What the Actual?

​As an adult and in some adult company, I see no problem with Anglo-Saxon vernacular; to me “swear” words are an expressive aid. I have been told that in my company, some of my friends say they swear more than they ever do outside of it, in some cases not at all except with me, and that I swear a lot. I don’t do it in front of children, nor my mother, nor my mother-in-law and would never have done it in front of my Dad, but all at a subconscious level, as if the deeper recesses of my brain block off access to those expletives automatically in particular company. Although my Mum says “feck” in an Irish accent and claims it’s not the same at all.

But nevertheless I don’t baulk in most instances. What does the F word bring to the table that other f-words don’t? Why is it more expressive in context and accenting than “flipping” or “freaking”? And why therefore is it unacceptable to me to hear a child swearing?

I once told off a Dad at a football match for swearing in front of his 7-year-old son and told them both off even more when his son aimed the swearing at me… And had the audacity to tell the Dad off and to say “Look what you’ve taught your son to do – how proud you must be.” And surprisingly got away without a split lip for my trouble.

And when my child came home from school and told me that one of her friends had said the F-word, not expressed in that way, but spelt out for me, phonetically correct if not actually correct, I was shocked and appalled. But struggled to explain why. What was it about that set of sounds coming from my child’s mouth? And also how did my child know, it seemed instinctively, that word was a no-no? It’s just and F and a U and a C and a K all strung together, just like a C and an A and a K and an E, no? Once I had told her that it’s not “nice” to use that word and we shouldn’t use it, she asked me why and I had nothing.



What Positives Adoption Has Brought To Our Lives

Of course there are negatives – unexpected worries, stresses and difficulties that we have to deal with everyday, but this blog is just about the positives – which thankfully dominate our lives and put the negatives into perspectives.

The positives –

Our Sons (obviously): Two amazing little boys who have become our world. Two pure soles who have filled up our lives and who’s resilience and joy surprise us everyday.

Love: So very much love. From the moment we met our sons and were overcome by a level of emotion that neither my partner and I had experienced or could have anticipated, to a love today that has flourished and amazingly continues to grow even more intense with each passing day.

Happiness: They have brought a happiness that is beyond anything that we have experienced previously, a happiness that is pure and complete.

Pride: They have filled our hearts with pride. Pride for what they do, pride for what they say and pride for them for being just exactly who they are.

Laughter: Children have a wonderful perspective on life and their innocence and naivety is charming and often very, very funny. We laugh at them, we laugh with them and most importantly we laugh as a family – everyday

Contentment: Being a family has made my life more complete and has filled me with a level of contentment that I could never have imagined.

Perspective: Children help us to see what is truly important in life, they make us realise that ‘they’ are more important than anything! More important than money, more important than ‘stuff’ and most significantly more important than ourselves.

Re evaluation: Adopting our sons has made us stand back and look at the life we were living – the long hours at work, the partying, the constant attempts to please oneself – and it has made us realise that what we have now is more than we ever had or could ever have achieved.

Friends: Adoption has brought us many new friends, friends from inside the warm and welcoming world of adoption as well as friends from the lives of our sons, from school, from clubs, from their friendships.

And quite clearly adoption has brought us a great degree of smugness – for which I make no apologies.

Photo courtesy of
unsplash-logoAnnie Theby

A Thicker Skin

In Sleeping Beauty the King and Queen invite all the fairies in the kingdom (except one of course with disastrous consequences..) to bestow gifts of beauty and character apon their new daughter the princess Aurora and whenever I read it it strikes me they massively missed the point.
None of that stuff matters.. they should have given her a thicker skin.
People with thicker skins seem to sail through life
and it’s the one thing I wish I could give to my daughter.
She comes home form school mortified that people have even noticed her.
She won’t have her photo taken and we’re not allowed to praise her or say she looks pretty because the attention – good or bad – is simply too much. At home we can work around this but school it’s out of my hands.
To a lesser degree I know how she feels. If I had had a thicker skin I would have sailed through the numerous school and location changes we endured as a family when I was little. Instead I have painful stark memories of standing in new classrooms surrounded by staring people I didn’t know and I remember feeling raw and exposed.
In one of our moves, I was forced to leave a small village school with only 30 pupils in total (and a cherished best friend) to be taken 200 miles away and thrown in to an inner city school of 1000. I can distinctly remember my legs almost buckling under me as I walked in on my first day and the scrutinising expressions on the other children’s faces.
I still wince at the memory.
Compare this with what most of our children have gone through and it’s a drop in the ocean – each and every one of their numerous losses and changes having stripped another layer of security and sense of self from them making it just that bit harder to face all the challenges that growing up brings.

I wish I could give them all thicker skins.