Things kind of stopped this year. I know I’ve been absent – I haven’t felt very bloggy, or like putting pen to paper. Some days I haven’t felt much at all. Instead of the laptop, I’ve needed to pause and concentrate on real life, and not the one we all weirdly aspire to on t’interweb.
Facebook filters, Instagram, Twitter blah blah blah – the edited versions of life. Social media is a puzzle of cherry-picked pieces that are rarely a true representation of how things actually look. Lives aren’t permanently perfect, children aren’t always the obedient little darlings finally captured in photo #18, plans don’t always go according to plan, and smiles aren’t always real. Not everyone is as happy as they seem.
I’m proudest of the fact that my babies are oblivious to all of this. The innocence that comes with being 5 and 2 means that they only see the happy stuff, and we’ve had a lot of that these last 12 months. As I pack up 2018 in a box and shove it to the back of the cupboard, that happy stuff is something to be grateful for.
The happy stuff
2018 was the year the Boy started walking, started talking (turns out, another chatterbox…), and started at playgroup. Bear learnt to read, write and put the recycling out on a Tuesday (a job she loves way more than most 5 year olds probably do).
We holidayed in Cornwall and ventured to Land’s End, we did Easter and Christmas in Norfolk. Bear and I enjoyed a girly day-trip to London with friends to eat like princesses – seriously, tiaras and carriages aplenty – and popped in to see the Queen at Buckingham Palace (she didn’t answer the door – rude).
Bear took up gymnastics, the Boy started Discotots, and I signed up to yoga. So far, I haven’t fallen over or fallen asleep mid-class, so I’m clearly a natural. Oh – and my hobby for collecting gins has gone from strength to strength (a dedication I take wholeheartedly into 2019).
I have had THE best friends and family by my side. They’re all over the place – they’re just down the road, Norfolk, Sussex, Dorset, Devon (I could go on but I’ll basically be reeling off UK counties and that’s not interesting for anyone) – and yet they’re also right there. I’m a lucky girl, eh? That handful of the best people on the planet have cried with me, pulled me back up and continue to carry me. I’ll never be able to say enough thank yous, but thank you.
Out with the old
2018, you might have given me some lovely stuff to be grateful for but you’ve also been a bitch, I’ll be honest. So grab your coat and off you trot – I’ll be glad to see the back of you, which I will do with my family, in my pyjamas and with a large glass of something in hand. As for the next 12 months, I hope they slow down, contain no nasty surprises and plenty of caffeine. 2019 – I need you to play nicely, please.
2 thoughts on “2018: A dodgy vintage”
Such fab writing, my lovely – even if bitter sweet to type. New year, new beginnings and new, genuine smiles and laughter to be had xxx
Thank you chicken xx Like you say, bittersweet to write and bittersweet to leave the year behind. A year of so much (too much) change. One day at a time… xxx