Seasons

It's a funny time of year this 'season of mists and mellow fruitfulness'. So many beautiful colours and scenes but all tainted with a sense tiredness and impending end. This autumn more than most I have reasone to feel down with almost every employee of the youth service being offered voluntary redundency. Those who are left may then have to apply for their own job which will be radically changed! Unnerving at best, terrifying a worst. Thoughts of job centres, unpaid mortgage and the boys being affected are seem all too real.

Having said that I am very aware of a sense of being where I am in life for a reason and that my season with WSCC and SBYC is not turning yet. I am also aware that my feet are planted firmly on the rock and I cannot be skaken.

During a recent walk up Amberley Mount I stood on the edge of the scarp slope where the path falls away. Weather was closing in from east and west and the wind was wild. Common sense says I should have felt uncomfortable but infact I felt excilerated and even excited about what the impending storm would bring. I hope I am not proud or foolhardy but instead know in what and whom I have my faith.

Back in the room...

I've been back at work since Tuesday, the boys went back to school on Thursday and slowly things are getting back to the normality of term-time after an action packed summer. In the last few days I had off we got the house straight and went on some treks, Firstly to Bignor Hill discovering Hornets and paddling in puddles and then up Chanctonbury Hill in the beautiful sunshine pushing the double buggy up the steep slopes. From there we saw gliders, Buzzards, what I think was a Hobby and some amazing views of the sea one side and the Sussex Weald on the other. Beautiful, exhilarating and great fun. I feel really grateful that Naomi has humoured my need to have some adventures this summer. I'm sure she'd rather be laid up in a spa somewhere but instead helps me to feed my need for the great outdoors, especially when the tent floods!

My first week back to work has been relitively uneventful. I am determined this term to work hard but in a way that is ordered and manageable. This has worked so far but this has been a quiet week. So quiet in fact that I have had time to put up some key hooks and re-hang the old youth club sign! I'm sure it will get busier.

Cadan has headed off to his first Cub Camp and surprisingly was not a bit nervous when I dropped him off. He's been worrying about a practice fire alarm at school all week so I thought staying under canvass without Mum or Dad would have really freaked him out but no he was in fact 'quite excited about it' as he told me on the way to Stedham. Ben also joins him with his fellow Beavers for one night tonight.... more Adventure... this is the way to educate boys, I am convinced!

Eron has started school with no fuss what so ever. This will ease the pressure on Naomi a little as she will have no more Playschool runs for a little while. Noah continue to beat the world into submission and Reuben is still very much a nocturnal creature! It is these youngest of our clan that our currently exhausting Naomi who battles on.

What an adventure...

Our holiday is over and looking back it all seems to have gone far too quickly in one crazy frenetic blur. I can't say I'm more relaxed or rested for the experience but it was a great adventure. Not because we scaled mountains or cross jungles but because we managed to give five boys a great time packed with new experiences on a tight budget and stay relatively sane!

We swam in the sea, scrambled on cliffs, hunted for fossils, cooked on a camp fire, went on bike rides and fished in rock pools all the stuff of the classic camping holiday. If I'm honest there was also an element of re-living my own childhood holidays on the same stretch of coast.

With the two babies it was exhausting at times. Each night once Noami and I had got the kids bathed in the stak-a-box and into their sleeping bags we managed only a few pages of our respective holiday reading before our eyelids began to get heavy and our tired heads started to nod.

After five days in Dorset at Eweleaze farm with it's anything goes vibe, we headed to the far more prim and proper Round Hill in the New Forest. With its hot showers and pitches sheltered from the wind this was luxury after the farm. We enjoyed two days here including a lovely day with my parents with whom we shared a pub lunch and a BBQ in the rain - great fun!

We had planned to stay here for a further two and a half days but some extreme weather had other ideas. When we finally got home my facebook status described the events in the following way...

"1:00am - "jonny there's water in the tent" .1:30am - getting everything up off the ground. 2:00am - "I think this is our holiday over" 3:30am - driving the kids and what we could rescue back to Petworth. 5:30am heading back to the New Forest to take the tent down. 8:00am - heading back home with lots of soggy stuff :-("

 At 1:30am with Cadan being his most mature and helpful, saving ourselves from the rising waters all seemed quite exciting. It was only in the quite literal cold light of day - 7am - when I returned to the tent to find the boys toys bobbing helplessly in the flood water that a lump came to my throat.

For a moment I caught the tiniest of tiny glimpses of what it must feel like for those in the Pakistan floods or any disaster where a home is destroyed and life turned upside down, and resolved to be grateful that I have a home to go back to and any sort of holiday.

Packing and leaving was a stressful task and now we're faced with the same task in reverse with the added stress of every item of clothing and bedding being covered in smelly flood water. Eight loads of washing later an we're almost back to normal with just the tent still to dry.

All in all one exhausting but ultimately rewarding adventure as I had anticipated.

and we're off...

After what has been three extremely busy weeks at work for me and three painfully tiring weeks for Naomi at home with the boys. We're now off on another camping adventure. Packing has been really stressful and I'm not sure how we got to this point with just the last few bits to do tomorrow morning before setting off for Eweleaze Farm in Dorset.

I'm sceptical about how relaxing our holiday will be. I guess we'd go to a posh hotel without the boys if we were after 'relaxing' and that is clearly out of the question.. Hopefully in some way it will be positive and I should remember to count my blessings in a world where many live 24-7 with less than we are taking with us tomorrow.

Maturity...

Sometimes I worry that my faith is not what it was. Now that I'm not faced everyday with the task of bringing young people on in their faith, I have less opportunity to stretch my own. My life has less formal prayer, bible study and worship. Less talk of revival, of this 'generation' or exciting analogy's purporting to be God's word.

So is my faith dry and tired? Am I old and cynical? Has my shallow 'role-based' faith been exposed? Well today I decided... actually no! I don't feel dry, tired or old. A little cynical at times but it helps me get by and keep things real. I feel alive, inspired and still living out God's calling on my life. Things are just different and God finds me in a different context and speaks through me in different ways. Without wanting to 'spit on my roots' I feel as if much of my previous ways of expressing myself and my faith were simply froth and excitement. That froth as died away and I am left with an acute awareness of something far more awesome, steadfast and everlasting. There are many things to be worried about and feel responsible for but I know that God will never let me and my family down.

I know what I'm doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. ¹²"When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I'll listen.

Jeremiah 23:11-12

On other matters... for many months now I have been deliberating on the tricky question of chicken run or playhouse for the boys. Knowing from the start what the answer would be I have been delaying out of pure stubbornness. I have finally conceded and started building the boys their fort out of old palettes and off cuts. stage one...

What kind of person are you...

We've all done them. You know those silly little quiz things in magazines where you're asked to answer a few inane questions and then tell you what kind of person you are!

This week I've found myself thinking about what sought of person I am or at least would like to be. I guess as a man, husband and father I've always thought I'd like to be assertive, in control and generally taking on life's challenges but the death of a friend has made me re-think. She was quiet, shy, giggly and timid on the surface but underneath it was clear to those who knew her that she didn't care what people thought of her and was determined to live as God wanted her to. To this end she was generous, thoughtful, she would always compliment and flatter, see the best in a situation and try to live, speak and be God's word to others.

I guess the most important thing is that we are true to what and how God calls us to be. This is hardest at work where most people I interact with on a daily basis have a pretty radically different world view. This means a daily battle to be in the world but not of it. This was especially brought to mind during a recent staff meeting where massive budget cuts where being discussed. The feeling of anger, worry and fear was tangible and some times vocalised. We where even asked to come up with ideas ourselves for how the cuts could be made. I remarked at one point that it felt like being asked to do open heart surgery... on yourself!

I could feel the same feelings of dread rising in me as I was having very real thoughts about being unable to provide for my wife and 5 boys or pay the mortgage. Whilst my logical self was working out how likely I am to have a job in a years time my spirit was sure that there was a better way to approach this.

When I returned home I read this...

Psalm 3

A Psalm by David, when he fled from Absalom his son.

3:1 Yahweh, how my adversaries have increased!

Many are those who rise up against me.

3:2 Many there are who say of my soul,

“There is no help for him in God.”

Selah.

3:3 But you, Yahweh, are a shield around me,

my glory, and the one who lifts up my head.

3:4 I cry to Yahweh with my voice,

and he answers me out of his holy hill.

Selah.

3:5 I laid myself down and slept.

I awakened; for Yahweh sustains me.

3:6 I will not be afraid of tens of thousands of people

who have set themselves against me on every side.

3:7 Arise, Yahweh!

Save me, my God! 

 

nuff said!

Birthday Season...

Little Reuben was two weeks old yesterday and adds to a growing number of family and friends with a Birthday in May/June.

Eron, 4 today is easy to please, he simply loves having a fuss made of him as we all do I surpose. That's exactly what he got today custersy of his hard working Mum who made a cake, organised for family to come round and bought presents despite her fragile state. His Birthday is on Saturday when more mayhem will ensue and once again Naomi will shine I'm sure.

I'm now right back into things having had two weeks paternity leave. I'm determined to master the art of having a demanding job but not allowing it to dominate my every thought. A work in progress!

What's been occuring...

This has been the last weekend of my two week paternity leave. It's been a lovely weekend of parental triumphs and memories revisited told here in pictures. The two weeks has been lovely in parts but emotionally draining in others. Waiting and anticipating something so big, for so long builds up like an invisible boil which then bursts making a great big emotional mess of relief, joy, stress, exhaustion and even a little emptiness. It's taken two weeks to recover my equilibrium and now I'm faced with going back to work tomorrow.

So to the weekend...

The boys have been asking to go swimming for ages so I promised them a trip to Horsham pool on Friday after school. The powers that be say I can't look after three of my children in the pool at the same time so I had to just take the oldest two. When it came to it I wasn't looking forward to this outing as I ached from a bike ride in the Park the day before and a late night at the curry house and then watching the election results come in. Cadan and Ben enjoyed it hugely though and this gave me the usual feeling of achievement and satisfaction so was well worth the effort

I also promised the three eldest a day in the woods building a camp and lighting a fire. A big ask I know. Fortunately (and unknowingly) I had prepared for this event twenty years ago by spending a good deal of my teenage years on similar activities. I hoped to find my old 'camp' but wasn't sure what would be left. I was amazed to find that it was still there complete with fence, shelter and fire place. The boys had previously found these woods scary and Eron did have a wobbly moment when we arrived because he thought foxes might eat us! Once we'd made the place ours and got the fire going they all became calm and tranquil. The fire cracked, the birds sang and sausages sizzled! Proper boys own stuff.

After these two adventurous outings some time to relax at home was needed. With church out of the way this morning the afternoon was spent mooching at home. Just what the doctor ordered. And what a lovely, God-given home it is. Having watched the Grand Prix, played with Eron, watched Ray Mears track Wolves and uploaded photos, we cooked roast ham. Yum!

As well as little Reuben the house and garden are full of new life of a more horticultural kind. We are growing veg again this year. The BBC sent us carrots, courgettes, beans and salad free of charge! We've not had huge success in the past but despite my temptation to be cynical about our chances this time, I can't help but smile at these new shoots.

Decisions, decisions

 

I'm no political cono sur and like many people I find arguing politicians, tiresome at best and down right infuriating at worst. I'm not one for an argument either (probably why I always turn over Eastenders) so seeing people try to reach decisions about running our country by means of bickering always struck me as strange. In my older age (34 now!) I have grown to appreciate the value of debate and discussion and give politicians slightly more credit, although at times they still resemble children squabbling . The expenses scandal sickened me and whilst I try not to think with prejudice I can't help being cynical. 

With all this in mind I find it hard to summon up the energy to engage in the process of choosing the next set of bickering, crooked politicians to mess things up (I told you I was cynical!). Despite this I did feel it my duty to at least form some sort of opinion and have kept one begrudging eye on the proceedings. 

My thinking has been... Labour have done some things well and screwed other things right up. The Tories did some things well and screwed other things right up and Lib dems I suspect, would do some things well and screw other things right up. So I think I'll be forgiven for surmising who ever gets in next will do some things well and screw other things right up.

So all I want is a party that can resist the urge to allow power to corrupt and be honest, open, dignified and honourable. Is that too much to ask? Of course my decision is not helped by the fact that the political tid-bits that I am served by the media cannot really be trusted. So my decision boils down to crude gut instinct, influenced by all the news stories, broadcasts, interviews and debates that come my way between now and polling day.

Reuben Welch

Well it's been 4 months since my last post so I guess it was always gonna take something pretty major to warrant a return to the 'blogosphere', and here is that something pretty major!

Before the birth of no.1 I worried a lot about holding him, I had horrible visions of me dropping him and had to shake myself to stop me dwelling on it. The reality was that once he was in my arms he was a perfect fit , almost as if my arms were made with the shape of my children in mind. It was my brother in law that pointed out how natural we looked as I stood texting with one hand and cradling with the other. Now, five boys on, and still nothing beats the feeling of a new born baby's head nestled in the crook of my arm.

Little Reuben Welch was born on Monday by planned Caesarian section. A pretty undignified procedure by all accounts. The mystery of child birth is taken away when the nurse gives you a date weeks in advance. But hey at least we could plan! Working out school runs, playschool pick up and other child care matters was pretty complicated and Naomi's planning was military. Then there's the waiting. We arrived at the hospital at midday having dispatched all our children, only to find that we wouldn't be going in until 3pm which turned out to be 4pm. So four hours sat in a room waiting isn't great for the nerves. This is punctuated by various health professionals coming in to have their own little chat, specific to their role in the procedure. Finally the moment comes when your loved one is strapped to the bed and made more helpless than you've ever seen her while you turn on the brave face. Time flew and the hospital staff were chatty and light hearted given the circumstances. They took Reuben straight out and laid him on Naomi for a first cuddle. He is a tiny, helpless but perfectly formed 6lb 7oz.

Reuben has a ready made fan club who have been as anxious as I have been and now share my relief and joy. They visited him in hospital and were really excited to hear that he and Naomi were back on Wednesday, a day earlier than expected. I've been overwhelmed by the warmth and kindness of family and friends who would be forgiven for getting a little tired of us by no. 5. Instead they have pored out affection in all sorts of ways from the soppy to the practical and everything is very much appreciated.

So now we go about reconstructing our lives with a fifth child. Some say we're mad, some say stupid or even wrong but here we are, no going back and there's not a fibre in me that would want to. Yes their hard work, time consuming, expensive and all the other things people keep reminding us of but are the alternative lifestyles more attractive? My kids are my hobby, my indulgence, my free time and my obsession and I love it.

More posts to come...