my fears were unfounded - they all had fun.

What was lovely though, and I suppose is the main point of my ramble, is that TJ, for the first time ever, told me he missed us - he even came close to using the 'l' word - but thats still just a step too far for him at the moment - who knows maybe the next time we go away he may be able to say it.

But, I came to a realisation as well - although i loved spending some time alone with Papa (and we needed it) I also love spending holiday time with the boys - even though they moan and complain and generally make most holidays as difficult as they can - having them there still makes it worthwhile.

Puppies, Grapes and Leaving Home...

It's been a hectic few days, which resulted in my missing my weekly post - hopefully I can make up for it this week!

It's been mainly the dogs that have caused us worry this week.

Our eldest dog, the toothless Cairn, managed to grow an ulcer, on her eye, it wasn't pleasant. Poor thing. After two weeks of treatment at the local vet he decided that we were going to have to see the specialist, so we drove thirty miles to the nearest pet hospital and they decided to operate there and then. The ulcer was removed and a contact lense placed on the eye to help it heal - I never realised they made contact lenses for dogs - luckily we had maintained her insurance as the bill would have ensured that Christmas was cancelled otherwise.

On the same morning the puppy, bonkers Cocker, decided to get into the fruit bowl and consume about half a kilo of grapes - I blamed the boys to begin with then found all the stalks under the coffee table. Whilst the vet was looking at the toothless Cairn I mentioned in passing what the puppy had done. I laughed... he didn't. 'You need to bring her in as soon as you get home," he said with a worrying tone, "That amount of grapes is potentially fatal."

I had no idea that grapes were so toxic. So I raced the puppy back to the vet and she stayed there all day having her stomach pumped and being induced to vomit.

It was a fun day in the Williams' household that day.

The vet continued telling me that it wasn't just grapes that were toxic to dogs, but raisins and alcohol as well - especially fruit cake. She had better not go near my Christmas cake - after three months of being 'fed' I think there is more brandy than fruit in it.

And now it's advent!

Both boys have dealt with Christmas with difficulty over the past few years - can you believe this is their fourth with us! It's also the first one where it feels like Christmas is coming.

TJ won't allow anything about Christmas to be mentioned before December the first - he gets quite angry when he sees people put their decorations up before then - I think he may be a member of the advent police.

Both boys have their birthdays this month as well, so despite being very expensive, it's also quite emotional for them both. Add to that the fact that they came to live with us just after Christmas, then seeing the tree go up can trigger off quite a few emotions.

This weekend, TJ decided he wanted to find a new family. One without any children where there would just be him. For most children I'm sure this is a usual occurence, I remember running away when I was about 9 and going to my friends house and eating jam sandwiches. I was home for tea - but at least I showed my parents I was serious about going.

But for TJ its different, he has had a few families, birth, various foster and now his forever family. But what is forever to an 8 year old? If TJ wants a new family then in his mind that is a reality that could actually happen.

We decided to treat it with humour. He presented me with his packed bags first thing in the morning, I asked him what he was going to eat. He decided not to leave until after breakfast.

After breakfast he remembered it was Sunday roast dinner - chicken, his favourite, he decided to stay for that. In between KC was jubilant, TJ was going and because letters to Santa had already been written then KC would also get all of TJ's presents. KC was practically pushing his younger brother out of the door.

I could see things were going too far. So I took TJ upstairs and sat with him. "Why do you want to leave?" I asked, "You know that we will all be very sad to see you go?"
"No you won't," he said quite calmly, "You are always telling me off and making me do stuff I don't like - like tidying my room and homework."
"Everyone has to do those," I said, "Even in this 'new' family"
"They won't," he said, "Because they want a little child and they will love me and give me everything I want."

Suddenly I thought I was being blackmailed.

"Well," I said, "Think of all the things we already do for you - cooking your meals, buying you clothes, taking you to football and to the park - and playing with your brother - won't you miss all that?"

He thought about it. "I'll come back to visit , " he said, "And I'll come back for Christmas."

"But what happens if your new family move away - or we do?" I asked him.

He thought about it - but didn't have an answer, then KC popped his head around the door, he'd obviously been listening in. "You're not really going are you?" he asked his brother. Even in KC's mind it was a real possibility that his younger brother could leave.

"He's coming down for lunch," I told him deciding this conversation was coming to an end.

We had lunch and at the end of it TJ made his announcement."I've decided to stay," he declared, "because Daddy is the bestest cook in the world."

This morning he shot out of bed with a spring! "It's advent!" he shouted, "Where's my calendar - I want to eat chocolate!!!!"

So the way to man's heart is definately via his stomch!!!!!!

The Unexpected Post...

Today's post was supposed to be about the success of National Adoption Week, about the National Adoption Awards and the fun we had followed by a successful presentation to would be adopters with the LGBT group Spectrum at Barclays.

I say supposed to be...

As I was putting my notes together this morning there was knock at the door - the postman - he usually delivers the registered letters and parcels for everyone in the street to me, as I'm the only one at home all day. We joke that I run the sorting office for the entire street. Its not a funny joke but we make it every time.

But this time I had to sign for a letter for myself and Dylan (I'm using his name now - so he doesn't feel like chopped liver). I sat down and opened it and onto the kitchen counter fell a picture of a beautiful little girl. I then opened the rest of the letter. I didn't need to read it. I knew who it was.

It was the first picture we had seen of the boys' sister in nearly 5 years - the only picture we had previously was one in their life story book of a grinning baby.

As I said in a previous post, the social workers had managed to misplace our contact agreements and as far as the sister's family knew we didn't want to have anything to do with them. However, that has all been resolved and we agreed to swap photos and letters once a year. I had sent mine off last month and today theirs arrived.

It was a lovely photo of a beamingly happy little girl who was the mix of both of her brothers - she had KC's incredible hair colour - the hairdresser is always telling him that 'people pay to have their hair coloured like yours!" and TJ's cheeky little grin.

I looked at the photo of the little girl with a fat dog in her lap and cried. I just cried - ridiculous - but there it is.

I am one of three - myself, my brother and our baby sister - just like our kids. My only thought was - what would have happened if my brother and I had been separated from our sister (whom I love dearly).  We are even similar in age gaps.

Of course, the sister is completely happy and probably blissfully unaware of two brothers she has never met - but to the boys? I'm not sure - they know about her. We have talked about her and they have asked after her. Now we shall sit down with them and chat about this picture and how happy she is without yet knowing if and when they can meet - and should they meet? Would it be more damaging? Are we going to get family jealousy - 'Why didn't I live with her parents?' etc - is this constant sense of insecurity peculiar to adoptive parents alone?

I'm forever concerned that my boys will one day wake up and realise that I'm a fraud and have no idea how to be a parent.

As National Adoption Week has focussed on siblings this week I think it is also pertinent to look at those that can't be together and the incredible job of the adoptive parents to manage that contact - as was said at the awards on Tuesday, brothers and sisters are all we have once our parents have gone - they are our immediate family and that bond will and should always remain.

To be honest, I don't really speak to my brother now - he distanced himself when the adoption went through - whatever his reasons are I know one day we will all need each other again.

But for now...

I think I want another child...

Maybe I'm just being sentimental...

Maybe...

A Rose By Any Other Name...

"What would my name be if I was really yours?"

This was the question KC gave me just before he got into bed last night.

I was suddenly stumped - why do kids always ask these things at bedtime? Do they really want an answer? Is it something that has been troubling them all day? Or do they simply not want to go to bed?

My guess was that this was something thay had been on his mind for a while and he was waiting for the right time.

I sat on the end of the bed - preparing for a long discussion.

"Well, the first thing to get out of the way," I began, "Is that you are 'really' ours - you're not going anywhere, this is your family and we love you very much. Okay?"

"Okay" he replied, "I know all that but if you had me as a baby then what would you have called me - what is your favourite name?"

"I think KC suits you," I said, "It's the name your birth mum chose and it suits you - she didn't get everything wrong, she got some things right. Like you and TJ. She got both of you right."

I wasn't sure if I was making sense to him.

"Yes," he said, "I know that but what would you have called me if you first saw me as a baby in a hospital?" (Hospitals are where babies come from, apparently.)

"I really like KC," I said.

"No you don't," he replied, "It's not the sort of name our family has."

That was incredibly astute of him. Our family is full of Joseph's and Freddie's, Marcus's and Rachel's. Good old fashioned traditional names, whereas he and TJ have more 'modern' names - thank goodness they didn't ask about their original middle names which sounded as if they had come straight out of an edition of Heat Magazine. I try not to be a name snob but I do think that a name that suits a celebrity's child who attends a public school in Harrow is not going to sound quite the same when yelled across the playground at the local junior school. But that's probably just me.

Interestingly when the children were baptised and chose their own new middle names, they both picked more traditional ones.

I told KC that he could use his middle name if he liked, after all he chose it.

"I don't want to," he said, "I just want to know what you and Papa would have called me if I had been born to you."

I gave in, "Alright," I said, "When we were thinking about names, before we even knew about you, we had always said that we liked Ben for a boy and Beatrice (after my grandmother not Prince Andrew's eldest) for a girl. Interestingly, I later found out that my Gran hated her name, which is why she always shortened it to Bea - so KC is not alone in his dislike of his given name - but his reasoning is probably different.

"You can change me name to Ben if you like," he said, "I don't mind."

My heart went out to him. Was his sense of self so low that he was willing to change his name just to please us?

I cuddled him, "Look," I said softly, "There's a very famous play called Romeo and Juliet and in that play Juliet asks if she should stop loving Romeo just because of his name and she says, '... a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet' (I'm sure I paraphrased a little) and that means that no matter what we call a rose - we could call it a 'widgy' or a 'smellybum' - it would still smell the same and still be as beautiful. So it doesn't matter what your name is - you are still beautiful and still lovely and still very, very smelly!"

That got a laugh out of him.

I tucked him in.

'So," I said, "You will always be KC and we will always love you. Now go to sleep."

He sat up again. I braced myself.

'Daddy," he said.

"Yes," I held my breath.

"Is there a heaven?"

My guess was this was the sort of bedtime question designed to prevent lights out...

I looked at him. "If you don't go straight to sleep," I said, "You'll soon find out."

I don't think he got it - but he went to sleep anyway - whilst I poured a drink!

Adoption is hard work!!!!

Presentations, Tumble Dryers and... Kylie...

Yesterday, Dylan and I were asked to give a presentation to a group of adoption professionals.

When we agreed we thought it would be a small, informal affair - the sort of thing we are used to doing - chatting to would be adopters about our experiences. But a couple of nights before we were told by the organiser that we should pass her our powerpoint presentation and a transcript of the speech... what?!

I had intended to 'wing it' but that wasn't going to be possible. There were going to be a lot of important people there from adoption social workers, to senior family judges and head of adoption charities. Suddenly it was very scary!

So we worked over the weekend (my birthday weekend) and put together a half hour talk accompanied by various images and 'bullet points' - Dylan likes bullet points...

We turned up at Somerset House, a beautiful historical venue in the heart of London - although we were an hour late due to a nasty traffic jam - although we had missed a couple of other speakers we weren't on until later - that didn't stop my heart from beating at a furious pace though.

Eventually we went up and stood in front of this large group of people.

I said my opening lines, 'Good morning, my name is James and this is my partner Dylan... I talk a lot - he doesn't - you might say he's the Bobby to my Cilla...' (I have no idea where that last bit came from - it wasn't scripted but it went down really well). I had huge laugh - I don't think there had been much to laugh about before then. I went on saying how we chose our adoption agency after being turned down by so many purely on the basis that they offered us cake - this also seemed to go down well. After that the script was out of the window and we chatted openly about our experiences, about the ups and downs of adopting siblings and the help they needed - especially the input they required post adoption. As I said, just because the adoption order is signed doesn't mean that any of the problems miraculously disappear...

We spoke (yes, Dylan spoke too) for a good 45 minutes and sat down to a nice round of applause whilst the next speaker came on to talk about data input... as he was sorting out his powerpoint I was asked if I would like to sing something, maybe by Cilla - I was sorely tempted...

We couldn't stay after lunch (childcare is still not really an option for TJ) but we also didn't get to eat anything as so many people wanted to chat with us.

This morning I received a lovely couple of emails from speakers who followed us, both saying how they had changed their prepared speeches in order to reflect on what we had said and to continue to press issues that we had raised - mainly about the availability of good therapy and proactive post adoption support. All too often these areas only come into being when the adoption reaches a crisis.

We came home last night exhausted when Papa passed me a little red envelope - a belated birthday present.

I had made the mistake of saying that we needed a tumble dryer a few days ago and saw Papa frantically tapping away online. So I expected the gift to be the delivery date for the dryer. I have had numerous white good for birthdays before - I once got a Hoover because I 'admired it in the shop window' - I now only 'admire' Bulgari... not that any of that has come my way.

Still I was surprised to see that the envelope didn't contain a receipt for a tumble dryer but instead there were two tickets for tonight's concert by Kylie Minogue at London's O2.

I don't think I looked particularly overwhelmed as Papa said, "But it's not a tumble dryer and we're going to stay the night in a hotel - I've even arranged for the baby sitter to stay over."

Maybe I'm just too old for concerts now... eek! Maybe I just don't like surprises anymore - there is something to be said for anticipation... or maybe I just looked at the huge pile of washing I'm trying to get dry... and wished I had a tumble dryer...

I can be quite difficult to please sometimes...

Pulping the Penguins

I've been thinking about whether or not to write this post for a few days now.

I decided to let my anger subside and then write it with a more open mind - unfortunately, the longer I leave it the worse the situation seems to get.

We are off to Singapore shortly to see the boy's Grandparents and Aunt, Uncle and cousins. Our boys love going to Singapore and they get very excited about seeing their family over there but this trip has already been tainted by the goings on being widely reported in the media and across social media websites.

If you haven't heard the Singapore National Library and Media Development Agency have taken the strange decision to ban all books which do not fulfil the right wing Christian and, to some extent, Muslim groups ideals of a perfect family. These books, such as 'Tango Makes Three', "White Swan Express" and today I heard that 'Lets' Talk About Where Babies Come From" have been removed and pulped for not promoting the family (by recognising that familes of different types occur) and for possibly corrupting young children should they walk into a public space and begin reading such books without parental supervision.

Although it should be noted that "Let's Talk ABout Where Babies Come From" (which in the USA is called 'Its So Amazing' is actually a reference book aimed at parents and educators looking for a child friendly way in which to answer the difficult questions about sex when children bring it up. It is told in a child friendly way but is definately not supposed to be read by the child by themselves. So, in effect, this would be the first adult book that the MDA have removed. Obviously, adults need protecting from corruption as well, particularly as the book contains one page about adopted familes and same sex relationships...

At first glance the whole story seems a bit of a storm in a teacup - even Papa (who is Singaporean) dismissed it saying, "Who uses libraries nowadays?"

And that would probably be true had the Singaporean Government not then lent their support to the ban (bearing in mind that both the Library and MDA come under government juristiction in one of the most censored countries in the world). Obviously, if the government rejected the removal of these books they would be rejecting one of their own organisations policies. The NLB spokesperson stated; "NLB’s understanding of family is consistent with that of the Ministry of Social and Family Development and the Ministry of Education."

So, in a nutshell, the Singapore government has blatantly stated that it is now ok to discriminate against any family that is deemed to be not of the social 'norm.' I maybe overstating it but thats certainly how things appear. It would also seem to include single parent families and all adopted families.

So that raises the question then of 'where does our family fit in?". Our boys are proud to call themselves half British, half Singaporean - even though it would appear that Singapore does not want them.

When we go back to Singapore are they to be barred from talking to other children for fear that they may corrupt them. Will Papa and I be able to walk down the street holding our children's hands without being spat upon - seriously, if you read some of the comments the so called 'Christian' and 'Muslim' groups are espousing on their various social media platformsthat would seem to be the next step.

Of course, we know it is just a minority who have these views and our friends and family will welcome us with open arms - but what is worrying is how much weight this minorty view is being given. And what happens if, God forbid, anything should happen and we have to relocate back to Singapore - will our family even be recognised - our partnership wouldn't be so how would that effect the adoption? Thats actually a scary thought.

After our last trip to Singapore and my comments on how much more open it has become as a society this seems to show that Singapore has once again taken a step back into the dark ages.

On a more positive note - just as the anti gambling ads which ran in Singapore showing a  desperately sad, small boy hoping that Germany would win the World Cup as his Dad had placed all his savings on them (that backfired) so, hopefully, this will help me in my quest to sell the book version of the blog - as my lovely agent said on Monday - 'Its all pretty petty what's going on in Singapore at the moment, and very sad, but it will definately help book sales!"

So here's hoping the Singapore governemtn slap a ban on my work as soon as its published!

IDAHOT 14

I can't beleive that its been a year since the last IDAHO - time flies, now, of course it's IDAHOT., the International Day Against Homophobia and Transphobia.

I was wracking my brains thinking of a topic to tie in with the themes of education and homophobia when Papa asked if I could write about a subject dear to his heart - the acceptance of family.

It all came about because one of his friends had been telling him about the fact that his son was gay and that he was now in a long term relationship. The father was concerned because he felt his son was going to miss out on so much of family life and, also, that he was never going to experience the joy of being a grandparent.

Over the past year or so, since they've been friends, the son has gone onto get engaged to his partner and the father has, through his friendship with Papa, seen that a gay relationship can still result in a happy family life - albeit a different one from the one he may have expected for his son. He is a regular reader of the blog and that in turn helped him to see that our family is really no different from any other - we just handle certain things creatively..

Papa then went on to talk about his own family. How in Chinese culture being gay is just something that is not talked about. He was open with his parents from a very young age but, I suppose, like many other parents, not just Asian ones, they were hoping it was just a phase or that he would eventually meet the right girl. Of course, he never did and when I came along his parents, and family, had to accept the fact that we were a couple and that they were probably never going to have grandchildren to carry on their family name. We soon changed that...

As society changes so attitudes change and Papa's parents welcome us all to the family home and accept their two 'ang moh' grandchildren as if they were their own flesh and blood. Indeed the boys both refer to the Asian cousins as 'Cousin...." and 'Cousin....' thus emphasising their role in their family lives. The boys recently had a vote on their favourite cousin (I overheard them) and the Little Prince won - mainly because he was a boy and serving in the Singapore Armed Forces (sorry little princess - but I'm sure it will change, and anyway at least you came second!)

My own parents were pretty ok about my 'coming out' - my Dad said it wasn't the best news he had all year, when I told him, but it wasn't the worse. My mother did that thing of telling me she knew all along - "Great," I said, "Then why didn't you tell me!" It would have saved a lot of heartache and anxiety on my part.

I listen to children in the playground now, particularly in secondary schools, discussing gay role models, such as Tom Daley or gay characters in their favourite TV shows, openly. Whatever their opinions may be, at least there is discussion. Yes, there is prejudice and yes this needs to be addressed, but things are moving in the right direction.

As I prepare my book for publication (hopefully) people ask if I am ok with being so open about our family life - but if we aren't open then who will be? Change comes from people not being afraid of what may happen. Hopefully, we can help to dispel that 'fear' of the scary gay agenda - I hate that phrase!

By looking at our family hopefully, some people have lost their fear of 'gay' parenting. I don't think we preach, we just tell it like it is. If our opening up our lives helps people to understand about the 'modern family' then it has to be a good thing.

So today's post is about openness in family - after all if we can't be open with them then how can we be open with the rest of the world.

Whos' Going?

That was a question that completely took me by surprise yesterday... let me elaborate.

Yesterday I had had enough of the puppy. Puppies are very cute - they have lovely faces and gorgeous eyes. They like to be cuddled and sit on your lap licking your fingers - they are beautiful.

They also poo and wee on everything. A lot! And ours is no exception...

Yesterday, I needed to get some work done. I needed to sit and write and also to revise for my upcoming exam - my second years end of years exams in Psychology. I haven't taken an exam in 20years... I'm very scared!

But, my tutor reassured me, set out a revision timetable and stick to it. A little bit a day is better than cramming. Add into the mix a looming deadline for the book and an accompanying proposal and you can see why I saw a full day of being able to work at home as a blessing.

The puppy saw it differently. She saw it as a full day of having me at home - someone to play with.

So I took her out for not one but two long walks - to tire her out. They didn't.

I kept an eye on her all day, making sure she didn't chew anything dangerous and putting her outside at regular intervals to do her 'business'.

Every time of course I put her outside, she wouldn't go - opting to do her business on the floor as soon as I brought her in. I soon stank of disinfectant.

By the time the boys came home from school she had wee'd and poo'd on everything and I had managed to get very little work done. The boys promised they would watch her whilst they watched some TV.

They didn't.

I heard, "Daddy, the puppy's poo'd on the rug."

I came downstairs in a rage. "I've had enough," I bellowed, "You are going back!" I pointed at the now contrite puppy.

"Who's going back?" KC asked.

"The puppy," I said , still not comprehending what he meant.

"Oh, I thought you were sending me or TJ away," he said quietly, "That's what grown ups do when they get bored of children, they send them back into care."

I was astounded. Where had this come from?

KC didn't seem upset or anything, he said it as if this was just a normal thing to expect.

"What do you mean?" I asked, "no-one is sneding anyone away, I'm just cross with the puppy, that's all."

"If no-on sent their children into care then there wouldn't be anyone for you to adopt," KC went on, "I'm just saying..." (thats his phrase of the week).

I looked at TJ who was staring at me from over the arm of the sofa.

I sighed. "No-one is sending anyone away, sometimes I get mad at the puppy but no matter how mad I get I would never send you away. Do you understand?"

"But would you send the puppy away?" TJ asked.

"Of course not, " I replied, "I just need to housetrain her thats all."

"Did you have to housetrain me?" TJ said.

"No, " I replied, 'Luckily you did that bit yourself." I didn't mention the mess on the toilet floor i cleaned up this morning...

I made a note to watch what I say. It seems strange that after over three years with us they still don't fully believe that this is their 'forever' home - whatever forever means to an 8 year old? But we just have to keep reassuring them and, hopefully, one day it will stick...

Oh well, it looks as though the puppy is staying after all...

Reality Show...

KC has been making great use of his i-pad. He has discovered the video function which means that he is constantly filming.

It's like living in our own reality show - everytime I turn a corner there he is filming the next part of our exploits as a family.

This would be ok if we were constantly doing lots of fun things and maybe had a theme tune and a laugh track that spontaneously cuts in every time one of us says something vaguely amusing - which doesn't happen very often.

But no - KC just films us getting on with life - then makes comments as he does so. He films as if he is talking to his viewer. For instance whilst filming TJ playing with his cars KC is telling the viewer, "Here is my dumb brother playing with his baby toys - he only likes cars and football - he doesn't like anything I like.. but he is my brother so I have to put with him."

TJ, of course, then slams the door in his brother's face - which I'm sure made for a great end of scene.

I was cooking the Sunday lunch (a very British tradition) when I noticed the i-pad being pointed in my direction. 'Do it like a cooking show?" KC directs me ( I say direct - it was kind of like being directed by a nazi stormtrooper) - But I'm happy to oblige and doing my best Jamie/Nigella impression I talk us through the peeling of potatoes and washing of veg before making Yorkshire puddings and basting the roast pork. He gets pretty bored after about 5 minutes. (I wonder why the preparation doesn't make it into most cookery shows - just lots of shots of the celebrity chef telling us how great their food is accompanied by suitable noises). But KC has lost concentration already... 'Now sing,' he says.

I suddenly felt like I was there purely for his entertainment - but being the consummate professional I obliged and sang as I cooked. To be honest, I was having quite a bit of fun and am safe in the knowledge that we don't allow internet access on his ipad, so I know it won't end up on You Tube later this week.

Finally, I asked him to lay the dining table - he wasn't too happy about this and made his feelings well known. "I'm only asking you to do one thing," I said, "You can go back to you filming straight after."

Then I added, "Why are you filming so much anyway?"

He looked at me and then said, "I want to remember you when you are dead."

Sigh...

I remember talking to my fantastic therapists about this once, KC's obsession with death, and their feeling was that he brought it up so often because he was afraid of losing me and Papa and the only way he could seek re-assurance was to talk about our deaths so we could then tell him we weren't going anywhere just yet.

I thought about this and realised that for all the progress we have made (and its a huge amount) there will always be these worries in the back of his mind - abandonment is a huge issue for many adopted children.

I put my vegetables down and went over and gave him a big hug - "I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet," I resassured him.

He looked at me and smiled his cheeky grin, "Then I guess I still have to lay the table," he said...

I guess we will have to think of a theme tune for our show now...

It's Hard to Say Goodbye...

This weekend we took Granny home after her fortnight Easter stay with us.

Whilst it's always lovely to have Granny (although maybe not her ASBO dog) it's always sad to have to say goodbye. But as my Mum refuses to drive down to us (she hates the M25 london orbital motorway - or car park as we call it) I have to go and pick her up and take her home again. Unless she opts to come down on the train - although that would mean putting her 'beloved' hound in kennels for the duration of her trip. Something she refuses to do - and as asbo dog hates the cat - we have to put our cat in the cattery for the period of time when asbo dog is here - although I think the cat is glad of the rest.

This time it was the rabbit which bore the brunt of asbo dog's 'curious' nature (she's just playing, apparently) - and poor rabbit was 'yapped at' for hours on end. By the end of the trip even my mum said that next time she might have to put her dog in the kennel - or maybe we could send the rabbit away too. At this rate we will all be in a hotel somewhere whilst Mum and her pooch live it up in our house.

Anyway, KC decided to join me on the trip back to Granny's this time. He was very well behaved. He has discovered 'High School Musical' and watched the show three times whilst singing along to all the songs - this would be fine except he is listening to it on his headphones whilst watching the DVD - so any sense of tune is completely lost - a little like the show really.

Well, we spent a lovely weekend at Mum's and even took my Nanny (nearly 91) out for Sunday lunch... except she didn't want sunday lunch as she is on a diet so had a salmon starter followed by a raspberry pavlova (cream's not fattening apparently).

We then took her home and took mum back to say our goodbyes before making the four hour trip home.

As we were saying goodbye, KC grabbed hold of Granny, gave her a big kiss and said, "I hate saying goodbye - but I'm getting better at it."

I thought Mum was going to cry and she gave him the biggest hug ever!

But KC has always hated goodbyes - before he wouldn't even come down the stairs if someone was leaving preferring to hide in his room and we would have to force him into saying his goodbyes. I guess it comes from the idea that everytime he said goodbye as a young boy, whether it was to his birth mum, birth grandparents, foster carer's, social workers - whoever... whenever he said 'goodbye' it really was a goodbye - not a 'see you soon' or 'until next time' but a full on, proper 'goodbye'.

I don't think many 9 year olds will have said as many 'proper' goodbyes as he has... but now he is getting used to the idea that goodbye doesn't necessarily mean forever....

April Fools Day

So my April Fools this year were a little sparse.

Its normally one of my favourite days - although those around me may say different.

But yesterday I aimed my 'humorous gags' at my children.

In the morning I informed them that I would be collecting their new pet - a pet with the head of a fish, the body of a monkey and the feet of a kangaroo - it was called a Lirpa Loof. TJ was a little wary - "If it has feet like a kangaroo," he said, "Won't it be very bouncy?" He already thinks the new puppy is too bouncy.

"No," I replied, "you can train them to walk not hop."

He thought about this and then told me he would ask his teacher if she had seen one before. After the previous weekend his teacher should be feeling too sheepish to disagree with anything I say. TJ has already started bedwetting again and I am due to see said teacher tomorrow - my guess is she will keep trying to put me off until the Easter break. She doesn't know me very well...

Anyway, back to my story.  KC was simply excited - he loves all animals and a Lirpa Loof sounded great fun.

As I took him to his school but I also reminded him that today was 'hug a teacher day," and he had better make sure he hugs all his teachers as soon as he sees them. I don't think he fell for that one...

I picked them up from school later - they were both excited to see their new pet, which I had told them I had collected before 12. I took them home and presented them with a pack with the words "Lirpa Loof' written on it. These were their pet documents. They ran into the garage to look for the new animal.

I let them look for a few minutes before I asked them to spell out the words Lirpa Loof backwards... They were not impressed. KC scowled at me and told me 'he knew all along.' Oddly, TJ looked relieved. Both boys sulked - which made for a quiet evening.

I decided to move onto another target. Many years ago one of my best friends made a movie in Singapore - I told him via Whats App that it had been selected for release across the US and Canada as part of their Asian season. He later told me that even after checking online he couldn't find the details. I told him it was my mistake it was actually scheduled for release on the same date next year - now that's the way to keep a good April Fool going!

Parent Evenings and Puppies

Its been a busy few days - as you will see,

Last week was parents evening for both boys. Both boys are doing so well - I nearly cried, one set of teachers did - but it was so comforting to know that by putting the boys into different schools we were in fact helping them to progress and move on from their past experiences.

TJ went first. He was concerned that his teacher would tell me the truth. And she did... He was doing really well. He had matured much more since his brother moved on to the other school. There were no more breakdowns or tantrums and, as such, his reading was almost at his chronological level and he was making such progress in his maths that he was actually ahead of where he was supposed to be. His English was another matter but that will come - he was so proud of himself.

On Friday it was KC's turn. I went out to his independent school and had an hour long chat with his teachers. The session opened with 'Well, he's certainly not Perfect Peter..." I must have looked downfallen as she quickly added "but his progress is nothing short of miraculous." He had settled, wasn't messing around and, despite his learning issues, was progressing. He talked about being adopted and living with Daddy and Papa - he even gave a short presentation to his class about his experiences - as the teacher told me she started to cry. "He is so happy to have you two," she said. That was it all three teachers were crying. I took them back to the matter in hand - his education. Of course, he's nowhere near the 'average' yet but he is on his way. They also pointed out that his future education was something we had to think about as KC, in their opinion, wouldn't be able to cope if we put him back into a class of 30 when the time comes. I had to break that news to Ppa over the weekend. He took it very well - considering...

I know we have been accused of creating a 'social experiment' with the two boys - but in reality our (and their) lives are so much easier and make much more sense. We didn't split them up (as was suggested by numerous social workers) but by enabling them to live their own lives independently but still come together as brothers afterwards, I think we have given them the space to grow.

Of course, we are lucky that we can (just about) afford to do this and hopefully, one day the boys will thank us for it.

So, as a treat we took the boys horse riding at the weekend - we have a great equine therapy stables a short drive away and the way the boys have interacted with the animals has been brilliant. TJ wasn't keen to ride, I think he needs to be reminded how it all works, but KC was off and away.

Afterwards we went to see the therapist's dog - who had a litter of puppies. One puppy leapt into KC's lap and then ran around chasing TJ. The boys were so happy. Of course there followed a 'Can we have the puppy?" pleading session. Papa said we needed to think about it - so they immediately turned their pester power onto me - after all I'm usually the one who gives in. But I had 'the look' off Papa so knew I had better agree with him.

Anyway, that whole evening was spent chatting to the boys about how it would be their dog, how I would have to look after our older dog (who I'm sure will be glad of the break) and that they would have to walk her and feed her and pick up her poop etc.

KC thought about it and said, "Well, it is a lot of responsibility, so I'm not sure - I'll have to think about it."

TJ just wanted a puppy.

Next morning KC came into our room and said, "I've thought about it and I think I'm ready for a puppy. But I want to help pay for it." He then offered Papa all of his 'ang pow' from Chinese New Year - he had about £50 left.

I nearly cried. But true to his word, Papa agreed and as of Sunday night we became the proud owners of a new cockerpoo, who the boys have named Gracie - after her mother (as its Mother's Day this week) but that's another post...

Fantasy Fitter

Ok so today isn't directly about family life - well, maybe it is a little bit...

Today we have the builders in. We are having some work done on our house to correct some damage caused by the winter storms - we spent 4 days over Christmas with no power and leaking windows.

But finally today all was to be finished off and we were to have a couple of new carpets fitted to replace the damaged ones.

The builders came and had their tea and then set to work. Then the carpet fitter arrived.

I opened the front door and it was as if everything went into slow motion, he smiled and I melted. He was gorgeous! I couldn't help but think of the guy from the movie The Proposal with Sandra Bullock, I couldn't remember his name (I googled it later - Ryan Reynolds) but at that moment in time I didn't care. It was as if my whole life had suddenly turned into a diet coke ad - I wished it was bit hotter so the shirt would have to come off (his not mine) but it wasn't, so I toyed with the idea of turning up the thermostat to tropical proportions and seeing if that had any effect.

"Can I get you a cup of tea?" I stammered, suddenly feeling about 15 again.

"Just water," he replied. "Just water!" Maybe he wanted to throw it over himself and reveal his chest through the thin white t-shirt that clung to his masculine frame - well, if he didn't then I would quite happily trip and 'spill' it over him. Maybe I could help him dry off?

I came back to earth with a crash. The 'other' builder was asking for another cup of tea. I'd forgotten he was even there.

"I wish I was gay," the 'other' builder suddenly said. "I wouldn't then have to put up with women, they're all 'f***ing nutters!" I was a bit taken aback. He had obviously been scarred by someone - but right now I wasn't in the mood to be Dear Deirdre, I was in the mood to be whatever the carpet fitter wanted!

"I don't think that being gay changes that," I said, not sure where this conversation was going.

"No but if I was gay then I wouldn't have to put up with my b**** of an ex-wife. In fact, I'm quite willing to give being gay a go if it gets her out of my life!"

I was wondering if he was coming on to me - Now don't get me wrong, I don't think I'm God's gift to gay mankind or anything like that but this was definately taking an odd turn.

"Oh well," I reassured him, "I'm sure you'll find the right girl soon." And  made him his third cup of tea which he then drank whilst telling me all his troubles - I obviously was in the mood to be Dear Deirdre, I just hadn't realised it.

A little later I rushed upstairs to see if Ryan (I've decided that's his name) wanted more water. He didn't. I was rapidly turning into a seventies pastiche of the bored housewife - I would soon be donning mules and a frilly bed jacket to tempt him (images of Dick Emery sprang to mind - so I didn't).

"Thats all done," he said in his deep masculine tone - I was ready to sign any Fifty Shades type 'agreement' with him there and then. "You've got a lovely family," he nodded towards a picture of the four of us. (Bugger, why had I left that out) "Thanks," I muttered.

Then he left - carpets duly fitted. Although everytime I look at them there will be a wistful sigh.

Tonight is TJ's teacher meeting - so if that doesn't bring me back to reality with a bang, then I don't know what will. When I reminded him I was coming into school his reply was, "No Daddy, then she'll tell you what I'm really like!"

Sigh...

We're Giving Up What for Lent!!!!!!!?????

That was the response I got from both boys when I informed them last night that we wouldn't be having dessert at dinner as we were giving it up for Lent.

"Why", KC asked, "Why do we have to give anything up?"
"Because Jesus did," I replied.
"He gave up his desserts?" asked TJ incredulously.
"No, he gave up all food and went into the desert for 40days and nights," I said.
"So he didn't give up his dessert then?" TJ looked confused.
The penny dropped,
"Not dessert - he went into the desert, its an entirely different thing." I told him.

"So why do we have to give anything up?" said KC - he is rapidly sounding less like a 9 year old and more like Kevin the Teenager, Harry Enfield's comic character from the 80's (that ages me!)

"Well,' I said desperately trying to justify my sudden decision - which to be honest, was based purely on the fact that I haven't been shopping since we came home and I had been listening to Radio 4 about the perils of sugar in a child's diet - hence my snap decision to give up dessert for Lent. "Well, Jesus gave it up so he could be at one with God."

I felt my Sunday school teacher (and my Mum) might be pleased with this answer.

"Why didn't he just go to church?" came the reply, "Why did he give up everything and go into the dessert."

"Desert," I corrected him. "Because its in the Bible and we had pancakes yesterday which means Lent starts today.

"What's Lent," TJ asked.

"Its where we have to give up dessert because Daddy's too lazy to make anything," his brother told him.

"There's plenty of fruit," I said, luckily Abel and Cole had delivered as usual that week (I know its horribly middle class to use them but thank goodness we had or we would have all starved - which is probably more in line with the original meanings behind Lent)

"We don't want fruit!" they both cried in unison.

"Well, thats all there is." I told them in my 'kind but firm voice'.

KC looked at his brother, "Ive got a packet of sweets under my bed," he said, "Do you want to share them?"

"Yay," cried TJ," and the two of them skipped upstairs.

I don't know whether to be proud that they are sharing (for once) or annoyed because they have blatantly disregarded me... I guess I'll just pour a glass of red - I'm definately not giving that up for Lent!

An 'Inspirational Post' for LGBT Adoption and Fostering Week

When I was asked to contribute to the BAAF blogpost for LGBT Adoption and Fostering Week, I was also asked if I could make it ‘inspirational’ – “No problem,” I said, “If you need an inspirational piece about being a gay parent then I’m your man!”

Then I sat down to write. But as soon as I sat at the keyboard my youngest son, TJ, decided that now was a good time to tell me that he needed an alien costume for school – tomorrow! Of course, he hadn’t told me when school did, two weeks ago, and, of course, he had lost the letter telling panicked parents exactly what the plans for ‘Alien Day’ were.

So I did what any good parent would do – I got on Facebook and messaged other parents at the school to find out what I needed to do.

“It can be anything, a robot, an alien, an astronaut – the theme is space and you can either rent a costume or make one – but there was a big ‘no’ if you thought you could simply paint your child’s face green and send them in ‘normal clothes – the school wants authenticity!”

I thought that if any alien came to Earth then surely they would do as much as possible to blend in and I was half tempted to send TJ to school in uniform with a note explaining our point of view… Or was I just being lazy?

So we pulled out cardboard boxes and tin foil, paper glue and toilet roll tubes – I felt like I was finally becoming the Blue Peter presenter I had always dreamed of being.

Two hours later my happy little boy was dressed as a cardboard robot and we had had a great time making it together.

Now I had to go back to writing this piece whilst he walked around me shouting ‘exterminate’ and zapping the unsuspecting dog with his ‘laser gun’ (A toilet roll with a lolly stick as a handle).

I couldn’t help but smile at him and at the joy on his face.

And that was my inspiration for this piece.

Gay parenting is no different to parenting. You will experience the same highs, the same lows – yes, adopted children have many more issues but they also bring as much joy.

Don’t be afraid of being a parent. There will be curious stares at the school gate, particularly if, like us, you don’t live in London, there will be difficult conversations about why you are not married to a woman and asking if you and Papa are brothers. You will have all that and my advice is always to be honest, if they are old enough to ask then they are old enough to be told the truth.

But at the end of the day (a horrid cliché I know) it’s the actual having of a family that is the inspiration and I can only hope that by raising awareness of LGBT Adoption and Fostering that more children will be brought into safe, loving, homes where they can experience something that every child has a right to – a loving family.

I hope that’s inspirational enough!

Fisrt published on the BAAF Website : http://www.baaf.org.uk/blog/inspirational-post

Tidyness and Tardiness

The Sprog is upset with out cleaner. Her sin?

She has tidied his room! How dare she! Now he can't find anything... apparently. Although to be honest how the cleaner found her way into his room is beyond me, I could barely see the floor!

Out cleaner is lovely, barking mad but lovely. She is Turkish and as regular readers know has a love for popular european music. This has rubbed off onto our youngest and TJ now insists that we play the latest hit 'tune's and wants to know what the number one song is on a daily basis.

I don't mind but whenever he plays one of the latest tracks from the hit parade I immediately turn into my parents and go on about what rubbish this is. The Sprog on the other hand has rifled through my CD collection and has 'borrowed' all my Michael Jackson albums. And this was the root of his problem with the cleaner as she had tidied the albums up and put them back where they belong, on my CD shelf.

Still I prefer him listening to MJ than having to listen to 1D (as I now call them-  see I'm down with the kids!).

I also seemed to channel my parents this morning when TJ decided he really didn't want to hurry to school. He dawdled, he played with his feet, he carefully munched on every single sodding cornflake as I got more and more harrassed. Didn't he know we were going to be late.

As we finally headed out the door he stopped and said, "Daddy, I need a poo!"

"What?!" I screamed - "Why now, why wait until we are leaving?"

"I don't know," he shrugged.

So I stood outside the bathroom door hurrying him along.

He eventually came out and we left for school. Except he fancied a long slow walk admiring the trees and commenting on the lovely day as I was screaming "Come on!" and dragging an unwilling dog behind me.

We got to the school gate just as they closed.

"Great," I said, "Now we have to walk all the way round to the front of the school and I have to sign you in at reception with all the other 'shamed' parents."

Did TJ care... no he did not. "What will they do if I am late?" he said, "They won't do anything." and off he dawdled.

As he did so the gate keeper saw us and returned to open the gate. "You are lucky," she said to TJ, "I saw you just in time."

TJ skipped into school.

"Isn't there an incentive to get them in on  time," I asked "Don't they get a punishment if they are late?"

"No," she said, "So many of them are late now we'd be filling out forms all day." and she walked off.

Now I turned into my Dad who hated being late - how will future generations like my own kids understand about punctuality if no-one teaches it at school? No wonder TJ doesn't give a monkey's if he is late or not - why should he? As I said to Papa when he called later - "There should be no reason for him to have to get up at 5am and make the 90 minute commute into London - he should go when he feels like it... Oh wait, except he'd get fired!"

Now I shall have a cup of tea and piece of delicious banana bread - made by me!

The Wedding - Part 2

So the morning came for the big day itself - Prince William and Kate had nothing on the level of organisation...

We got up in the hotel and went down for breakfast - the wedding wasn't until 1pm and the photographer was coming to the hotel to take pictures of the groom, groomsmen, page boys etc at around midday - so my theory was that the longer we kept TJ out of his formal suits the better -  I would have preferred to change them in the car on the way to the church, but they were required for the pre-wedding photos so that wasn't going to happen.

After breakfast Papa and I went to get changed. The suits were all rental, as most wedding suits are, and we had tried ours on back in February and I knew that I had lost quite a bit of weight since then, so I was a bit worried that my suit would no longer fit - I had even bought a new belt, just in case. I needn't have worried, I got the suit out of the bag marked with my name and put it on. The waist was so tight, I could barely sit down and the waistcoat fitted like a corset - I couldn't even breathe, to say I was gutted was an understatement - 6 weeks of low carbs and no alcohol to actually put weight on. Papa was also having problems, he had to tighten his trousers and his waistcoat needed pinning at the back. 'They've given us the wrong suits!' I shouted, now getting angry. I called the groom, "Have you got our suits with you?" I asked, "No, I gave them to you last night," he replied, 'How drunk were you?" Admittedly I had drunk quite a bit the day before but was pretty sure I had collected the right suits. I checked again, yes the bags definitely had our names on them. I looked at Papa, "I'll have to go to Manchester and change them," I said, "I can't walk my sister down the aisle wearing this." Papa went online to see if there was a branch of the store nearby as I got the children dressed. As I did up TJ's waistcoat it suddenly hit me... "Papa," I said, "try my waistcoat on." He grumpily got off the computer and did so, "It fits perfectly," he said. I took my trousers off and handed them to him, "Lets swap suits." The upshot was that the suits had been labeled the wrong way round, which looking back seems obvious, but when you are juggling your own dress requirements with your kids then you tend to lose all grip on reality....

Properly dressed we went downstairs to get our buttonholes. But there was no buttonhole for me - I was walking my sister down the aisle without a buttonhole. "It's at the house," the Groom's father informed me, "It must have been put with the bridal party." It really wasn't a big issue except the photographer kept asking me to stand behind other members of the party to hide the fact that my buttonhole was missing. So I have a horrible feeling that when the photos come out you will only see my left ear in all the shots.. we shall see... but the TJ met up again with his cousin and the two of them were having a whale of a time. The atmosphere was light and relaxed - and, to cap it all, it was a beautiful sunny day!

After the photographer had finished I rounded up the page boys and headed off to Granny's house to join the bridal party leaving Papa and the grooms party to head off to the church....

I arrived at Granny's house with the very excited boys, suddenly there was a commotion in the back, "Uncle," came a small voice, "I think I need help."I looked in the mirror to see my nephew with the largest amount of snot I have ever seen in a child pouring out of his nose, I didn't have a tissue to hand and it was about to fall onto his new suit. I did what any parent would do, I put my hand out and caught the snot as it fell. Great, now I had to get out of the car making sure that the boys kept clean and that I didn't get my nephew's snot on my own suit. I raced into the house and into the downstairs toilet, and, be sure to take note, here begins the problems - I put my car keys down on the window sill in the toilet as I grabbed for tissues for my nephew and washed my own hands - my own children thought this vision of me juggling snot, keys and tissues was hysterical. I had just finished washing my hands when my nephew turned to me, 'It's happened again,' he said. And sure enough there was another massive globule of snot hanging from his nose - luckily one of the bridesmaids was on hand with a box of kleenex to help us both out...

I washed up again and went into the living room which was abuzz with make up girls, bridesmaids and photographers. I saw my Mum, "Where's your buttonhole?" she cried, "You should be wearing a buttonhole - you can't walk your sister down the aisle like that!" I felt as though I had forgotten my trousers... "Right, let's not panic," I said calmly (calm was to be my word for the day), "I can always take Papa's at the church if needs be - his ushering duties will be over by the time we get there." Problem solved - then I went into the study which my sister was using to get dressed. I opened the door and there she stood in her wedding dress - it was beautiful, she was beautiful - everything was beautiful and, I'm not ashamed to say, I actually welled up. I always wondered why people cried at weddings - now I knew. To say she was stunning is an understatement, her gown was pure silk with a lace overlay and her veil was under a pearl and diamond tiara. I even think she had had a wash...

The boys sat down to watch TV and eat crisps.

We were about to leave when the bridesmaids realised they had to pack all their stuff for the evening, so the taxi driver and I loaded the bridesmaid's mini bus (don't worry the bride had a limo) with all of their luggage - one bridesmaid had just had her baby and the amount of paraphernalia that goes with a new born is phenomenal - but we got it all in - at least we thought we did (again note that for later).

My phone then started to ring, we were now 15 minutes late and the ushers (and I guess the groom) were beginning to panic - the vicar had told us not to be late and it was now 1.15.... we got everyone into the mini bus and Granny, Lea and my nephew headed off in the limo, except TJ who was now best buddies with the photographer and went with her. I helped my sister into the car and got in beside her..

I gave her hand a squeeze, "Happy?" I asked her, 'Really happy," she replied simply, "really happy"... we pulled out of the drive and headed to the church...