And then by magic and/or miracle, he turned 5.

Every single day, I question how the hell no one has taken my children away from me yet. Mostly because my parenting skills are diabolical, and I shout a lot, and have been known to feed them crap, and sometimes I’m a smart mouth with them when they ask one too many questions (which, of course, is all the time). Yet however, they are still alive, and even more astonishing is the fact that Noah made it to his 5th birthday last week.

I confess I patted myself on the back by drinking a bottle of Champagne, amazed with the sheer fact that I have made it this far without major disaster.

Which I’m pretty sure is imminent.

So, happy birthday kiddo. I love you a whole shit load, and I know for a fact I should say it to you more often, but I guess that’s what comes with being a bit of a crap mom. But you already know it though, right? I think the very fact that, one of the biggest presents you wanted for your birthday, was a cake with a picture of your family on it (which I didn’t get to do, and even though you said it’s ok if it doesn’t work because at least I tried {I did try}, you made things even better by saying it was ok because I could just take a photo of the 4 of us anyway, and you could have it from my polaroid and keep it with you).

I did that for you, but I hope you don’t mind that I put it in a tiny little frame for you, because then you can keep it on the unit downstairs and see it all the time. And that’s cool too, because it’s right next to your favourite place to play.

I hope you had an ace birthday; opening presents at home, lunch at Grandma and Granddad’s house, and then the Sea Life Centre the next day (you asked to go to an aquarium, and Daddy and I were over the MOON because we’d already planned the day out when you asked to go).

I love you, Noah. x

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Happy Birthday, little wee blog.

On a Tuesday, much like this one, 5 years ago to the day, I started my blog. I didn’t even give the first post a title. I had no idea what I was doing; all I knew was that I had a lot of stuff I wanted to say and document, and I wanted a way of doing it knowing that I could check back any time I liked.

People ask me “why do you blog”? Well, first and foremost, my blog is my voice. Without it, I’m in a whooooooooole lot of trouble. I know for a fact that without my little space here on the interwebs, I wouldn’t be alive today. I also wouldn’t have a ton of stories to tell me kiddos as they get older. I also wouldn’t be able to read back on the fucking awesome highs and the desperately hideous lows.

I’ve been through a ton of stuff. Had people throw crap at me here, had people offer all the support in the world here, made friends here, lost friends here, given away a dildo here, saw the creation of a dildo here, birthed 2 bloody large kids here, laughed, cried, ranted, chatted…SO. MUCH. STUFF.

If there’s one thing I’m proud of, is that I tried as much as I could to stay true to myself. I’ve done the odd review here and there, and stayed very honest with them (however I’m done with shit PR requests and have now changed my view on all of that bollocks…).

I’ve travelled to different parts of the world with this blog, taking all 6 of my readers along with me (I assume 6; it could be more. Maybe 9. I’m not sure, I’m not a stats whore I’m afraid) and oh yeah! I’ve refrained from becoming a stats whore. Which weirdly, feels like one of my greatest achievements.

I’ve become part of a team of ladies who help the anonymous blogging “community” (whilst fending off people who feel the need to make a song and dance deal for no reason at all, every time they feature an anonymous post – they {you} know who they {you} are, and dude{s}, I’d rather they {you} just kept their {your} distance to be honest, you know? It’s just creeps me a bit) and Blognonymous has helped a LOT of people find a voice where they were otherwise silenced. I understand the importance of that. SO. Very. Much. Our hearts have always been in the right place.

Shit, I could go on all day about the ton of crap I’ve lived through in this blog. It’s been an absolute hell of a ride, but the biggest and most important thing for me, as I keep saying over and over again, is that my blog IS STILL MY VOICE. I’ve felt censored a few times, for sure. I’ve written posts which have probably rubbed people up the wrong way, unintentionally. Fact is, I’m not here to please everyone. I didn’t sart this blog for other people.

I will continue to write. I’m going through an uncomfortable dry patch, while I try to balance JMP with being a mom of sorts and a wife in a fashion and maintaining bacon consumption. It’s a fucking difficult balance, I have no idea how I’m doing it, and shitting hell things are REALLY rough right now. But it’s ok, because I have my voice. I can still speak. 5 years later, I can still speak. That’s a good thing.

Happy birthday, Voice. Happy birthday, Blog. Been a hell of a journey so far, and still so much further to go, eh?

Happy Birthday, Little Small

AND THEN, he was like, 3, and stuff. Faces covered in scars and bruises, noses streaming with crusty bogies and snot, still in their pyjamas for half the day.

Still cute though. And that’s just the way I would like to remember Isaac’s 3rd birthday.

Happy Birthday, Little Small. Keep smiling this smile, ok?

Happy Birthday, Little Small. Keep smiling this smile, ok?

See? I TOTALLY know my kids.

In the car driving home from school

Me: Isaac, it’s your birthday soon!

Isaac: My birthday!!!!

Noah: Yes! And I think we should get Isaac some presents.

I: My birthday! I think I’ll have CAKE.

N: Mommy, can I get Isaac a present?

MBM: Of course, Noah, what would you like to get him?

N: I think Isaac should have a new cup, a blue one.

MBM: Ok, maybe we could get a blue bowl and plate to match, too? (I had been to Sainsbury’s that morning…)

N: That’s a great idea Mommy, I think we should get him a Thomas the Tank bowl and plate!

MBM: BRILLIANT idea Noah. (The bowl and plate sitting at home waiting to be wrapped up have Thomas the Tank Engine on them. FUCK YEAH.)

After a brief but in-depth discussion of exactly how many days and sleeps there are between today (Thursday) and Isaac’s birthday (Saturday):

N: Isaac, would you like a birthday cake?

I: My birthday! I’m going to have CAKE.

N: Isaac, what cake would you like?

MBM: (Clench – I’ve already bought the cake)

I: LIGHTNING MUCK THE QUEEN!!!!

MBM: (Unclench – miraculously the cake I chose was Lightning McQueen)

N: Can you do that Mommy? Can you do a Lightning McQueen cake?

MBM: Ummm, I’ll have to see what I can do. (Secretly grinning like a smug git.)

N: You need to get some red, Mommy. You need red to make Lightning McQueen cake for Isaac.

I: My birthday! With Lightning McQueen cake?

MBM: I’ll see what I can do, Isaac.

I: And presents! My birthday will have PRESENTS!!

MBM: (I remember the bag full of bits and pieces to make up party bags since we can’t afford a big party) Isaac would you like to take some goodie bags to school with toys and cake for your friends?

I: NO.

MBM: … (Dammit. So close.)

Pox Watch Day 3 – Current Observations and Birthday Thoughts

1. The spots. Will appear. Everywhere. And anywhere. If you can think of a place, they’re there. Oh, they are THERE.

2. I do not do well waking up every 1-2 hours.

3. Piriton does NOT make Isaac fall asleep.

4. Isaac let me eat my birthday breakfast of a plate of bacon. Whilst he may be ill, he is still considerate.

5. We have taught him well.

6. The Gruffalo, on repeat, somehow doesn’t get old.

7. Peppa Pig, on repeat, becomes tedious.

8. It’s amazing how you discover exactly how your body is able to mould itself into the shape of a sofa as your kid makes themselves comfy on your lap.

9. Snuggling with Isaac on a real sofa with a Graze.com box is lovely. Until he eats all your vanilla infused cherries.

10. It’s really hard to remain patient, when shit loads of lovely people suggest things to make your kiddo feel better and you’ve pretty much tried them all already. And nothing is working.

11. People are incredibly helpful.

12. It’s really ok to have some of the birthday Prosecco for your lunch, under the circumstances.

13. Somethings just do not distract from the pain. Including Lego. This makes me really sad.

14. What I think is “humour” can be really misunderstood by people who don’t really know me.

15. I have a darker sense of humour than I thought. Especially on minimal sleep and with poorly sick child.

16. It occurs to me I’m still waiting for the panic of turning 30 to settle in. 3 years ago.

17. Trying not to lose your rag when your kid is wailing for help, and you keep telling them you are doing everything you can and they just need to calm down and listen, but they keep wailing anyway, is REALLY hard. Frustration is a bitch.

18. It’s amazing how some “pyjama days” aren’t as good as you might like, and especially when all you want to do is throw yourself in the shower. *scratches*

19. I hate feeling guilty for wanting to be selfish for just 5 minutes. Just because the very poorly child with a rash the size of Africa covering his groin area, and yelled and cried all the time I was opening my presents. And yet is now sat quite happily on the sofa watching Octonauts.

20. Birthdays, Chicken Pox and children. You just can’t predict them.