Reflecting on memories I have with my children makes me realise how lucky I am; special, gorgeous times that create subtle life milestones that I know in years to come I’ll still celebrate.
The first one that springs to mind is from back in those days when we had just the one kid, Andrew. At 18 months, we took him to Barcelona for a few days, en route to Malaga to his grandparents’ house. He was this tiny man; the absolute centre of our lives. We got to experience this incredible city together for the first time with him. Lots of it was through his eyes. Stopping for inordinately long periods at street buskers because he loves to dance. One guy played La Bamba for him three times in a row because he’s always loved that song.
From a previous life as a music teacher, I can play and sing it en Español and it became a little lullaby for him, even though it’s not exactly quiet or gentle. We stopped at every street vendor because he loves shops outdoors, apparently. We went to the zoo. We had siestas that tied in with his naps. It was hot and glorious and it was the three of us and it was unforgettable.
A bit later in life, Samuel came along. Where Andrew was precocious and advanced, Samuel was cute and mischievous.
Now, we had two big personalities to deal with. Most of my best memories of “the lads” are of the three of us doing “lads” things. Across from our house is a big green. Dragging goals across the road because jumpers for goalposts just won’t do; rolling down the hill until Sam got so dizzy he was sick; carrying the two of them back like sacks of potatoes while they hysterically half-cry half-laugh. These rough, wrestle-filled times are so much fun. We make these memories a lot.
The girls are twins – two-and-half years old now. With them, all the memories are inextricably linked together, as a duo. I think that has a lot to do with why twins are so close. It’s less an ethereal link and more circumstantial, I feel. They make their memories together and they, therefore, make my memories of them as a pair.
Recently enough, we potty-trained them, using little sweets as treats for well-aimed wee-wees. They were quick. Nina took less than a day. Amazing, the power of Cadbury Dairy Milk Buttons! Anna needed a bit more time and way more Cadbury Dairy Milk Buttons but she got there. There’s still the odd accident. Or interesting decisions. Like, just today, I picked up a Peppa Pig welly that felt a little heavy. It took the place of the potty, apparently, and was full of a very well-aimed wee wee! I won’t forget that in a while.
Baking together is another thing we love doing as a family, as it’s just so much fun. A simple activity, full of chocolate and flour and eggs and the results are so delicious and such a good pay-off for all the (not-so) hard work. Around Christmas, we decided to make mince pies. Samuel wasn’t convinced he’d like dessert with meat in it until he tasted the “mince meat”.
His confused face was no less confused after that explanation. In fairness, he has a point. We made THE biggest mess but had the most fun we’ve had as a gang of six in ages. I would love to include a picture of the carnage but my phone was actually dunked into the sink that day and died (thanks, Nina!) so I have no photographic evidence of the fun. It was basically a few hours of this:
Finally, something I’ll never forget, and can’t wait to repeat with Sam and the girls when they’re older, is taking Andrew to Old Trafford.
Now Andrew’s adoration of Manchester United isn’t as deep-rooted as mine is. Yet. This trip will have gone some way to changing that. It was special in so many ways. It was his sixth birthday. He wanted nothing else. No gift. No party. He just had to go to see what it was all about.
As I was booking the flights, I also looked at hotels. For a laugh, I tried Hotel Football, on the grounds of Old Trafford and owned by some of the Class of 92. It’s far too expensive for us. And even more so on match day. But they were doing a deal. A really good deal. It was still pricier than the Lenny Henry hotel in Manchester but not by much. And it was Hotel Football!
We flew over, checked in and headed in to watch United beat West Brom 2-0. He sat on my shoulders in the drizzle afterwards and saw some of the players going to their cars. Juan Mata smiled and waved when I told Andrew to shout, “¡Hola, Juanito!”, instead of “Hi, Juan!” He couldn’t have been happier. That night, he was allowed stay up to watch Match Of The Day in the hotel. The poor thing never made it.
He was asleep by 7.30pm after all the excitement. The following day, I had booked a late flight home so we could do the Stadium Tour. This was even more special for him; in the changing room; touching the actual shirts. The Tour Guide made a fuss of him and let him lead a team out down the tunnel. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him beam as widely and I don’t think I have either.
We flew home on a small propeller plane but, really, we floated home on cloud nine. I’ll take Samuel soon, as he shows an even more encyclopaedic knowledge of football than Andrew. And the girls too, if they’re similarly enamoured. Or wherever they dream of going. Well, not anywhere. I mean, not Anfield. Or the Etihad. I’m not THAT nice of a Dad!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Pa0zhDpcIc&feature=youtu.be
Making memories is the greatest thing you can do with your kids. They won’t really remember when you gave into their wailing in Smyths and bought them another packet of Match Attax or a box of Lego or a Peppa Pig figure set.
They will, I believe, remember occasions, events, time spent together and the love we all share. That and those bloody electric guitars they got last Christmas. The noise! What was Santa thinking?!
