Kids are so smart it makes us ‘intelligent’ adults look several sandwiches short of a decent picnic. If you say you’re just off to a family party and then everyone sits there dressed in black and sobbing for an hour, they might smell a rat, and never trust you again. Tell them it’s a funeral, tell them people might be crying, including you, and explain why. Not to do so is to insult their intelligence and to set them up for a nasty shock.
Show your emotions. I think it’s very important for our children to see us crying, whether out of happiness, sadness, despair or anger. If we hide our emotions from our kids they won’t have a clue how to handle their own, and they will have a very peculiar impression of what being an adult entails. I sat next to my six-year-old at my grandfather’s funeral recently, and cried uncontrollably because they played the
Lacrimosa from Mozart’s Requiem—enough to send me into the deepest pit of sorrow for several hours, even if I’m in a good mood. She held my hand, comforted me and was amazingly grown-up and sensitive about the whole thing. I asked her afterwards if she had minded seeing me like that and she just said: ‘No, of course not. I cry sometimes, so why can’t you?’ What a girl.
Ask if they’d like to come to the funeral. When we asked my daughter about it she said: ‘I think it’s important for us to come too. I mean, he was in our family too, not just in yours, and we should all go and say goodbye.’ Really, they blow me away sometimes.
Ask the nearest relatives what children should wear. All black can be inappropriately sombre for children, so I always customise a normal outfit for a funeral. I make tiny black velvet drawstring bags for a handkerchief and some essential ‘keep ‘em quiet’ sweets, tie black ribbons in the girls’ hair and around their waist, and make sure they all have black shoes. This way they look very smart, respectful and funereal without going over the top. On one occasion my son wore some grey trousers and a shirt and waistcoat that I borrowed from a friend, and looked lovely. If black is expected, though, then you should go along with that. Ask, and you’ll not go wrong.
Take it easy. With emotions so high, it’s possible for things to be said that really shouldn’t be. If you can try to keep all other family ructions out of the equation for the day, it’ll be a lot easier for everyone.
While we’re on the cheery subject of death, it’s a very, very good idea to have a will made up once you become a family and actually deal with the issues of who would look after the kids, who you would leave what to, and suchlike. It’s something most people don’t want to think about, are superstitious about, or just can’t be bothered to do, but the amount of heartache, work and confusion that is caused by two people dying and leaving no will is pretty huge, and that’s not fair on anyone. If you want to find out how to go about it, then go online and search under ‘making a will’, and you’ll find hundreds of websites offering advice and information. Alternatively, speak to somebody who has done it and ask them for their top tips.
Family parties
Birthdays, wedding anniversaries, christenings—there’s always a reason to have a family party, and always a possibility that something will go wrong if you have kids in tow. Children have this knack of going ever so slightly over the top, and turning an enjoyable occasion into something almost as fun as having your fingernails pulled out by George Clooney—what could be so much fun somehow turns into a living hell. As the parents, it’s your unfortunate duty to spot when this is about to happen, and make swift moves to diffuse an imminent explosion.
Don’t bring your troubles to a party. Bring a bottle, of course, but don’t bring your bottled-up issues. Having a husband-and-wife spat at Great Uncle George’s eightieth is unforgivable. If you must, then avoid each other for the duration, and have the row when you get home. Ditto for disagreements you are having with your kids: save it for another time.
Don’t tell your children about the party until you’re about to go there. If they have three weeks to get excited, they will be so wound up by the time it comes you’ll be scraping them off the ceiling. And that’s before they’re plied with chocolates, fizzy drinks and those wretched orange crisps. Some degree of anticipation is fun, but more than a day or two is asking for trouble.
Bring something for kids to do. Just a few books or small toys can save the day. Having something for your kids to do while you natter away for hours about boring adult stuff can mean the difference between staying all day and leaving as soon as the speeches are over.
Be prepared to take the kids out for a while. Children can get rather excited at parties, and this is almost always followed by mild hysteria and large amounts of noise, and possible damage to valuable pieces of china. If there’s a park nearby you are saved, but otherwise just a quick walk around the block really helps to calm them down.
Time out. If it all gets too much for you, then find a quiet corner to get some peace and recharge, before you face the mob again. I always have to do this at large gatherings, and taking a moment to be alone with your children or to help in the kitchen can be just the ticket.
Christmas
I used to love Christmas: just me, my brother, my mum and dad, and my grandparents. A few presents, some nice food, crackers, staying up late, leaving a mince pie and some brandy for Father Christmas, stockings and huge amounts of excitement. It was simple, it was fun and it was a close family occasion.
These days I have to confess that I have come to loathe the very idea of Christmas. Not for any religious reasons, or because there’s never anything I really want any more, but because of the whole hoopla attached to the event. The run-up to Christmas starts in mid-August now, with shops putting up baubles and magazines running features about Christmas wrapping ideas or places to visit over the festive holidays while the scent of Ambre Solaire is still in the air.
Then there is the sheer volume of presents kids get nowadays, brought on by the fact that they have more friends and relatives than they can shake a candy stick at, who give not one, not two, but at least three things each, most of which cost well over £20 and none of which the children need! At school they give teachers presents, they give each other presents, they give the school pets presents, and we, the overwhelmed parents, can feel under quite a lot of pressure to dig deep and give, give and give some more.
Top this off with the unnecessary but inevitable stress associated with cooking a Christmas dinner, plus all the meals, snacks, nibbles and alcohol apparently required to keep everyone happy, a huge number of relatives, high emotions and utter bollocks on telly, and you have a recipe for some kind of explosion. I find Christmas to be a very trying experience all round, and I know I’m not alone because some of my friends have told me they feel the same way since having kids.
Here are some ways of making it more enjoyable for the whole family:
Where to have it. If both of your parents are still alive, and still talking to you, there is always the awkward question of whose parents you spend Christmas with. Our solution is to take turns, which is very diplomatic, and it’s what most of our friends do. Alternatively, spend Christmas with one lot and New
