So I’ve done it. I’ve started a blog. I’ve wanted to do it for a long time but finally have Lucazade to thank for it actually happening. I’d like to say I hit 30 and had a moment of clarity and thought I shall follow my dreams. Nope. I’d like to say I was telling a funny parenting story and someone said “You are hilarious you should write a blog”- nope again….. in fact I was off my tits on Lucazade and couldn’t sleep so decided to do it. More on that later.
And I’m shitting myself- no, actually I’m not- I have two kids and dog who do enough of that we don’t need me joining in. But I am nervous.
So here’s how Lucazade lead me to write this. Eden (my eldest boy – just turned 2) started nursery and in week 2 or 3, who knows it’s a blur (?), he bought home a delightful pink and blue painting and the most horrendous bug. The painting went on the fridge and the bug infiltrated all of us. From here on I will name the bug Blanche. Storms get given names so it’s only fitting that Blanche who has ripped through our house has a name too. Blanche had perfect timing and rumbled in when Daddy was away on a stag do. One parent down, two sick kids, I was outnumbered and poorly myself. Step in Grandparents to the rescue. I kindly stayed at Mum and Dads and let them meet Blanche too. Shout out to Grandad who is probably in bed with Blanche right now.
Anyway long story short and all that- day 3/4 of Blanche staying with us and with Daddy home but him also struck down too (or terrible two-day hangover, no one can be certain) I was exhausted. I’ve thought I’ve been exhausted before- like at 23 when I used to do a daily 4 hour commute and a 9 hour shift in Louboutins- that in hindsight was not exhaustion merely a tiny bit tired. For someone who doesn’t drink coffee or energy drinks they work epically when I do drink them. Please note Blanche had taken my appetite and I hadn’t eaten a thing for 48hours. Night 3- up every half hour or so with son number 1 or 2 and I was OK because of the Lucazade. I survived. I also noted here that when I was pregnant I thought I would run like a Tiger to her cubs when my kids were ill. Nope. This is how it goes…. Son number 1 or 2 cries out, usually after a coughing session that has woken them, I lay there waiting to see if husband is going. He’s not. And to be fair he went half an hour ago to the other one. So I mutter fucks sake and go. Again. The Lucazade helps me pull my head off the pillow and have a smile on by the time I reach their little worried faces. I digress….
So the next night- last night- I loaded up on Lucazade ready for the demands of my small people. But those demands didn’t come so frequently. There I was hyped and ready for action, with no one needing me. Both boys slept for blocks of four hours or more just when I was starting to think that would never happen again and I couldn’t remember what my healthy family life was like. I couldn’t sleep. Wired, buzzing, I wrote this blog. Or I wrote random words down and Lucazade about fifty times. Life has a funny way of giving you exactly what you need and this was my push to do something I have wanted to do for years.
I am doing this because I want to remember, rejoice, regret, re-live all the little moments of being a parent. It’s the shittest, hardest, bestest, most rewarding yet unrewarding thing. I want to remember the days good, bad, barely surviving without Peppa and the jumperoo- I want to remember it all. That saying -“the days are long and the years short”-is all too real. I want my boys to read this when they won’t giggle at the swear words (do as I say not as I do) and know mummy and daddy tried their absolute hardest. And like parenting I’m new to blogging, learning as I go, so stick with me.
So ooop here it is…