My husband and I have combined the raising of our children whilst both holding down near full-time jobs.  I say ‘near’ because we don’t work full time in the traditional sense, sitting at our desks for a full 35 or 40 hours (or more) week, rather, our work and home life is an elegant blend of all that needs to get done to keep food on the table and the children occupied.  Often that does result in 40+ hours of ‘work’, but other times it is more about the achievement of a goal or a project, irrespective of whether it can be done in 2 hours or 20.  Time is not the factor but results.  And they must work harmoniously with all other aspects of our lives too, including, and especially, the raising of our children, that most important job of all.
 
It is often easy to make the assumption that looking after children and working is an inherent trade off.  And this is certainly something that our binary world likes to assume.  But I have often found that the blending of work and family life creates an interplay between the two aspects of our lives that elegantly support each other also.

Most notably for me is the creative ‘pauses’, or breathing spaces, that a break from work can engender.  I have often felt torn from my creative endeavours when the children wake up in the morning (and I haven’t yet got my full 2 hours of writing in before they do).  Or distracted by the messages coming in to my phone as soon as the workday starts and it is my turn to be with the children.  But my desire to be fully present for my children when I am not working often results in ‘breathing spaces’ when thoughts and ideas come bidden that serve my work too.
 
It is well-documented that creative ideas often come when occupied doing something entirely different than the problem at hand.  In my single years, I would rise from my desk when faced with a problem, and perhaps go for a walk, or make a cup of tea. Later still in the day, when washing up, or taking a shower, the solution would come, crystal clear, unbidden, yet shining as the light of day.  It seemed the problem needed me to ‘let go’ in order to gain clarity and take shape, and my focus on something else allowed the solution to emerge.
 
So, too, I have found that the way my day is broken up into bouts of work and childrearing creates those ‘pauses’ that enable me to stay open to solutions, whilst focusing entirely on the needs of the children.  The time spent with them never needs to harm the work and often enriches it.
 
This is not to say either that childrearing is merely a useful ‘break’ from the business of work.  Rather it is to say that ‘all things work together for good’ to ensure that everything that has to get done in the business of daily life are not in conflict with each other and can blend in a harmonious whole.
 
There has been much discussion of the impact that the lockdown is having on women’s professional lives, torn as they often are between the demands of domestic life and the professional sphere.  There is a separate discussion here on the importance for men to take their equal share (something I write about in many of my other blogs and which is a core principle in my own partnership and, I believe, the solution to that particular problem).  But I think the separation of work and all other aspects of life is yet another argument for the separation of self that we are so encouraged to embody in today’s world.  The idea that our different spheres might support each other is scarcely encouraged but I have found it to be true.  My professional life needs breaks to allow creative ideas to flow and the ‘nowness’ and the being in the moment that is so important for children allows those ‘thoughts unbidden’ to flow in a way I had never imagined.  And remind me of the paramount importance of being present in our relationships in whatever sphere.
 
That is to say, also, that employers might find a way to be more open to the needs of the time as we are in now, and to recognise that time spent in a different way can be just as beneficial – dare I so, even more so – than sitting at our desk ‘producing’ all the time.  It is too narrow to assume ‘work’ as a function of output, rather than the creation of ideas and strategies and focus on solutions.  That ‘results’ can be achieved in many ways and that it rarely has much to do with the number of hours put in.
 
Just as it is important for our children to see and respect our work for their own development and maturity, so too, is work benefitted by those times with our children.
 
And those unstructured times parallel the learning our own children gain when life is freer, more open to discovery and with a focus on the moment, those times that you want to give to your children when not working.  So much of the discussion has been about the ‘failure’ for children to follow their school ‘lessons’ during lockdown, rather than taking advantage of the richness of life learning that the Great Pause has given us.  The chance to play more, to connect with siblings, to be forced to confront ‘togetherness’ without any opportunity for escape and to get heads out of books and into the real-life business of learning that school so often stifles has the potential to be a great gift to our children, and to ourselves and our relationship with them.
 
Those unstructured moments when we are not working or checking our phones, allow for the creative breathing spaces that allow fresh ideas to emerge.  We owe it to ourselves, and our children too, to honour those times when life is lived now and in the moment, and to take the guidance that comes, the ideas that emerge, and the learning that is lived, into both our present and our futures for all of us.

My husband and I made the decision to keep our children at home with with us in their early years, instead of putting them in full-time childcare or getting a nanny.  But neither of us wished to give up work and it certainly wasn’t the default that I, as the woman, would be the one to make the sacrifice.  Instead, we have found a model that enables us to still put in at least a 35 – 40 hour week, whilst still being very present for our children and being together as a family as much as possible.
 
Our typical day usually looks like this:
 
5am                 Get up and prepare for the day mentally and spiritually. This is important for us to take care of ourselves, feel grounded and ready to be able to have the mental energy for small children :-)
 
6 – 8am           This is when I do my writing and the more creative side of my work.  As an entrepreneur, writer and thought-leader, I relish the time to be free of email and team leadership to really get creative and set up my day with what I'm most passionate about.
 
7.30/7.45        Team meeting with my husband and I to discuss the day's activities and any life admin stuff
 
8am                 Breakfast all together as a family
 
8.30am            Shower and get ready for the day
 
9am                 My husband starts his day: he works all morning whilst I am with our girls.  The baby usually naps between 10am and midday, leaving me to spend time with our pre-schooler, reading, playing puzzles, cooking or being in the garden (as well as processing the enormous piles of washing that is the reality of having 5 children between us!)
 
1pm                 Lunch all together as a family
 
2pm                 Both toddler and pre-schooler take their afternoon nap; this is when I go to my office and typically deal with team meetings, emails, project work, fundraising and business development, my husband also works during this time
 
4.30pm            Baby and toddler wake up and my husband takes over whilst I continue to work.  He usually does the cleaning in this time
 
6.30pm            Dinner prepared by my husband.
 
7pm                 Bath, story and bed for our baby, toddler in bed by 8pm
 
8pm                 Spend time with my husband (we make sure to have twice-weekly 'date nights' even if we have to stay home - watching a movie or working on a shared project together); or reading time.  I consider my reading time to still be ‘work’ as it informs my writing and helps me keep up with what I need to know as a thought-leader in the area of global leadership 
 
My work day is thus divided up into particular bursts: two hours of creative work and content creation in the morning; an afternoon of meetings and emails (4 and a half hours); 1 – 2 hours of reading and learning in the evening.  The breaking up of the work day enables me to also have some discipline in what is truly important in ‘work’, forcing me to compartmentalise and not spend the entire day on emails and the ‘busyness’ of work but, equally importantly the creative and thought-leadership side. There is some variation within this – I work Wednesday mornings instead of afternoons to enable me to speak to my team in China (the time difference makes it impossible to do this in the afternoon) as well as take my daughters into Paris on a Wednesday afternoon for English-language programmes in the city.  I also work Saturday afternoons whilst my husband is with his older children and to compensate for slightly less time than my husband during the week. Over the course of the week, my husband and I are therefore able to put in about 35 – 40 hours per week, often more as we regularly get up even earlier than 5am!
 
Our daughters have been very good sleepers which certainly makes things abit easier.  I sometimes joke that our girls know their parents are entrepreneurs and have wised up to the fact that sleeping longer enables them to be able to stay at home with us instead of going into childcare.  But, it’s important to us that, even as they grow up, they are able to be comfortable playing on their own and taking quiet time as it is well-documented how important it is to raise children at ease with themselves, able to spend time reading and developing their imagination without constant stimulation from other people.
 
If the girls do wake up early, they are encouraged to play quietly until we have finished.  We talk often to them about what our work is, how work is an expression of contribution to the world, and how important it is to love what they do. We believe that work can and should be an integral part of life, not separated from the other demands of everyday living, and that we bring our children up to understand their responsibilities to the wider world too.
 
We’ve found this schedule really works well for us but it might not work for everyone.  And I’d love to learn from others too! What do you do to make it work in your own work-family life balance?  Please do post your comments below!

Yesterday, we made the painful decision to cancel our trip to Australia.  After nearly 3 years in the planning, and in the grip of fear of the spread of the coronavirus, the Australian government declared the necessity of quarantining new arrivals for 14 days which would make our trip completely impractical.  Even if we were to sit the quarantine out, the writing is on the wall of complete lockdown for all other events in the ensuing weeks. 
 
I had been looking forward to one of our first trips since giving birth last year and to really testing out 'baby in a backpack' with a pre-schooler and soon-to-be-toddler.  I had definitely been having anxious thoughts about entertaining the said little ones for such a long journey but we were generally excited and raring to go.  But the inevitability of the situation meant that we felt it necessary to cancel.
 
But I’m grateful that this enforced lockdown period is helping us all to evaluate what’s important in life.  My husband and I were already making steps towards limiting our carbon footprint and thinking through what it would mean to be ‘global, yet local’ and this new situation is indeed calling into question the values and life choices that we make on a daily basis.  Having been born and brought up in Hong Kong, and having had the privilege to have travelled to over 50 countries, it is important to me that my own children benefit from a global perspective and develop a confidence and comfort in being in new places and learning from others.  And with the rise in nationalism and increasing xenophobia in the world, I am determined to keep opening my mind, heart and thought to others.  But with the rapid onset of climate change, I had been wondering what we need to do to express the spirit of adventure in a way that respects our climate. Coronavirus notwithstanding, here are some steps we had already been thinking through:

1. To only travel by air for work.  My husband and I have jobs that require travel and we often find ways to combine our work trips with some rest and relaxation time with the children.  We try to travel as a family and use the opportunity as an educational experience for the children and the chance to open their thought to new cultures and experiences.  I am pleased to say that, at the delicate ages of one and nearly 3, both of our girls are both extremely comfortable with others (neither of them have ever experienced the famed ‘separation anxiety’ so common in children of that age), curious and oblivious to skin colours and culinary differences.
2. No air travel for holidays. We have decided to limit flight travel for holidays, preferring to take the train or drive our big family to southern France, the UK or Italy for family holidays, meaning that we limit the carbon footprint per head.  We are so blessed to live on an exceptionally beautiful continent with easy access to some stunning vacation spots so we feel it is right to take advantage of this instead of seeking holidays further afield.
3. Make a contribution wherever we go.  We judge the validity of taking transcontinental flights by the degree to which we can contribute to the community where we are going.  In my husband’s work as a lecturer on spirituality and my own work with migrants and refugees, we each seek to explore avenues to share what we do, no matter whether it is my husband or I who are principally motivating the trip.
4. Carbon offsetting.   It’s not the whole solution, but it’s better than nothing.
5. Take trains and buses wherever possible. This allows you to see more too!
6. Opening our home to others.  This is travel from where you are grounded.  Having lived all over the world myself, I am blessed with a large cohort of friends from all over and we open and extend our home to others on a regular basis.  We love to come together with food and ideas from different corners of the world and, to me, it expresses perfectly that blending of both ‘going out’ but also ‘welcoming in’ which is such an important part of being a global citizen.

 
There is already much evidence and conversation circulating the internet about the impact that the enforced lockdown is having on our climate, with clear skies in China, and a return to the appreciation of nature and the great outdoors as people look for alternatives to cooped-up city living whilst still 'physical distancing'.  And it is heartening to consider how this period of battening down the hatches and staying in the moment with more simple life pleasures could help us transform our ideas about what is truly necessary in life.
 
So, I for one, will welcome the opportunity to do some armchair travel in the coming months, reading books, exploring the garden and surrounding woods with my little ones, and opening my thought to what ‘adventures’ there are to be had in my mind.  Baby in a backpack has always been metaphorical, not just literal, and, whilst I hope we won’t be packing away the suitcases for ever, I look forward to a reframing of what true adventure means!

One of the things that struck me the most when I became pregnant with my first child was the extent to which the preparation we are given revolves mostly around the purely material needs of the child.  Aside from the inevitable tests, scans, doctors appointments in pregnancy, we are then inducted into the whys, hows and wherefores of managing baby sleep, breastfeeding, safety and the very best purchases to make for your baby. 
 
All of this is good stuff and has a purpose in preparing for the new arrival.  But it saddens me to see that there is so very little discussion around the importance of setting a long-term vision for the raising of your child.
 
We need to remember that, in taking on the very important responsibility of raising a child, to keep in mind the end result.  I hesitate to use this analogy but, like the CEO of a company, we need to set a long-term vision for where we are heading, in order to lead our team effectively.  As an entrepreneur myself, I see parallels in being custodian of a company with purpose and the responsibility I have with my own children to help guide them into our world.  Indeed, it is especially important that those of us who have a desire to make a contribution of the world should exercise that same vision in the raising of our children.
 
But what does this mean?
 
It means having a long-term vision of the health, happiness and contribution of your child and setting that up right from the beginning.  It is well-documented that children have some of their most profound learning experiences in the period 0 – 3 years old.  So many opportunities for learning!  To my mind, and this is borne of experience, we gravely underestimate what even young toddlers are capable of learning and absorbing.  Even a two year old can understand the value and importance of saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, of helping others, how to care for our environment, tidy up after they use their toys, of being respectful and, even, how to eat out in a restaurant.
 
This is not a denial of the realities of raising children (especially toddlers and babies) who, even at the best of times, have minds of their own!  But it is to raise them with an expectation of GOOD, that we all have within us the power to be loving, kind, respectful human beings.  And our parenting should reflect that expectation, never limiting them and always holding onto that vision of the adult you hope they become, not just the (usually) adorable child they are now.  It’s about holding onto the now with one eye on the future too.
 
Why is this important?
 
All around us we see evidence of bad parenting.  It’s not just the usual suspects, children brought up in homes where poverty, alcohol abuse, domestic violence are the norm and where raising children well is so stacked against you.  Bad parenting is surprisingly common in even very affluent and educated families.  When a child pushes another child in the playground and the parent says nothing; when we allow our own children to demand something of us without learning the norms of social behaviour; when we limit our children in terms of what we think they are capable of; when parents of sons stand by as they hit their sisters – these all sow the seeds for the adult bad behaviour that we see around ourselves constantly.
 
Too often, we don’t set our standards of love high enough.  We confuse love with pleasing others, doing whatever we can do to give them what they want.  Which is not always what they need.  True love, to me, has a bigger vision for the potential of another person.  It is to have a longer-term vision for what they are capable of and help them to rise to that.  It is helping our children to be the people they are capable of being, and not keeping them small with limited expectations.  It is the difference between allowing a child to demand what they want right now, rather than helping them to ask graciously and kindly for what they would like, thereby setting them up for a life where they can get what they need with love.
 
This is not to cast judgement on parents, nor is it to say children should grow up too soon. Rather it is to be aware of our responsibilities.  Our children today are growing up in a world that is falling apart in terms of standards by which we treat other people and the natural world.  It’s now acceptable for a president of a country to make derogatory comments about women and get away with it;  for our politicians and heads of state to lie and say inflammatory things about people who are ‘not like us’; to engage in rampant consumerism, with little thought for the future of the planet; and for teenagers and adults alike to bully others online. We want our children to grow up in a world that is warm, safe, welcoming, so we must ensure that when we raise them we are both modelling behaviour that elevates ourselves and others and articulating to them how to navigate the world with decency, dignity and respect for everyone.
 
Only then will we be truly prepared to raise a child in this world.

We've just come back from a trip to the US, as my husband and I had fundraising and work meetings on the East Coast.  We had a wonderful and productive time, both personally and professionally and lots of fun too boot! 

Here are a few highlights of our trip:

Pumpkin spotting during Halloween
The Americans go all out at Halloween to decorate their houses with ghosts, witches and pumpkins and we had so much fun spotting pumpkins as we travelled

Encouraging our little ones to enjoy food and eating out is an important part of family life for us and the girls did us proud wherever we went.  They both seemed to love it and we received lots of compliments from fellow diners about how well-behaved they were :-)  At one point, my toddler nearly had a melt down at a restaurant we went to and I explained how much we enjoyed having her with us when we go to a restaurant and how much we need to be respectful of other diners and not make too much noise.  We encouraged her that she could be part of all sorts of adult things if she could be 'like a big girl' when we go to restaurants.  We feel it's important that our children can be part of adult life where appropriate and that they learn what that means.  She totally got it and we had a lovely evening!

Next step, the White House, and a Halloween gift from the Secret Services :-)

New York as ever was fabulous and was so proud of my Broadway babies discovering the city with Papa whilst Mummy went to her meetings.

It’s been a long journey but I think we are getting there.  My stepchildren have valiantly taken on the challenge of being subjected to my cooking these past two weeks and have reluctantly conceded that there may, in fact, be more to life than the staples of French cuisine……
 
Let me backtrack somewhat.
 
I come from a long-line of family cooks, my mother and grandmother being legendary in their hosting and cooking skills, and I too love to cook.  Whilst baking is probably still one of my favourite things to do, I also adore cooking in all it’s forms and especially love cooking food that embraces the colour and vibrancy of the places where I have travelled.  In the different homes I have had across the world, I have offered up lunches and dinners, parties and afternoon teas, picnics and soirees in different forms and I love, love, love opening my home and dining table to all who cross the threshold of our experience.
 
I adore food that is flavoursome and diverse, evidence of a world full of colour and delight, diversity and expression of the myriad gifts that different cultures can bring.  This past few weeks, I’ve been delving into the recipes of ‘Persiana’, cooking influenced by the Middle East, as well as incorporating other dishes inspired by my travels – and what’s available in our herb garden too!
 
However, my stepchildren, have, in the past, revolted against my desire to introduce them to new foods.  On one momentous occasion, even the humble Victoria sponge cake was rejected on the basis that ‘jam doesn’t belong in cake’.  Now, I realise I am living in the country supposed to be the cradle of the world’s most sophisticated cuisine but I have come to learn that, much as I love a good boeuf bourgignon or a yummy tarte aux fraises, French cuisine has, unfortunately, ossified into a state of complacency and  is failing to keep up with the times .  And that famed French arrogance could do with taking down a peg or two.  Indeed, it has become a great sadness to me to find this resistance to change is holding France back so much in so many areas of life and I see the small battles I face at my dining table symptomatic of so much that needs to change. 
 ​

So, it has been a small victory to observe three or four teenagers gobbling up the fare I have offered these past few weeks of the summer holiday:
 
On the menu has been chicken with saffron and rosemary with ‘mojardara’ rice, lentils and friend onion; feta, courgette and mint muffins; sun-dried tomato, mozzarella, spinach and basil filo parcels; roasting tray vegetables with chick-peas; Camargue red rice with grilled vegetables and an orange and honey dressing; garden-grown rhubarb and marzipan crumble (offered with English custard – yay!); and the decadent rose, cardamom, vanilla, pistachio and honey rice pudding.  I’ve had a particular fondness for rose-flavoured food this summer, starting off with my English-rose cake at our pudding party.  Rose is a frequent flavour in Middle East cooking and Persiana provides a lot of it.  Yum!
 
 
To me, food is about love.  It’s about providing abundance and bounty for everyone, creating a table for everyone to congregate at the end of each day, sharing news and swapping stories, laughing and interrupting, occasionally fighting and debating but always embracing the diversity of the people around the table and the food on their plates. And conspiring to change the world to boot.  To love that diversity is to welcome and embrace everyone at your table.  And that diversity is a spiritual quality that I take deeply and dearly into my home and family.
 
Bon appetit!
 ​