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If you’re happy and you know it
As evidence taken from some of my previous posts would advocate – I’m an anxiety fuelled, woeful bemoaning mutha (with a penchant for a tipple or two).
On paper, it doesn’t sound all that Jubilant really does it?
I know I’ve said it before, nevertheless I think it’s always beneficial to recap – I set sail on my blog voyage as a cathartic way to liberate some head space. To get it all out there (lord help me, and perhaps you) indulge my ramblings, but possibly, more often than not – offload, and sometimes
So, although a number of my posts seem to depict that my journey through motherhood has been a glum, desolate and miserable one, it really hasn’t – I’ve had a bloody ball! It’s just that trying to be continuously cheerful, assured AND Jovial is – well, quite tiring – and more often than not, a lot of the time, for me – that just isn’t representative of life. Least not when you are trying to juggle it all – be that a full or part time job, 24/7 motherhood (which let’s bear in mind, none of us auditioned for, and so –
Doing any or indeed (which tends to be the case) ALL of the aforementioned whilst preserving a jaunty smile on your face every day? Well, it’s all a bit much really. Isn’t it?
I’m a whiner, and I’m generally always up for a suitable bellyache amongst friends and family, but it doesn’t mean I detest my life and that I’m not amazingly grateful for all that’s in it – I truly am. I am
Equally, it’s all relative isn’t it? I think we can all experience a little stained vision along the way – when the unremitting exhaustion hits its peak, the relentlessness of the ground hog days become so monotonous that you are near to packing an overnight bag and booking a week at the nearest holiday inn to sit in silence – OR, sometimes – it’s just the dickhead in
Amidst all the grumbling, it got me to thinking – what IS it
Let’s get it out there first and foremost – it’s ok, I know a lot of people will be thinking it…
Booze. It makes me happy! It really does! Poppin’ a bottle of Kirkland (thank you Jamie for your Costco bargains – less so for the giant soy and Worcester sauce) prosecco whilst swaying around the kitchen to Bruno Mars following a triumphant double bed time victory, is akin to winning the lottery (on some nights) So, yeah. Booze makes me happy.
Our girls – they are the reason I am penning this blog
My mates – bejesus what I would do without that collective – the old and dusty ones – who recognize the insecurities and cracks in my chat, nestled alongside the newbies – those who have indulged and invested in me, despite the novelty. The
My family – the enormity of it all (there’s a lot of us) – each in their own little wondrous (and weird) ways – the noise, the chaos, the cousins and inevitably the politics that saddle alongside them – they make me so happy.
London – living in this frenzied city most likely does fuck all for my anxiety, alas – I adore being a resident and trying, oh how
To conclude my ‘happy list’ – the champ who delivers a massive nugget of glee to my life – Jamie. He makes me astoundingly angry at times, ah fuck it – ALL of the time. Sometimes, I envisage shooting him square on in the face with massive shot gun, BUT for a mountain of reasons – he also makes me massively bloody happy.
Now THIS makes meThe finale to my gleeful gloat, is that when I’m ranting away furiously (to my keyboard) and I just need to just screech “THIS IS A BIT FUCKING SHIT PEOPLE” I’m going to give myself permission for that to be OK.
It doesn’t mean I’m ready to pack up, and head off travelling to Cambodia, in fact it might be as simple that I have neglected to indulge in a little ‘time out’ and a peaceful poo of late.
Basically, the tidal wave that is life is an enchanted and mystifying mix – it’s a toughy – however, we
I hope so, or I’m buggered.