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Dear So and So…Wicked Week Edition
November 25, 2011 By 3 Comments
NOTE – had a wanky week? Read this.
Dear Little Small
OMFG you know the phonic sounds for half the alphabet already? Please don’t be more intelligent than me (although not difficult) because I will never keep.
You should also remember you’re only 2 and a half, you have plenty of time. And please put that book down and stop looking like a smart ass.
Love, Your Mother (insanely proud and a little terrified.)
~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~
Dear Big Small
Knowing all your phonics sounds AND being able to read more than 10 words AND repeatedly being complimented on your school behaviour, is actually the bomb-diggedy. Given your speech stress we had, and the constant wonder in my mind if we would ever have a conversation with you, well, you’ve pretty much blown all that shit out of the water. In fact, we pretty much can’t get you to STFU and your questions…well. I don’t think I need to buy Isaac an encyclopaedia, because quite frankly, he’ll have you instead.
Love, Your Mother (insanely proud and planning to do more GCSE’s and A Levels.)
~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~
Dear Work*
ZOMG. Just as I’m on the verge of writing a really fucking whiny post about how life sucks and how I have no energy to do any more and how start-up business is quite possibly the one thing that will kill me, I get my wedding photography featured on TWO BLOGS in ONE DAY, get an order from a client which involves 130 prints (yes, from one client), plus asked by the school headmaster’s wife to photograph people for the school fayre and Santa’s Grotto, plus kicking SEO and Google Adwords in the BALLS (cahoonas, testicles, nuts, plums, crown jewels, happy-sacks, scrotes, two-veg, , , , , , , , , , , , … you see what we did there?), plus finally being set on all my logo designs, plus more client enquiries, plus omg I have done all of this from scratch with the help of some people whom I would sleep with in a heartbeat (and one of them I actually do sleep with)…
Yeah, you’re pretty sweet right now.
Bittersweet-exhausted love, Jay Mountford, Birmingham Wedding Photographer
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Dear The Mr
Happy 5 years of marriage. I fucking love you, I do. Maybe we will have sex tonight (or not, depending on how much champagne we get through during our fancy meal tonight. Drunken fumblings, I suspect. Our two gorgeous children pretty much exhaust me).
Much, MUCH love , The Mrs xxx
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Dear Finances
C’mon people, c’mon…I just need you to place those big orders you’re talking about in the next week so I can afford to buy a Christmas card…c’mooonnnn….
Yours, truly skint, Jay
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Dear Readers
FUCK YEAH.
* Yes I know it’s riddled with SEO. Fucking obvious, innit? Duh.
Dear So and So…Wanky Week Edition
November 25, 2011 By 7 Comments
NOTE – had a wicked week? Read this.
Dear Little Small
We’re all pretty much done with your whining and shit now.
Make it stop.
That is not a request.
Love, Your Mother (who knows for how much longer)
~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~
Dear Big Small
As my mother used to say, “Yuh ears hole nuh bore?”
When we ask you to do something, it would be lovely if you did it first time, rather than ignoring us for the umpteenth time.
And then staring at us blankly. I vowed never to do the whole “am I speaking another language?!?” thing, and today you made me do it.
Not cool.
Love, Your Mother (plotting your eBay sale as we speak)
~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~
Dear Illness
What. The. Holy. Fuck.
Are you shitting me? Like, seriously? It’s time to move on. I don’t even know what you are, but seriously. Piss. The. Piss. Off.
I’m not even going to give you the joy of closure here. Just piss off.
~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~≈~
Dear The Mr
I have absolutely no money, or strength, so I’m afraid our 5 year wedding anniversary today may be a tiny bit shit, whilst I try really hard not to complain.
The sex is going to be really dull, I’m afraid.
Love you though.
The Wife x
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Dear Finances
You are actually making me cry. A lot. Please stop it.
Yours, truly skint, Jay
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Dear Readers
Whatevs. Go find Miss Kat and read stuff. Meh.
Living the dream. Or the TV advert, according to John Lewis.
November 15, 2011 By 9 Comments
I’m pretty sure most of you will have seen the new John Lewis Christmas tv ad, which aired this weekend. This is not a sponsored post. Geeeeeeze, stop with your bloody cynicism.
D and I saw this advert and well, we both blubbed a little. Now, it should be stressed that I do not cry at such things. Although, the last thing I cried at was when we finally got to the end of watching Prison Break recently, and we found out what happens to Burrows and Schofield. Damn. Those two guys are hawt.
Anyway, I don’t do crying at stuff, it’s just not me. Am I unemotional? Far from it. I have my moments. But I’m also aware of real life, and how most tv is utter bollocks. Including adverts. (Prison Break, however, is entirely real, so shut your mouth.) It took me a second to figure out why D and I were both pretending why we had something in our eyes, both of us being so down to Earth and all, and then D said it.
“That’s exactly what Noah would do.”
Jesus, the man done hit the nail on the proverbial head.
I was gobsmacked by the amount of cynicism with which the advert was met on twitter. I totally get those who weren’t moved by it (see previous paragraphs) but then there were tweets that actually made me quite sad. Including:
only cos it’s fairytale parenthood. Life ain’t perfect girlie, is it?
and also (upon saying I wanted to blog about it):
[...] I feel MURDEROUS when I watch it [...] can’t be doing with the schmaltzy stuff – how did he get to town, buy, sneak home, wrap, etc
So. Why so sad at something so seemingly staged (it’s a filmed advert, after all)? It’s obvious. If you live with Noah.
It’s the sort of thing he would do. It’s the sort of thing he’s already tried to do.
Last year, Noah wanted to make a cake for his dad’s birthday. Only, he realised that Daddy’s birthday was around the corner and he was going to have to exercise his resources. So he made one out of Stickle Bricks of his own accord, and presented it to his Daddy later on. “Surprise, Daddy! I made you a cake.”
When his Uncle and new Aunty got married back in September, he saw that they had been given presents on the day. On his arrival back at home, he asked me if he could make them something to give as a gift; he created one hell of a work of art (unknown to them, or anyone else but myself since he had to ask for the bits and pieces) and asked me to give it to the couple when I saw them next. When asked “why don’t you do it, Noah?” came the reply “because I’ll be at school, Mommy, and I can’t get to their house on my own. You will see them won’t you Mommy?”
In the car whilst rushing around from place to place sorting out life in general, we stopped and got both boys a McD’s Happy Meal each. Emptied the nuggets and fries into the box and passed one to Noah. He took one nugget and passed the box to Isaac; his assumption was to share the food with everyone. He looked mildly confused when we told him that box was just for him.
I hate to sound like that barfy dreamed-drugged parent whom every body hates, but the sort of stuff in that John Lewis advert does happen in our house. Fairytale parenthood? Maybe. Fairytale for some, not us. Schmaltzy? To some. Not to us. Actually, it’s quite normal for us in this house. Resourceful little boy? Yep. If Noah wants to do something, much like his stubborn mother, once he’s put his mind to it, he’ll do it. He’ll figure a way. It’s only because he hasn’t fully realised the extent to which he could go, I suspect, why he hasn’t yet gone all out.
D and I cried suddenly had itchy eyes because to us, the advert was real. We’ve seen it for real. I’m not going to sit here and judge in a holier than thou fashion, and say that other parents should have children who behave like this. On the contrary; there are kids who are gorgeous and thoughtful and stunningly delightful in just about every way I could think of, and more. But. I love this advert for making me realise how beautiful Noah’s actions actually are. Seeing it on tv like that, not necessarily enhanced, just condensed, gave D and I a very real snapshot of what we live with.
Cheesy? Possibly. Fairytale? Maybe.
All very real to us though.
