glory days

You cannot simply have a birthday in our house. It is not about just opening cards, opening presents, thanks, whoosh there goes another year. Oh no. Birthdays are super special and so the day deserves the elevated status of super-special-this-is-your-one-extraordinary-day. And so, birthdays in our house come with a few rules.

Get your theme on

There must be a theme. Mainly an option for the little humans in the house but the big, grownup, numbers with an 0 birthdays get a theme too.  This has ranged from super-heroes to hawaiin luau to Frozen to London Olympics 2012 to Lego to Bollywood to Eurovision for them and an N party for me and a black&white party for him (he's a Geordie...it wasn't a segregation party). Just prior to a birthday, we can be found huddled together, planning what this year's theme will be and then cue...Pinterest. I will then be found trawling Pinterest for decoration, food and of course cake ideas. More about cakes later.

Dance to the music

There must be a birthday playlist. Up until now, said playlists have been my area of expertise. With such an eclectic love of genres, a Mama Elsie playlist will take you down an 80s memory lane with a quick stop over at 70s disco, back to some Britpop, stroll with some reggae or country before hanging out with some good ole soul and funk. Since the 3G reckon they've 'discovered' music, they have hi-jacked the creating of playlists to consist of the top 15 songs that are played ad nauseum. These kids need some music education. And the steps to the 'Candy' dance.

Sugar, sugar

There must be cake. I like cake. We all like cake. I haven't got the patience to bake cakes. Before I got over my full-time working mummy guilt and started buying cakes, I used to make the birthday cakes. They usually took me three attempts, finishing well into the night and were presented with a slop of butter icing to resemble themed objects such as a disco dance floor, a princess dress or respective numbers. The best was a number three with orange butter icing; nicknamed by a good friend as the 'pizza' cake. This has now gone down in folklore.

Food, glorious food

There must be a birthday meal. Because they're a little bit young for me to introduce birthday beats, the deal is that the birthday person gets to choose dinner. Be it Sunday roast on a Thursday, Maccy-Ds in the garden, pizza in front of the telly, or getting spruced up for a meal in a restaurant. Your birthday, your choice.

So we got a theme, we got the music, we got a cake...of sorts and we might even get our gladrags on get someone else to cook. Time is running out. They are starting to protest. My theme party ideas will soon become a thing of the past. Although I do like the idea of my70th being a Superhero party so who knows?

This post was inspired by The Photographer's Gallery:familyphotographynow.net: still life

hey soul sister

Original photo by www.budsandbranchesphotography.com/

So last week the FPG prompt was sisters, of which biologically I have the one. But this week's prompt of friends who are family means I get to tell of my other sister - gained through marriage.

Once upon a time my husband's only brother introduces us to a beautiful lady with a sunshine smile and a laugh that hugs everyone in the room. We all nodded, knowingly...this was obviously THE ONE. On her first official 'meeting of the family', we were concerned that BigL, who was a pre-schooler at the time, would position herself as a human barrier between her favourite person in the whole world and this lovely intruder.  Within a few minutes, she was founder of the AuntieS fan club; which has increased its membership over the years that she's been part of our lives.

I've gotta be honest when she first came on the scene I was a bit...rolls eyes and makes that sound like a cat choking up a hairball. There she was all young and bikini slim, with all that no-kid freedom and disposable income. She had come into the fold all laugh, laugh, laugh and perky sun smiley, elbowing my grey cloud grumpiness into touch. For all of that, read JEALOUSY!

But you know when you just click with someone? Whether it's over politics, fashion, food, attitude towards the outside world, shared experiences; there is a moment you know. And I knew she was gonna be more than just my brother-in-law's wife when we could communicate without even speaking.  When you can share a joke with me or communicate injustice with your eyebrows...we've soooo connected.

We always say to our respective brother-husbands that we are solely responsible for our family being so close because if we didn't get on as well as we do, life would not have been the same. We often laugh about a parallel-us giving each other cut-eye across Christmas dinner, outdoing each other's outfits at family weddings or over bragging about our kid's achievements. 

Instead she has become the woman who will tell me if I need to go change out of that outfit, or if I'm being too self-centred, or if I'm right...occasionally. She is the person who will listen to my tears and outrage and text my 'wait...what?' moments to during box set binges. She gets it when I want to hold another 'themed' event and dresses up accordingly, she is always ready with 'I know, right' and she loves embarrassing my daughters in public as much as I do. Result.

This post was inspired by The Photographer's Gallery:familyphotographynow.net: friends who are family

daddy lessons

There's no hiding away from this. My Dad was a strict dad.

A 'you better get your tail back home on time' kinda Dad.

A sit down and listen to me lecture if you know what's good for you type of Dad.

A jokes that will make you groan Dad.

A never got my mates names right Dad.

There was the time he took to riding his motorbike during my athletic training runs because he couldn't keep up.

There were the times he told me to take down my Adam Ant / Madness / Duran Duran posters so often that when I left home, I blue-tacked wall-to-wall posters that it seemed I had a heaven of popstars watching over me like Greek Gods - Britpop style.

There were the Christmas Eves where he baked bread loaves in the shape of plaits and bread buns with our initials on, then left the kitchen looking like a flour hurricane had swept through. His work was done.

There were the nights I would sit on the stairs listening to him talk with his custom officer colleagues on their way to / back from a drug raid. For those tiny moments I was an extra on Juliet Bravo.

There was the year he turned 40 and I was the cassette DJ forced to play The Clash's 'I fought the Law' over and over again.

He was the Dad my mates' mums (and my PE teacher) fancied.

He was the Dad who tried so very hard to instill a sense of my ancestry in me.

He was the Dad who drove us the length and breadth of Britain so we would know our home country.

He was the Dad who  caught me reading my football magazine instead of revising for my Biology GCSE.

He was the Dad who bought me baby dummies for my 30th birthday as a gentle reminder of what he was waiting for.

He's the Dad who would make me tea and toast and sit for hours watching box sets of 24 when I was on my first maternity leave.

He's the Dad that will discuss politics, race, racism, parenting, aging, football and Doctor Who in just one phone call.

He's the Dad who climbs mountains, swims in oceans and still insists on jumping over walls even though he's passed the Beatles age-related hit song.

He's the Dad who is greeted by his grand-daughters, like Norm from Cheers, with a 'Grandpa!'

He's the Dad who isn't strict anymore.

He's the Dad who became the Grandpa who still tells jokes that make you groan.

This post was inspired by The Photographer's Gallery: familyphotographynow.net:My Dad

miss you like crazy

grinding cocoa before shaking the pineapple tree

We were never one of those families who had grandparents and aunties and uncles regularly popping by. In my infant days I spent time with my Grenada grandparents, who were in London when I was born but I was too young for these memories to remain. Into my toddler years I certainly remember hazy, lazy days with a wonderful great-aunt who's daughters became my surrogate sisters; but that too came to an abrupt end.

We became a nucleus. A fortress of four that occasionally journeyed from suburbia into the city walls of London to visit our Caribbean extended families; as the years passed, the gaps between visits grew wider.

The GeordieLad's experience is not the same. He comes from a family that were used to each other's living rooms, Sunday dinners and Christmases. The love, laughs, support and birthday money that he had taken for granted was extended to me well before our wedding bells; his family circle widened to include me from day one. So when we became parents I planned to ensure that our girls saw all extensions of our family more often than at the obligatory weddings, christenings and funerals. And they do. We all do the best we can.

However, my Grenada grandparents cannot be part of this, returning back to their homeland in the 70s we exist in each other's lives through faded photos and fortunately, the rare visit. Now great-grandparents, we took the opportunity to take our babies during my maternity leaves but they were so very young that it was unlikely they would remember them at all.

So last year's summer holiday at my Dad's Grenada home was invaluable. They were now of an age where they could interact with their Great-Grandparents - it was an opportunity we could not afford to waste. Despite my Grandfather being invalid and quite poorly, the girls were respectful of his unpredictable behaviour and made sure they chatted to him about their adventures, even though he would often not respond. They knew he was listening and the morning we spent manoeuvring him down to the beach will be a lasting moment for us all. 

And as for my Grandma. Well, depending on which branch you sit on the family tree denotes the relationship you have with her. I do pretty well, thanks very much. The girls, do even better.  We'll not mention how my Dad gets on. She might have talked in riddles and roundabouts that made them look to me for interpretations (which I  would respond to with a 'yes Grandma' until they got the idea) but she taught them how to roll grind cocoa and churn ice-cream on her birthday. She showed them how anything can be stored in a freezer and took them on a photographic journey of her life in 1960s London. She also made them laugh with her sayings and gave them nicknames that would have prompted tears had I thought of them.

Saying goodbye to my Grenada grandparents was one of the hardest things my girls have ever seen me do. They don't like to see me cry. It's unlikely we'll be back there anytime soon. Yet I'm certain the girls understood that just because you don't see someone everyday or even every year, it doesn't make your love for them any less. 

This post was inspired by The Photographer's Gallery: familyphotographynow.net: familylivingfaraway

good thing

What a time to be in right now. I often wonder how the history books will write up the last year and the days to come; whose feet will they choose to lay the Brexit blame and how will they compare President 44 to 45? Cartoonists and Exam Board Question Makers must be sharpening pencils as the political roller-coaster ride twists and turns.

As Trump's inauguration looms I've been reading about how Obama's lack of achievement and how any accomplishments will be erased by his successor anyway. Haters gonna hate and theorists are always gonna miss the lay person's view. Here's mine.

In 2016 the country where I was born and bred, educated and worked, raised my daughters and probably will end my days, has turned the other cheek and is making a hateful noise. Not everywhere, mind. I'm a Londoner, most of the time people here can handle a range of face colours, divergent accents or an assortment of religions. But still the mood has definitely changed. And then we witnessed an eruption of overt hate spewing out of our tellies during the US Presidential Campaign. I am amazed that so many people can invest so much time to so much hostility; they seem to live and breathe a continuous rage against people who don't mirror themselves.

We have been invaded by an influx of slogans saying which lives matter, people filming death on their doorsteps and which 'race' is at fault for the demise of the others happiness. All raising relevant and necessary debates because all views need their day in the sun.

For me, the way the Obamas, especially Michelle, have engaged with society has been genuine. The images that fill my FB timeline highlight the joy, the decorum and respect for their position during their time in the White House. Michelle Obama's work raising the profile of girls education has been inspirational to many and long may her work continue in the organisations she has supported. Their collective message has always been about doing better, working hard, supporting one another and the necessity for heightened gun security. Okay I don't live in the States; many policies Obama imposed don't affect me directly but as the first black family in the White House move out of the spotlight and back into their private lives I believe they were always going to be scrutinised moreso than any other Presidential family. And how refreshing that they completed their tenure without scandal or mighty blunder as we have witnessed before, imagine if this President with a Brown Face committed a socio-political crime? Like getting Twitter trigger happy or mocking the afflicted.

Many may belittle those who rejoiced in the ethnicity of the First Family but there is a truth in how it has opened doors of self belief or understanding of journeys that can be taken by people of colour - when history lessons omit sections of society, if someone in power has experienced and refers to elements of your struggle, you are referenced and therefore can take your place in the future.

In their short lives, my three mixed heritage children, have grown up with classrooms and communities that reflect a whole world; a white male followed by a white female UK Prime Minister; a black American male president - their norm is that different people attain different successes.  Maybe they're too young to realise the power of prejudice, they will learn in time but I hope their future will be one where they use their voices, their strength, their abilities to improve their world - that's a message I taken away from the Obama years. 

MLK

Happy Martin Luther King Day!

"...the surest way to be happy is to seek happiness for others"

Apparently today is 'Blue Monday', the most miserable Monday in the year. After the bright lights of Christmas have been dismantled and unless you have a birthday imminent, your high street and home street are defunct of colour until Valentines. As a teacher, this week was bang in the middle of an uphill slog to the dark February half-term which would then be crammed full of the joy that is  assessment and coursework marking.

But luckily (and so immensely relevant in light of US activities this week) there is a little red, white and blue glimmer of light for this week. Today is Martin Luther King Day.

"If I cannot do great things, I can do small things in a great way!

It's been a pretty muddy, rainy, cold, kids-in-the-middle-of-the-term-tired weekend so I'm looking to start the week with love and a bit of history thrown into the mix.

MLK's life and work may be taught in some schools but I'm going to add a little bonus learning to our afternoon and open up a discussion about prejudice and tolerance. I want to hear what they think (and see whether we' ve been raising 'em right!).

The 'apple' or 'egg' experiments could be a starting point and I'll let them take it from there.

Or asking them to imagine life in a time of segregation: How would it change the life they have now? What would happen to their friendships? Or family? Being mixed heritage, I imagine my 3G will be throwing some interesting questions my way.

"What matters is not how long you live...but how you live"

To avoid a 'you must talk now' moment, whilst we chat I'm hoping they're up for writing their views encompassing MLK's desires.

So a poem entitled 'I have a dream' or 'My dreams for tomorrow'.
Or filling in a template cloud with finished sentences : A dream for me, A dream for my family, A dream for my world.  Hang it up and display the wishes of your offspring...then tuck it a box ready to whip out on their 18th birthday!

"The time is always right to do what is right"

Then to the conjuring up the atmosphere of MLK's time - well the good bits anyway - the music and the food. My lot are used to hearing an eclectic mix of music at Twickers Towers and today will be no exception. 1963 Soul can ease our way into dinner time. This may not bode well for the 3G but I'll keep them busy with the cooking and enjoy some solo-boogieing!

Tonight will be a dinner that has been alleged to be MLK's favourite Southern Soul Food : fried chicken, sweet potato, green beans and mac & cheese.  This is definitely food to warm the greyness out of a grizzly Monday.

"I have decided to stick with love. 

Hate is too great a burden to bear"

And finally, forgiveness. Many of MLK's words reflect on the power of forgiveness. Something that can be hard but required during all our lives. Who and why should we forgive? What might happen to us if we don't learn to forgive others?

I'm not one for heaping my political opinions onto my children - they read therefore they will find their way - but the messages here are about being a good human. That is one rule in our home that they must abide by.

"Our lives begin to end the day 

we become silent about the things that matter"