Brighton Boy

20.01.12.

Today's (badly shot and over-exposed) photo was taken on Friday afternoon. I'm blogging on Monday afternoon - more on that later. This is a very familiar pose for Dexter, all strapped up in his car seat, although granted, not always looking so jolly. The boy spends a lot of time in his car seat because I spend a lot of time ferrying him to and from nursery whilst I go to work.

The school I work at is miles away - a good forty-five minutes to an hour in the car. I like working there, but I also like living in Brighton. It's really special to me that Dexter was born in Brighton, and we'd like him to live here for as long as possible.

I want Dexter to be a Brighton boy for many reasons. I want him to learn acceptance, tolerance and liberal thinking. Whilst he is not being raised on a diet of mung beans and I will never condone dreadlocks, I want the boy to be accepting of people from all backgrounds, colour and sexuality. I don't want him to blush at the sight of couples holding hands, regardless of their gender, or be freaked out by 'ladies' called Trevor with deep voices and suspiciously big hands. I want him to embrace the vibrant cultural and arts scene here: maybe one day he'll be involved in the Festival.

There are of course downsides to raising a child anywhere, and Brighton is no exception. 'Dexters' are ten-a-penny; I hated bottle-feeding him in public when he was tiny for fear of being lynched by the Brighton 'Breast-apo'; I will probably never find anywhere decent to get him his first haircut as it seems to be mandatory here for little boys to sport androgynous locks until the age of nineteen. If he spends his adult life here, there is of course the fact that his sole mode of transport will be the skateboard and his occupation of choice will be DJ/photographer/interpretative dancer/puppeteer. Ah well, as ever, whatever makes the boy happy.