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The Mad Life of a Father of Four Boys

My wife Sharon and I intended to have three kids. After the stressful drama we went through with the birth of our first child, over the following four years we had two more children, thankfully far less dramatically. Their names are Darren and Adam, and yes, you guessed it, they are also boys.

We lived in a ground floor flat, otherwise known as an apartment, on the northern outskirts of London. The eldest two shared a bedroom, our third child had a smaller single bedroom to himself. The flat was a decent size, but the winter months easily defeated the best efforts of our old central heating.

Money was tight, but I always managed to make enough for the basics and some more besides. We had two old but reliable cars. The family car was a mini. Back then the mini was much smaller and truly lived up to its name. On a family trip, the tiny car managed just enough room in the back to fit all three of our young kids. Once the wife and I snuggled into the front, off we would drive…somehow! It was cramped, and noisy and the metal was very thin. Each time I think back I can’t but shake my head at the risks we took in that small box on wheels. I guess we were still young and stupid enough to feel immortal.

Ten years on, with our kids growing up and with us now living in a lovely area near a forest in West Sussex, surprise, surprise, my wife fell pregnant and nine months later our final son was born, unplanned, but much loved. His smile, his ways, his life, brought a constant joy into our and his brothers’ lives. His name is Daniel. Like our other sons, he was a son and now a man to be proud of.

As anyone who has had, or currently has, a large family will testify, having four lively kids consumes most of your time, your thoughts, what you plan to do over the weekend; and anything else you have going on. We lived a six-way life together. Sometimes it wore us down, drove us mad and exhausted us out. Other times life flowed free and wild. One thing was for sure; there was hardly ever a quiet moment.

It’s true that the more you take on, get involved with, have as part of your life, the more things can go wrong, the more you can be hurt, and the more you can experience the fingers of hell. However, it also means the more potential happiness you can experience when things go right. The feeling of worth when a good deed hard worked at is well done. The self-respect you have when getting through the hard knocks and lower temptations of life.

Sure, if you lived a quiet, risk free life, not much can go wrong, but not much can go right, either. Where is the fun in that?

After all life is there to be lived, despite the possible knocks received while doing so. Sure take care, but don’t miss out on honest excitement. When your body is reaching its end, make sure you don’t feel that you should have done more.

In my books, I try to show how each adventure has its own risks, terrible grief and its own excitements and how all that makes for life’s living lightning.

Thank you again for reading my books and my blogs.

Bye for now.