Wednesday, 4 June 2014

A More Serious Post... It's just neglect...

Good grief - It's June!

How did that happen?

The year is flying past....

Apologies for not blogging over the past few days but its been half term and I have just sat my second year psychology finals - so its been a busy week. But today I am catching up on ... well, on everything.

Then I came across a message in my email intray asking about my opinion on a statement made by the Head of Christian Concern here in the UK about a sibling pair who had been placed with a gay couple here in sunny Kent. The scope of her ignorance amazed me - and yet it is shared by so many.

Apparently after being told by social services that their two children were to be adopted by a gay couple the, supposedly practising Roman Catholic birth parents, were concerned for their children's well being and argued that they would suffer 'psychological harm' at the hands of their new gay parents. This claim was then backed by Andrea Williams, the Head of Christian Concern who said:

 'We do not know all the details as to why adoption was deemed necessary but leaving that aside, this case raises profound concerns. Why is it not possible to accommodate the beliefs of the natural parents and act in the best interests of the children? Why are these beliefs about marriage, which the government claims are protected, being trampled on? It is causing great present distress to the parents and as they have outlined is likely to cause great distress to the children in the future. Why not seek adoptive parents who share the beliefs of these parents?""

Of course we all have our own views and I thank God every day (yes, we are Christian family) that we live in a tolerant nation that allows everyone to express their own viewpoint - but what was said here was just blatantly mis-informed and the most important part about this story is the part that she wishes to brush under the carpet - 'we do not know all the details why this adoption was deemed necessary but leaving that aside...' - 'leaving that aside'!!!! - that was the statement that made me boil!

I had a call yesterday from a lovely TV producer who wanted to know more about the adoption system and he was stunned by the end of the call - he had no idea things had to be so bad before children were taken into care, and then, once they were, just how difficult it was to find even one child a loving home, let alone a sibling pair. The idea of a 'catalogue' of children waiting for adoption being passed out to approved adopters horrified him - but thats the reality...

Its that word 'neglect' that causes so much confusion.

What is neglect? To a right thinking person 'neglect' is exactly as Ms Williams describes it - not bathing the children, irregular meals, dirty clothes. Of course, in this case we have to add in the fact that these two toddlers were beaten by their parents on a regular basis. But I don't want to talk about just one case.

Even in their own investigations the Government admit that the terms 'neglect' and 'emtional abuse' are poorly defined and cover too many areas. They say that neglect can go on for many years - becoming a 'chronic' condition before the threshold can be reached to bring the children into care.

And this 'threshold' is remarkably high, particularly when used in a social work sense.

I was stunned when I knew what 'neglect' really meant when used in a Social Work sense. It is an all encompassing phrase that covers everything from children being left in their own faeces, often  starving, or peeling wallpaper for food as ours did. It is about children being left for hours on end whilst the parents are at the pub or high. Its children watching their parents inject themselves with the drug of the moment whilst they sit and watch cbeebies, if they are lucky - often its hardcore porn or violent films they are sat watching. It is a horrific term that strikes fear in me whenever I see it - but that's because I'm an adoptive parent. I didn't get my information from the Daily Mail - I got my information from months of adoption preparation, from attending courses, from learning what sorts of background my future children would come from. And we didn't shy away.

Nor did this couple who finally adopted these children. They were brave enough to stay the course, to say "Yes, we will take these children on with all their problems. Yes, we will love them and deal with the incredible mess that these children are thanks to their early years with this horrendous birth family. Yes, we will give everything we have to make these unwanted children happy."

And that's the bottom line - the birth parents, Christian or otherwise, didn't want their children and had the right to parent them removed. I get sick to death of hearing that the children's mummy "loved them very much but she wasn't able to look after them." (which is the line social workers like to tell kids in care). Well, birth parents can choose to change, they can put their children before drugs or alcohol- social services work for years with them getting them help before they eventually take their children.

No-one wants to bring children into care - it has to have reached a point where there is simply no other option in order to keep the children safe. For one thing its too expensive - it costs more to keep a child in care each year than to send them to Eton and for another, we know that the best place for a child is with their birth family - but some people shouldn't have children and when that happens then the children are taken into care. Yet the birth parents still have time to change whilst the courts decide what is best for the child, which can take up to a year. However, if there is still no attempt to change then adoption is the final choice and the search for a suitable family begins. The search for an adoptive family can take years, let alone restrticing that search to a family that will support the birth families religious beliefs. Yet, in reality, these beliefs are commented on in the paperwork (and there is a lot of paperwork) and the propsective adopters are asked to comment on it - the religious beliefs are usually put into the catalogue of 'hard to place' children as well. All of this is taken into consideration when looking for suitable adoptive parents.

But, of course, it is the physical and emotional well being of the child that has to take priority, their spiritual journey is one they will undertake later and will be a choice they ultimately make for themselves.

I did smile when I saw the birth parent's argument which read:

'The children will not be able to be brought up in the Catholic faith because of the conflicts between Catholicism and homosexuality. They would not be able to maintain their Catholic faith if they are adopted by this couple and even if it  was promised that they would attend church the children would at some stage be taught or learn of the attitude of the church to same sex couples. This would undoubtedly be upsetting to them and cause them to be in conflict between their religion and home life.'

Apparently they were in tears as they read it to the court.

Of course, my argument would be that it is the church that is at fault here - for seemingly teaching that it is ok to dismiss the parenting skills of  a loving same sex couple in favour of a hateful heterosexual one who see no harm in their treatment of their children.

So to Ms Williams I say this, you are entitled to your views - but at least make sure you have the full facts before you start making such inflammatory statements.

....

If you are interested then the terms I have used have been taken from the Government's own research and investigation into social services and are printed below and the comments I have used above are from Ms Williams own website. All other views are my own - but I'm guessing you knew that already.

......

Taken from: Safeguarding in Children Services' by Carolyn Davies and Harriet Ward. 2012. Jessica Kingsley Publishers



Neglect is described as:
The persistent failure to meet a child’s basic physical and/or psychological needs, likely to result in the serious impairment of the child’s health or development. Neglect may occur during pregnancy as a result of maternal substance abuse. Once a child is born, neglect may involve a parent or carer failing to:
  • provide adequate food, clothing or shelter (including exclusion from home or abandonment)
  • protect a child from physical and emotional harm or danger
  • ensure adequate supervision (including the use of inadequate caregivers)
  • ensure access to appropriate medical care or treatment.
It may also include neglect of, or unresponsiveness to, a child’s basic emotional needs.


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We have quoted these descriptions in full to demonstrate how comprehensive and detailed they are. yet even with such precise guidelines, professionals find it difficult to identify these types of abuse and to decide when a threshold for action has been reached. The difficulties arise for a number of reasons:
  • Both types of maltreatment are heterogeneous classifications that cover a wide range of issues as is evident from the descriptions above.
  • Both emotional abuse and neglect are chronic conditions that can persist over months and years. Professionals can become accustomed to their manifestations and accepting of the lack of positive change: the serious case review into the death of Peter Connelly, for instance, found that professionals were too accepting of low parenting standards.43 These can include poor supervision resulting in numerous ‘falls’ and bruises; poor cleanliness of the house and poorly cared-for animals; persistent and recurrent infestations such as head lice; loss of weight and failure to thrive; poor dentition; skin problems and nappy rashes; delayed motor and speech development; and self-harm and running away in teenagers.
  • Both types of maltreatment can persist for many years without leading to the type of crisis that demands immediate, authoritative action. Without such a crisis it can be difficult to argue that a threshold for a child protection plan or court action has been reached.
  • Both types of maltreatment are also closer to normative parental behaviour patterns than physical or sexual abuse, in that most parents will, on occasion, neglect or emotionally maltreat their children to a greater or lesser degree. It is the persistence, the frequency, the enormity and the pervasiveness of these behaviours that make them abusive. However, such factors are difficult to pin down with any degree of clarity and this makes it difficult both for practitioners and the courts to determine when a threshold has been reached.

Thursday, 29 May 2014

Hooray for Sports Camp!

'Hooray for Sports Camp!'

That was the cry that went out this morning as the boys got ready to head off to the local primary school to attend a two day half term sports camp. Only the cry came from me. The boys did not want to go...

I was stunned.

They had spent the past three days sitting inside and moaning about ... well, about everything. The weather has been horrible so we haven't been able to go out and do anything we had planned. Throw a bored elderly dog and a hyperactive puppy into the mix and you have a recipe for an incredibly stressful few days. Stressful for all of us.

We did the craft and the colouring and the obligatory jigsaws and the entertainment pack. In the end I resorted to TV to keep them amused. I know thousands of parents the world over have just judged me - I don't care - I needed a break and so did they - TV gave them that. We don't have satellite or cable, just the free to air channels - so they sat watching cartoons, with lengthy commercial breaks that gave them enough time to fight in between.

So I booked them into sports camp. I thought they would be thrilled. They weren't.

KC was on his best behaviour. "What's going on?" I asked him as he helped clear away the breakfast things. ""I'm being good so you don't send me to camp," he said. "You will love it once you are there," I told him. "But I want to stay home and watch TV and play my DS all day. I'll be so quiet you wont even notice I'm here," he promised.

Whilst it's nice to know they want to stay at home, this dad was not for turning. "I've paid for it now," I explained, "And anyway you need to go and run around."

"Do I have to have a packed lunch?" TJ asked, "I don't like packed lunches."

This was the first I was hearing of this - from the sandwich king of the universe.

"Think of it as a picnic," I said.

"What if it rains?" came the smart Alec reply.

"Then its a picnic indoors!" I retorted.

We went. They dawdled. Then when they saw their friends, who's parents had all obviously given up, just like me, they raced ahead and ran into the school hall leaving me clutching two dogs and a packed lunch. I handed the packed lunch in and left without even a goodbye from the boys. At least they were happy.

Mind you, yesterday, TJ went to his piano leson and, with KC watching, he played his first duet with his piano teacher - with mixed chords and everything. I was so proud I can tell you I shed a tear. He finished and he was so happy and proud of himself. Even KC gave him a round of applause.

As we left KC turned to me and said, "Can I learn to play a musical instrument, like a guitar? Then TJ and I can start our own pop group?"

"Sure," I said and promised I would look into it - which I will, after all I am a firm beleiver that music is therapeutic and who knows, one day I may be watching them receive their first gold disc!

Friday, 23 May 2014

My "Get out of Jail' card.

I have injured my arm...

That sounds worse than it is.

I've actually damaged my tendon and it hurts.. a lot.

I had an appointment with the physiotherapist today who told me to 'stop using it.' She then taped it up.

This wouldn't be a problem except its my left arm... and I am left handed. It's now not fun.

Even typing this is taking longer than normal as I tap with my right hand and make loads of mistakes.

Papa has been sympathetic. I called to tell him earlier and he said, "It's a get out of jail free card for you, isn't it?"... that didn't sound very sympathetic at all did it?

It wasn't.

I suppose by this he means that because of my injury I won't be able to carry out my paternal duties over the bank holiday weekend (it's a long weekend here in the UK) and I will expect Papa to do it all.

So instead I sorted out the washing and the airing cupboard, made the pizza dough (Its pizza night) made a banana bread (thank you Angela May - best banana bread ever) and then sat down to do my revision - except that now my arm hurt... again.

I, of course, am a trooper. I don't share my pain with anyone (except you). I carry on in my role as a candle for the world (I took over where Princess Di left off) and i bear my pain with the upmost of fortitude... Did I tell you it's a lot of pain????

It's not really - its just annoying.

And I don't think I will be the only one it annoys this weekend. Papa and the boys may have to fend for themselves - well, partially.

Oh well, I'll let you know what happens.

Wish me luck!!!!!


Wednesday, 21 May 2014

Adventures with the puppy...

After the last post I decided to venture into an area a little less serious - that of our puppy.

She is growing and, unfortunately, she is also managing to jump even higher.

Yesterday I made a cake for the boys' tea, I placed it on the hob and turned around to close the oven door. When I turned back the puppy was already on the hob (which wasn't turned on) and eating her way into a freshly baked orange drizzle cake that must have been still close to the 180degrees that the oven was set to. She didn't seem bothered and despite my telling her off she just carried on eating.

Afterwards I surveyed the mess that was my bake off challenge and decided the best thing to do was cut the top third off, ice it and not say anything. So that's what I did. Except this being the age of social media I couldn't help but put a picture of the resulting mess up on Facebook - 153 hits later and hubby definately knew about the cake. Luckily the kids didn't and they tucked in with abandon after their evening meal.

After dinner I had to log onto to an online revision site for my upcoming exam in psychology - such fun! As I tried to listen to the lecturer and ignore the hundreds of 'chat messages' from fellow students who all wanted to be re-assured that they were indeed going to pass the exam despite having full time jobs and families, I also had to manage the puppy, who has decided she will never leave my side - or in this case my lap. Trying to type with a dog trying to leap onto you is not easy. Needless to say, I didn't take much part in the chat sessions but used the time to try and focus on the areas that need the most revision. This seemed to involve starting three weeks ago - oops!

I haven't taken a written exam since my schooldays, so I am pretty nervous but, apparently, with the right amount of revision I will be ok. Then why did they schedule the exam the day after half term? The poor boys will be spending their days at pony clubs and fottball camp whilst I try to revise.

I wonder whether the puppy can go with them?

This morning the puppy decided the boys' rabbit was her bestest friend in the world ever! The rabbit wasn't too sure, particularly when puppy managed to open rabbit's cage (I still don't know how) and had her head in the rabbit's dinner bowl (I spend a fortune on puppy food and I could easily have just shared the rabbit pellets). The rabbit wasn't too happy and hopped out and it all would have been fine if he then hadn't decided to run. The next five minutes were spent with the dog chasing the rabbit and me chasing the dog - the rabbit found a spot behind the garage and barracaded himself in. It took me twenty minutes of coaxing to get him to come out and pop him in his run (puppy safe!)

We have just come back from our walk and luckily she is worn out - as am I. Although I know it wont be for long!

Wish me luck!

Monday, 19 May 2014

My Son is Ashamed of Me...

My son is ashamed of me...

That took a lot to type. I've been wondering all morning whether to write this blog entry or not - I even went to the gym to mull it over whilst pounding the treadmill... and as I found out this weekend I really must be 'pounding' the treadmill.

Let me elaborate.

My eldest, KC, who is 9, went to a friend's party at the weekend, the friend's mum called and asked if I wouldn't mind helping out as she had invited an awful lot of children. I didn't mind, I explained that I would have TJ with me and she kindly offered for him to come to the party as well. KC wasn't too pleased when he heard, complaining that TJ goes to loads of parties (which is true) whereas KC goes to very few (also true) so why should TJ get to go to this one.

I explained the situation and that I was going to be helping out anyway and TJ would most likely stay with me for the entire party.

We left...

On the way there KC suddenly said, "When we get here can you tell everybody that you are my uncle and TJ is my cousin?"

I nearly drove the car straight into a tree I was so taken aback.

"What do you mean?" I asked, "What's wrong with people knowing I'm your dad and TJ is your brother?"

"I just don't want anyone to know my business," he replied.

I decided to leave it. "We'll talk about this when we get home." I said and we went to the party.

The party was chaos. The kids (30 of them) were off the wall and most of the parents, who had been drafted in to help, like me, stayed glued to the bar whilst myself, the boy's mother and an aunt ran around doing everything - even the party organisers were dreadful. But the kids had a good time, which I suppose is the main thing. Except that at the end of the party I saw KC behaving appallingly and ensuring that none of his friends would play with TJ. I appreciate sibling rivallry and all of that (I was no angel to my little brother) but KC was off the wall - jumping on things, climbing on stuff that was quite dangerous and being openly mean. I had never seen him behave like this before.

I told him to come inside, I wasn't going to tell him off in front of everyone. He looked sheepish, "There," I said, "Now everyone knows I'm your dad because I have just had to bring you in. You have two choices, you either stay and play nicely with your brother, or we go home now."

He opted to go home. So we said our thank you's and goodbyes and left.

Later that evening, whilst TJ watched TV, KC and I sat down with Papa to have a chat.

"Why didn't you want people to know that Dad is your dad?" Papa asked.

"Because I wanted to spare his feelings," KC said in an obviously rehearsed manner.

"Spare his feelings?" Papa asked. I just sat listening.

"Yes," KC went on, "I didn't want my friends to laugh at him because he is so fat."

At this point the bottom fell out of my world. I was stunned.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm no slim Jim and since we had a family I have definately put on a bit, well, a lot of weight, but to hear that your own child is ashamed of you is dreadful.

He went on, "My friends all laugh at fat people and I didn't want them to laugh at Daddy."

"What about TJ," I asked, "Why did you pretend he was your cousin?"

"Because TJ is small and looks weird," came the shocking reply.

I was absolutely lost for words. We haven't explained TJ's disabilities to either boy yet, I'm thinking it may be time soon, I just need to pick the right time - it could crush TJ's self confidence, or it could empower him - I don't know which way the coin will fall yet.

TJ has a form of dwarfism, coupled with possible Foetal Alcohol Syndrome, which effects his appearance - although to me he is gorgeous. Being on the autistic spectrum means he finds social gatherings difficult - but he tries really hard.

But at this point in time I was concerned with where all this was coming from KC. I decided to be honest with him.

"You're not worried about what people think of me, I said, "You are worried about what people will think of you - let's get that point sorted first. If you were worried about me then you would stand up to your friends and tell them you don't care how your Dad or your brother look, but by asking us to lie, then you were only protecting yourself. After all, would it have been ok for these 'friends' to laugh at me and TJ if we were your uncle and cousin."

He shook his head, knowing his argument was flawed.

"There's a boy at school who is fat," he went on, "And some other boys call him names."

"Do you call him names?" I asked.

"No,' came the reply, "But I don't say anything, I'm just glad it's not me."

"Not doing anything is as bad as taking part," I told him, "You have to help him, how would you feel if people laughed at you?"

"That's why I don't eat lunch," he said, "I don't want to get fat."

What??? He's not eating lunch??? He is 9!!!!!!

"I'm on a diet," he said.

We went on to talk about body shapes, different types of people, and the fact that he was an incredibly active little boy who didn't need to watch what he ate just yet. He doesn't have fizzy drinks, occassionally he has crisps and junk food is a treat. I told him all of these things and they seemed to get through to him.

This morning as we were getting ready for school he packed his snack box, "I'll just have two pieces of fruit today," he said.

Now I'm wondering if we got through to him at all.

Either way a call to the school is definately needed and I am back at the gym!




Friday, 16 May 2014

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.

Wednesday, 14 May 2014

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...


Monday, 12 May 2014

Is That Adele?

That was the question TJ asked as he watched the Eurovision Song Contest on Saturday night. We let the boys stay up to watch it purely because this year there had been so much hype about the fantastic British entry that was finally going to do well for us - except it didn't. Although the boys certainly cheered her on - although that may also have been because it was way past their bedtime and as the British entry, Molly, was on last, they got to stay up really late!

Of course the contest was to see the fabulous Conchita Wurst take home the prize for her James Bond inspired song 'Rise of the Phoenix.' As the beautiful, yet bearded, lady came on I expected a barrage of questions from the boys. I didn't get it. TJ looked at me and said, "That lady has a beard," to which KC told him, "No, its a man who likes to wear women's clothes - and that's cool." to which TJ nodded sagely.  I didn't want to go any further into the LGBT debate and let it lie, until TJ suddenly said, halfway through the song, "Is that Adele? It sounds like her James Bond song." Both KC and TJ love James Bond, althought I haven't let them watch the later ones yet preferring to stick to the campier 1970's versions which are constantly on TV - Roger Moore raising an eyebrow or Sean Connery just being.. well, Sean Connery.

The judging came on and the boys asked to place a vote each. TJ opted to vote for the campest French song I have evenr seen - about a Moustache! and KC opted for a little Belarussian who sang about Cheesecake - because he likes cheesecake. If thats the future of Eurovision...

On Sunday we went up to London to see an old school friend of Papa's, who was lovely. I think the boys were shocked to learn that Papa had been at school once and loved listening about his antics as a boy - although to be honest, Papa's antics were pretty few - he was a very good student!

After a delicious dim sum lunch at out favourite restaurant we did a little shopping on Regent's Street, a visit to Hamley's always ensures that the boys are well behaved.

Although over lunch Papa's friend made a comment on how well mannered the boys were - I think that helped them in their present buying budget! I wonder if they bribed her?


Wednesday, 7 May 2014

Puppy Pulling Power

I had to watch the title in case it began to sound like Scooby Doo's annoying nephew Scrappy but it fits the scene nicely.

Papa and I took the children and dogs to the park yesterday. The puppy is still on lead training as she pulls constantly and is desparate to lick anyone, or anything, that comes within five feet.

The boys raced off to play football with their mates in the park. "Be good," I called after them. "we will," they shouted over their shoulders. I nodded knowing that there was very little I could do if they decided not to be.

Papa and I walked along the outside of the park towards the dog run. We were stopped time and again by other dog walkers commenting on the puppy and asking the usual questions, 'How old was she?", "What breed?" - the answers were usually met with knowing nods or gushes of 'ahhhhh'.

"Why are all the people who stop us to chat old ladies?" Papa asked. I looked at him, "Because they are the ones walking their dogs," I said.

"But what's the point of having a puppy if it doesn't attract lots of young men," he went on, "Haven't you seen Will and Grace?"

"I'm not sure if that reflects real life in a British suburb," I laughed, "But good luck with that." I handed the dog lead over to him. "Let's see how you go."

Within seconds of Papa taking hold of the puppy an athletic, blonde, young man jogged past, glistening with sweat. "Cute puppy," he said and he stopped to let the little dog lick the said sweat off the back of his hand. I felt a pang of jealousy from Papa and knew that he too wanted to lick the sweat off this boy as well. I stifled a laugh - albeit a jealous one.

Papa immediately turned into this macho version of himself, talking about the puppy in a deep manly tone, sharing her age and her funny attributes. "Right, see you around," the young man said as he set off back on his run.

"See you," Papa waved casually.

"Puppy pulling power," he said, obviously pleased with himself.

"Let me try," I said and I took the lead from him.

It was only minutes before I was approached .. by yet another old lady.

It was then that we heard the commotion coming from the park and knew that the kids were squabbling over the football - it only takes about ten minutes for 'nice' play to detriorate into a fight.

Things were back to normal.

I took the puppy out again this morning - no sign of any young men for me! I'll try again tomorrow....

Tuesday, 6 May 2014

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...


Friday, 2 May 2014

Sweets and Japanese Horror Movies...

It's been a strange evening.

Papa was away last night - he had to go to a fancy dinner in London with a client whilst the boys and I had a fish and chip supper followed by Easter eggs for dessert. Which was, admittedly, great fun.

Whenever one of us is away the boys just don't seem to settle - and last night was no different.

TJ has begun to horde food - I don't know where that comes from - he eats like a horse, but is now apparently waking up in the middle of the night hungry. What is surprising is that rather than come and wake me or Papa and ask for a piece of toast or some cereal (which we would happily give) instead he sneaks into the kitchen and steals sweets - which he obviously prefers to cereal, and I do restrict the boys sugar intake, so actually maybe its not that surprising at all - where I see a psychological imbalance based on his past experiences there may just be a greedy little boy who wants sweets!

However, last night I caught him in the act of sneaking downstairs... Papa was late home and I was still up when this little figure starts creeping down the stairs and into the kitchen. I stepped behind him as he explored the 'treat' cupboard. 'What do you think you are doing?" I whispered in his ear - he jumped a mile.

"I just needed a drink of water," he said, "I was thirsty."

"Really," I replied, "Is there a tap in that cupboard."

He looked guilty. "No, but there is orange juice." (his juice boxes for lunch are stored there and he wasnt having one of those...)

I gave him a glass of water and took him back to bed.

As we walked up the stairs I heard a commotion in my study. I walked in to find KC, in the pitch black, throwing all my books to the floor and turning the furniture over, literally turning it upside down. I clicked on the light to see that he was fast asleep. I decided not to wake him and just followed him talking quietly and telling him it was time to go to bed. All the while picking up the things he threw behind him. He then walked out on to the landing, had a wander around, then went straight back to bed. It was quite bizarre - like one of those Japanese horror movies where the child has been possessed.

So with the boys back in bed I settled down to finish watching my movie and the house fell silent again.

At that moment Papa stumbled through the door - the dogs went beserk and the children woke up again.

I didn't sleep much last nigh!

Tuesday, 29 April 2014

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....


Thursday, 24 April 2014

Chocolate in Bed...

It's been a while since my last post.

What with puppies and Easter holidays and having Granny to stay its all been a bit manic. But now the boys are back at school then things should begin to quieten down - one hopes!!!! Ha!

Last night we decided to take Granny out for a meal and booked our lovely childminder (who is also our cleaner). She is a lovely Turkish lady but takes no prisoners. However, she adores the boys and they, in turn, do as she says (which is rare).

So we went out and were only five minutes away when the phone rang.

"Puupy is very naughty,' she bellowed into the phone, "Puppy is eating all the pasta you left on the kitchen table for me."

I had made enough pasta to feed a small army - have you seen how much two boys can eat? - but there was enough for the sitter's supper, should she want some. However, it seemed as though the puppy had eaten it - although why she felt the need to update me with this information I wasn't so sure.

"Never mind," I replied, "There are plenty of crisps in the cupboard."

The sitter thought about this, "Good, I will be eating those then." she said and rang off.

With that settled we went out for a lovely meal - where the waitress was so slow that I was tempted to go and collect the food myself from the kitchen 'pass' (see I watch Masterchef) where it had been sitting for ten minutes whilst she showed her bunions off to her colleagues.

We came home to find both boys asleep and all three dogs silently sitting on the stairs - even ASBO dog was behaving. Turks must have a way with animals - or she scared them into submission after the pasta incident - Never come between a baby sitter and their food!

I went in to say goodnight to the boys and found that TJ's face was covered in chocolate. "Has TJ been awake?" I asked the sitter as she was leaving.

"He only got up to go to the toilet," she said and she left.

I noticed that all of TJ's easter eggs, which had been put into his room to keep them out of reach of the puppy, had all been opened and the largest one (a gift from Granny) was now simply a gold wrapper.

I decided to leave it until the morning.

...

This morning I questioned TJ about his Easter eggs and the chocolate on his face.

"Did you eat three eggs in bed last night?" I asked over breakfast.

He looked sheepish, "No," he said, "I shared it with the sitter."

"Did you?" I asked, "well, let me give her a call later and I'll find out if she enjoyed them."

With that I let him sit quietly staring at his cereal.

As we were walking to school he suddenly piped up, "When I said I was sharing my egg with the sitter - what I meant was that I wanted to share it with her, but by the time I thought about it I had eaten it all."

I looked at him, "It's not the chocoloate I'm cross about," I said, "Its the lying," He looked suitably crestfallen. Then I added, "We shall talk about this when you get home from school."

That should give him a whole day of worrying... cruel, probably...  effective, yes!

Great - so now I have to hide chocolate from both the puppy and TJ!

Wednesday, 9 April 2014

Poo, puppies and parenting...

When did my life become all about poo?

When we first adopted the boys, we knew there would be lots of challenges, but one that we thought we could avoid would be that of dirty nappies and poo... Of course, in their early days we had a couple of accidents and our youngest did end up back in pull up pants for a short while but apart from that, all was fine.. Poowise.

Then we got a puppy. I had forgotten how messy house training a pup is. Yesterday morning for the first time, puppy asked to go out. She ran outside and did her 'business' in the garden. I stood by her telling her what a good girl she was and rewarding her for pooing outside. She was so happy that she immediately ran back up to my bedroom and pooed again by the bed. She sat there waiting for me to praise her... She didn't get it that time.

Then later that day I needed to send out a couple of emails and do the online shop (I am never taking the boys supermarket shopping again, I usually end up buying loads of junk and spend most of my time apologising to whomever TJ has offended - he has learnt that if you put your hand up to your mouth and whisper how fat or ugly someone is then they can't hear you... Unfortunately, he hasn't mastered the art of whispering!)

Anyway, I popped both boys into the garden to 'play' and I pulled out the laptop.

I had two minutes...

Then the crying started. 

I decided to leave it. It sounded more like an 'I'm going to tell' cry than a major incident. But then I heard them talking... "You think I care if you tell him?", KC asked his brother, "What can they do? Ground me? They can't do anything else. So I'll just carry on hurting you."

I was actually stunned. This was my responsible older boy talking. Not only was he being frightful to his brother (who hasn't done that at some point?) but what stunned me was his dismissal of Papa and I as 'they'. It dawned on me that in his mind we weren't his parents, just those who look after him for now.

I was hurt.

Then I remembered his foster carer saying to me, "it will take them as many years with you as they have been in care for them to accept you as their parents." I poo-pooed it at the time (see what I did there?) But I think she was right. TJ was just 5 when he came to is, as he approaches 9 he does seem to accept that we are his parents and would never refer to us as 'they'. KC was 6... So we have a couple more years to wait."

I then heard a blood curdling scream. I rushed out and TJ was bawling. His face was covered in dark wet stuff. I looked at KC. "It's just mud," he said defensively.

"It's dog poo," screamed TJ, 'he put dog poo on my face!"

I sniffed the offending article. It was poo alright.

Now I was in a dilemma. What could I do to KC?  I told him to stay put while I cleaned up his brother.

As we left I turned to him and said, "I heard what you said young man," I was obviously channelling my  father here, 'and if grounding doesn't teach you a lesson then we will have to think of something else, won't we?" KC looked suitably stunned. Then I channeled my mother, "Just wait till your Papa gets home!" I said through gritted teeth. Poor Papa, after a long day at work being 'strict Edwardian father' probably isn't top of his 'to do' list.

As I cleaned TJ up he said, 'Daddy, my tummy hurts, I think I need a poo." I have learned that when his tummy hurts a poo is imminent... I learned that the hard way. I popped him on the toilet and went to deal with his brother.

After the usual chat about how wrong this was and how it made his brother feel and other similar nonsense I informed him that for the remainder of the week instead of watching tv for an hour in the afternoon with his brother he would be sitting with me and we would do times tables together. This time it was his turn to let out a blood curdling scream. Well at least something hit home!

I then had a call from the bathroom. 'Daddy, come and look at my poo... It's huge!'

He'll be asking me to put it on a Facebook next...

Wednesday, 2 April 2014

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!


Tuesday, 1 April 2014

Happy 'Gay' Dad's Day

I've only just calmed down enough to write this - although those of you who follow our adventures on Twitter have already heard most of this already.

I'll recap.

On Friday, after school, I went to collect my youngest son. TJ walked out of school and immediately we were surrounded by children asking me 'Where's TJ's mum?" and "What happened to TJ's mum?"

I was stunned, I wasn't sure what to say or what to do. TJ was distraught and just wanted to go home. I couldn't understand what was going on. I bundled TJ into the car and we left.

As we walked through the door I asked him what that was all about.

He reached into his bag and threw a card at me. A card in pink, shaped as a handbag with small butterflies and pom poms stuck to it. It looked very nice.

"A mother's day card?" I asked, "Did you make that for Granny?"

Every year the boys have celebrated Mothers Day by making cards and buying little gifts for my Mum, then we celebrate the later Mothers' Day, Singapore follows the American one, and the boys do the same for Papa's mum. Its a system that works for us. Until this year.

This year it had all gone wrong.

TJ told me to look inside the card. He was bit sheepish and obviously embarrassed to hand it to me. Inside it read: "Happy Dads Day."

Of course I accepted the sentiment and told TJ what a lovely card it was and then put it on display - ready for his brother to come home...

When things had calmed down I asked TJ if he wanted to make the card for me and Papa. "No', he replied, "I was making it for Granny but Miss said I had to make it for you - so (and this was the bit that really angered me) she told me that as I don't have a mum I couldn't say Happy Mothers Day, I had to write Happy Dads Day... in front of everyone."

He then burst into tears. "But I told her you wouldn't want a pink handbag?" he sobbed.

I was furious. Here was my little boy, coming to terms with being adopted, learning about different families being subjected to complete humiliation in front of his class mates - not to mention how it reflected on Papa and I, obviously all gay dads would love a pink handbag(?!?). I wouldn't have minded if TJ had wanted to make the card for us and had written "To Daddy and Papa on Mothers Day" - or something similar. But this was inexcusable.

Papa and I are adults, we've been called many names and we can put up with the little jokes and the knowing looks across the playground - but this? This was coming directly from school.

TJ went to his school disco and I immediately fired off an angry email to his head teacher.

Yesterday his head teacher grabbed me for a quick chat. Luckily she was incredibly apologetic and was investigating... but for us the damage has already been done.

TJ had a restless weekend and is bed wetting again. I can only keep re-assuring him that everything is ok. This just made me more angry with the teacher.

If the teacher was unsure then surely a simple phone call could have settled the issue.

Its a shame as TJ was beginning to love school - this has set him back but it wont break him. I'm sure it wasn't meant maliciously, at least I hope not, but I think someone needs a training day on what being inclusive and diverse actually means.

On the plus side we did talk about what we should say when people ask abut his family. Did he want me to say he was adopted - was I allowed to tell his friends.

He thought about it. "Yes," he said, "But only if they ask."

That's fine with me.


Friday, 28 March 2014

Puppy Mother's Day

Its a wierd title but it will soon become clear what I mean.

I have blogged about the boy's attitude to Mother's Day before - and this year they seem much 'cooler' about the whole thing - or so I thought...

As you know, we became the proud owners of a little puppy on Sunday and she has been absolutely fine. She tends to chew everything, but I think thats common for most puppies. Oddly enough, although we have had other dogs (and still have an older one) they have all come from rescue centres, so this is our first 'puppy experience' and its a definite learning curve!

When we went to pick her up I was concerned as to how the puppy would travel in the car, so had taken a box, lined with newspaper for the journey.

Of course, I had forgotten that my eldest son is practically an animal whisperer - they all love him - he sat in the car with the puppy on his lap and she went immediately to sleep and travelled like that all the way home.

Whilst we were coming home we discussed a name for the puppy. I was opting for Toffee - as she is caramel coloured, Papa wanted Daisy (no idea why - probably a Downton Abbey type thing - he always identifies with 'below stairs'), TJ wanted Maisie and KC suddenly said, "We should call her Gracie, after her mum."

I said that I didn't think that was a good idea, that puppies should have their own names.

To which he replied, "But we are taking her away from her mum - she might never see her again, surely she will want to remember her." I caught Papa's eye and we both knew this was one of those conversations - a rare moment where KC talks about his Mum.

The door had been opened, by him, we decided to let him walk through it.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well," he said, "I can remember when TJ and were taken into care. TJ cried and cried but I didn't. I knew I had to be brave - the lady in the car said I had to be brave, just like the puppy. I didn't cry I just stared out of the window while the lady held TJ. I wish I could have slept like the puppy did. But I was very scared that I wouldn't see my Mummy again."

I was a bit shell shocked - this was massive. I had only ever heard KC talking like this once before when he was telling our best friend's son what it was like to be adopted and how scary it was to suddenly have to go to a new family. Here he was talking about the puppy but essentially telling us about himself.

TJ was indignant, "I didn't cry!" he said,.
"Yes you did," said KC, " you cried a lot - but you always cry a lot."

"Every time we went to a new foster carer TJ would cry and I would stare until we got there." They had an number of moves but luckily they were with their final foster carer for a long period of time, which allowed them to settle.

"I just want to call her Gracie so she can remember her Mum", KC went on, "It is Mother's Day this week after all."

Papa and I agreed that as it was the boys' dog then they both had to agree on a name. "I want to call her Gracie too," said TJ - so that was it. Gracie came home with us.

I didn't think Mother's Day was such a big issue this year but on Monday I got a call from KC's school - there had been a Mothers Day assembly and he was obviously distressed as each of the Year 6 children got up and said how amazing their mother's were. I asked KC about it later and he said, I was only crying because everytime they talked about their mum's I changed the word to Dad in my head and I thought of you - and that made me cry."

It made me cry a bit too...



Wednesday, 26 March 2014

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...



Thursday, 20 March 2014

Oh! What a Beautiful Morning...

It seems that my blogposts are often linked to a song or piece of music.

Perhaps it because so much tends to happen in the early hours, whilst breakfast is going on and the radio is on in the background. My boys both love routine and the radio gives that. The eldest knows when the 'children' come on the radio (Radio 2) that we have to go and catch the bus for his school and when the 8.30 news comes on, then the youngest knows that's the time we should be leaving for his more local school.

It was a tough decision to separate the boys schooling and to send them to different schools. When I shared that decision on a guest blogpost for BAAF I was called ruthless for trying to break the boys 'sibling bond' and had my first ever real homophobic abuse thrown at me.

But it's hard to write in a guest blog our reasonings behind it.

Once the boys had settled then we soon realised that their 'sbling bond' was a dysfunctional one-  meaning both boys relied on it but neither benefitted. One social worker simply said, "They should never have been placed together."

Of course, by now they had been placed together, they were our boys and we weren't going to give up on them, so, we fought and fought and eventually got both boys the access to therapy that they were promised but never given. That was invaluable - both for the children and for us.

Then once the older boy, KC, was due to be discharged from therapy the subject of his schooling was broached. Had we thought about separating the boys at school? They are only a year apart and at the local primary. KC was falling behind in his work, he is diagnosed dyslexic (not that that means anything in the state system - thank you Mr Gove) and was spending too much time worrying about his younger brother. TJ was, in turn, overly emotional, needing to know where his older brother was at all times and was also unable to function. He was placed on the autistic spectrum, although the therapists believe this is a result of his past trauma. We can only wait and see.

So Papa and I chatted with everyone who would listen, social workers, therapists, teachers and it was felt that KC would benefit from going to another small locally based school that specialises in dyslexic friendly learning. Great - except that it is private and not cheap. But we scrimp and save and got him there. TJ went into meltdown.

This was going to be hard.

TJ's school were incredibly understanding and put in place lots of help for him when he felt 'wobbly'. KC, on the other hand, settled into school quickly. It was as if the 'burden of parenthood' had been lifted from him. He didn't have to worry about his brother and now that we had identified his main learning difficuly he seemed to take it in his stride to try and overcome it. I had the realisation (I maybe wrong) that KC had simply stagnated - by which I mean he stopped his learning development at the point of his going into care. He was still functioning as a 4 year old both academically and emotionally but the new school could help him deal with that and could, as they put it, try to fill in the huge gaps in his learning as well as finding strategies to help him with his other difficulties.

Both boys are so brave.

For TJ he needed to know that I would be there for him, whenever he needed it. I finished working and stayed at home, on call. I started a little blog and began a psychology degree with the OU.

But whenever school called I went. and still do go. TJ had to realsie that when he needed help it would be me that came and not KC - he had to trust an adult. That was something he has never done - I still don't believe he fully trusts me or Papa - hopefully that will come.

Here we are nearly a year on and I suddenly realised how settled everything was - despite TJ's little meltdown last week. KC happily headed off to the school bus, suddenly gaining a new air of confidence and seeming very grown up. His school focusses on routine and KC loves that. Its very old fashioned in its ways but for KC it works. He is almost able to read independently. He is 9 now but a year ago and he wouldn't even have been able to differentiate the letters of the alphabet - so this is a big step. More improtantly when the brothers come home in the evening they share their day together - each telling the other about their new friends or things they have done.

TJ went into school this morning singing. Singing!

Oh What a Beautiful Morning, the Howard Keel classic, had been on the radio and I had sung along (I sing a lot) and on the way to school TJ was singing it too. As we neared the gate he turned to me and said, "Daddy, I can go in by myself." and for the first time ever he ran down the little path to the school gate while I stood back with the dog.

I now know how all those parents feel on the first day of school when children are 4. My youngest may be 8 - but today he took that first positive step to independence. A fellow parent said to me as I turned around, "Is he too embarrased to let you take him to school now?" I didn't want to say this is his first time going into school by himself, so I simply nodded and said, "Yes - don't you hate it when they get to that age."

As I walked home I suddenly felt really emotional. But finally I thought - the struggle of the past couple of years was actually beginning to pay off.

It really was a beautiful morning.

Tuesday, 18 March 2014

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...

Monday, 17 March 2014

What a weekend...

Well its certainly been an eventful few days.

On Friday I was taken out for a lovely lunch by a literary agent - who has agreed to represent me and to help me work on the book version of this very blog. The book is finished but needs revision and its great to have another pair of eyes to evaluate things subjectively, as well as look after all the business side of things.

Its all very exciting but also a bit scary - Papa brought me straight back down to earth when I asked him if we could open the 'special' bottle of champagne we have reserved for 'special' occasions. "Wait until you actually have a publisher," he said wisely, "Then we can open it - until then we need to buy you a new monitor and clear out the study so you can actually use it as a... well, study." With all the building works we have going on the study has turned into a storage room and we could barely see the floor. So Saturday was spent clearing that room out.

But now I'm all set and ready to go! Let's see what happens on this leg of the journey.

Saturday was also the day that our youngest decided he would revert to bed wetting - except he didn't tell us. Instead he lay in his own wee - maybe through a sense of shame or maybe he simply didn't care, which was the vibe he was trying to give off. I have read that often children who have experienced neglect find comfort in a wet bed, the warmth and the smell can trigger off a sense of calm. Who knows? Either way we decided not to make a big deal of it and just treat it as one of life's accidents. We decided that - his older brother didn't. KC thought it was hilarious and took every opportunity to remind TJ of his urinary slip up.

So Saturday consisted of me trying to keep the peace between the boys which then resulted in a full on fight and the Skylanders game on the wii being destroyed. Of course, when Papa pulled them both up on it they both decided it was the others one's fault - which just made Papa incredibly angry and he stormed out declaring that the children have no respect for anything. He has a point but then there is also the idea that they have no respect because, well lets be honest, why should they? Monetary objects mean little to them and I lose track of the broken toys that are met with a shoulder shrug when I ask if they are upset that its gone. Sometimes I am guilty of just letting things go for a quiet life... maybe that needs a rethink.

So Sunday we went out with the boys Godparents for lunch and their children. It was lovely to hear the four children chatting away over their lunch, like old friends. Normality resumed.

Then KC reminded me that he needed an atlas for his homework. We had tried using the internet but it just wasn't going to work so at 5 minutes before Sunday closing KC and I excused ourselves from the lunchtable and ran up to the bookshop and purchased a junior atlas, much to the hilarity of the bookshop staff. Homework was completed on time....

Then this morning TJ got up to tell me that he hadn't wet his bed... hooray! But he had lost his tie and was far too ill to go to school - oh, and he hadn't done his maths homework - which needed to be handed in today!

Brilliant!

This book will write itself!!!!!!


Thursday, 13 March 2014

Reality Check!

Its been a strange week so far - one of those weeks where very little seems to happen but you seem to be exhausted all the time.

It began at the weekend.

When did weekends become all about housework, washing and catching up on homework?  I didn't used to mind being exhausted on a Monday as I knew it was simply the result of a weekend of excess - probably spent out with friends in the pub - Monday was a day of recovery.

Nowadays I'm just grateful to get to Monday, to feel that the weekend is out of the way. The kids are back at school, hubby is back at work and I am left to clear up the mess and get the house sorted out ready for.. well, for the next weekend.

When did this become my life?

They didn't tell you about this in the adoption manuals... I don't recall any social worker ever saying "make sure you go out partying lots before the kids arrive because after that they will run your life."

Of course, the counter argument is that we have much more quality time together and its great fun watching the kids grow up and playing with them - except that sometimes it isn't. Sometimes they are just annoying - the constant whinging, the constant whining that 'I am bored' and 'why can't I watch TV" - and thats just Papa!

But last weekend poor TJ was poorly. On Saturday morning he simply didn't get out of bed. For TJ this is very unusual - normally he can get out of bed on a weekend at the crack of dawn - not so on schooldays where he has to be shoehorned out of his bed - but weekends he is up bright and early ready to take on the world. Except on Saturday he wasn't.

I went in and he told me his head hurt, he also didn't want breakfast and he just wanted to sleep - warning bells were screaming in my ears. I did the usual checks for serious illnesses and then administered that nectar of the god of ill children - Calpol.

He slept nearly the whole day. Then at 7pm he felt much better and couldn't sleep all night. Suddenly I had a jet lagged 8 year old who required entertaining...

By Sunday morning he was asleep and I was exhausted. But there was still stuff to be done. A roast dinner to make, washing to sort out and a house to clean... luckily both Papa and KC were going to help me - if help meant that they sat out of the way watching the rugby... which is what they did.

So at around 4pm I decided to take the dog for a walk by myself. We strolled by the river and watched the world go by. Then one of TJ's friends came rushing up with his family in tow. 'You're lucky," said the mum, 'having time to go for a walk - where are the boys?"

"I left them at home with Papa," I said, "They are watching the rugby."

The mum looked at me with shock. "You are letting your children watch TV on a beautiful day like this?" she exclaimed, "They should be outside getting some fresh air."

"Yes, they should," i replied, "But then they would be with me and I wouldn't have any peace and quiet."

I think she was a little offended as she and her brood rode off into the distance... not that I cared - for just a few minutes longer the dog and I sat and stared at the peaceful river before I had to return home to make supper...

I'm not really feeling sorry for myself- I love my life but every now and again I remember what it was like before kids - and sometimes it was pretty good!


Thursday, 6 March 2014

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

Wednesday, 5 March 2014

... they don't see difference, they see family.

Well we are back from our trip to Singapore.

If anything this year was blissfully uneventful. The boys got to see their Grandparents and Papa's sister and her family. They attended an 'open day' at their cousins airforce base - he is serving his National Service, and the boys generated a lot of interest from their cousins crew mates, all of whom wanted to know how they were related. It's great that our boys simply accept their Singaporean Chinese family as their own - they don't see difference, they see family.

It seems that Singapore is beginning to get used to the idea of gay dads - or perhaps its just us. Where last year we fought off questions and argued about 'where the mother is?' with restaurant staff this year we had a complete stranger congratulating us on our beautiful family. This was lovely but after the chap had said it we kept bumping into him, even ended up standing next to him in a taxi line - which was suddenly very uncomfortable - afer all, how do you continue a conversation with a complelte stranger who has just commented on your family? There was a lot of nervous smiling and looking at the floor from everyone. Still, we gave him a wave as we drove off in our cab.

The air stewardesses were obviously curious. Previously we had always flown either British Airways or QANTAS - the stewardesses there cottoned on straight away about our family mix. This time we flew Singapore Airlines - and they didn't have a clue - or were too polite to ask. In the end one stewardess came over to Papa and asked him if he was travelleing with 'our party' as he seemed to be helping the little boy next to him a lot. Papa explained that they were his sons too and after that we were the subject of much gossip and air crew walking past regularly to get a look at us.

Not that the boys noticed. Wierdly, people still stop them in the street or by the pool to take pictures of them - Chinese tourists love our boys - Papa's sister suggested we begin charging for photos - we would make a fortune - I think she may have a point.

Maybe people do still stop and point at us, or we get comments - but maybe we simply don't notice anymore? The boys certainly weren't phased by anything.

One of the boys friends commented on having two dads. 'When men get married," she said, 'Its because they need someone to stay at home and look after the children.' All of her friends nodded at this wisdom.

Perhaps Singapore is indeed finally opening up to families like our own.

Perhaps.....