At least we have Glastonbury on the telly.

I cry a lot - I mean all the time. It doesn't take much to set me off. Yesterday I was watching TV and an advert came on - you know those food stories ones with a person sharing a meal they make for a special reason. Well this time it was an amazing woman called Bridie and her Jerk Chicken recipe that she feeds to all the foster children who have lived in her home. Over 800 children and counting. She describes how children always arrive hungry and she feeds them with love. Sets me off every time. What a wonderful woman. Tear Jerk Chicken more like.

The other day I took the boys to Waitrose with me when I popped in to get a brew and my copy of Waitrose weekend. The foodbank volunteers were outside and we took a leaflet listing what items they need urgently. Blue Bear pushed the trolley and Brown Bear read out the items and we took it in turns to put them into the trolley. After we paid and put some green tokens into the charity boxes we pushed the trolley outside and emptied the contents into the volunteer's trolley. He watched in disbelief as my boys gleefully kept putting food and toiletries into the donation trolley. When we finished I gave both boys some change for the tins too. They were thanked for their generosity and they both beamed with pride. In the car on the way home Brown Bear asked why we had given all our shopping to the man and I said, "Our fridge at home is full of food. There are people who aren't so lucky. The people at the foodbank will help them by giving them what we bought." If you haven't seen I Am Daniel Blake the scene in the foodbank is heartwrenching and the very thought of it makes me cry. This is why I always donate sanitary items and as much food as I can.

 

A few weeks ago Brown Bear told me that a boy in his class told him that he's not 'a real Indian.' Apparently he isn't brown enough and his name isn't Patel. The boy who made the comment has asian parents and it did make me wonder what they say about people at home. I find it hard to believe a 6 year old would say something like that without context, but I could be wrong. To be frank I don't much like the kid or his family so their opinion means absolutely nothing to me. What does matter is how it makes my son feel and what it does to his sense of identity. I want to protect my children from negativity and unkindness, but I can't always be there. What I can do is ensure we raise our children not to be like that. In our family we don't remark on skin colour and certainly not in a pejorative way like that. All four of us look different and it's not something we make a big deal out of. When Blue Bear came to live with us a few people mentioned that he looked white. I smiled and told them both my boys have mixed parentage - well frankly all children do up to a point. Our boys are a beautiful mix of asian and white british. Now I consider it rude and intrusive for anyone to comment on the colour of my children's skin so I don't engage with it.

We talk about equal marriage in our home. We talk about adoption. We talk about fostering. We talk about poverty. We talk about politics. We talk about being kind and being fair. We don't necessarily use those terms, but we are role models for our children and if they see us being kind we hope they will do the same. I explained to Brown Bear on our walk to school the other morning that I hope he will be a kind and caring adult. I joke that being an indian mother I should want him to be an engineer, a doctor or a lawyer, but actually if he wants to play football (his latest thing) or to be Superman - for which he has to move to America naturally - then we will support his dreams. Of course he did also state in complete seriousness to Hubbie that he wanted a skateboard, because, "it's always been my dream."

I started off by saying that I cry a lot. Recently there has been plenty to cry about in the news. We're also going through our own stuff as a family and that is pretty difficult. This afternoon my lovely sister took the boys out for a treat and after spending over an hour tidying the garage and cleaning the car me and Hubbie sat down on the sofa and watched Glastonbury. We just sat together and enjoyed the music, like we used to before we had kids. Just for an hour.

Sometimes simplicity is everything.