These 26 paragraphs of self-indulgence are brought to you by me, are all about me and are likely of no interest to anyone except me. Ah well, thanks to Andrea over at the double AWARD WINNING Office Mum, for giving me the blogging equivalent of a poke to write this post. Here’s The A to Z of Me.
A is Atheist. I’m a very happy non-believer. I felt a profound sense of relief when I realised I simply don’t believe in a god or an afterlife, and have never looked back or doubted myself since.
B is for Bribe. My main tool and top tip for surviving as a parent. Anyone who doesn’t resort to a good old bribe isn’t a better parent. They are a fool. I have a tiered bribe system that highest level of which is reserved for the real crack cocaine of childhood – Opal Fruits. I *may* have given the mini-toddler a chunk of one today to get him into his car seat. And if I did, it worked.
C is for Car. I used to love road trips. In fact I still do but not when the involve any of my children. With the close of a belt buckle my children become crying, whining, annoying assholes. On the firstborn I believed it could be some sort of residual birth trauma but nearly six years, and two doppelgänger later, I have diagnosed all three of them with CRA syndrome. That’s Car Related Asshole syndrome. There is no cure.
D is for Dad. With 8 grandkids so far, my Dad has really found himself as a Grandad. His madcap stories, adventures with tigers and real life bees have the kids transfixed. They adore him, and him them.
E is for Engineering, a degree I earned less through academic achievements and more by surviving a hedonistic four years of drinking, smoking and snogging, everything. It was great.
F is for Fourteen – the number of years I am with my current husband. Frankly, who’d have thought it.
G is for Golden Oldies. My kids dance to Kate Bush, Stevie Wonder, Bruce Springsteen and Fleetwood Mac. It’s a long-term strategy to teach them what good music is thereby ensuring I never have to live through a performance by 2025’s version of Rihanna.
H is for Hopeful, my general default view of the world, my tummy and people.
I is for Indian, my kids favourite lazy food / take away. Happily I’m partial to a korma and a poppadom or nine.
J is for Judgemental. I try not to be. I even pretend not to be. Honestly though, I am. Don’t judge me.
K is for Knitting. I love it. A perfect mix of the technical and the creative. I’m getting to do less of it than I like these days but I’ve just started a fab new project so I’m feeling inspired.
L is for Lamb. During my house share years when I was an angry vegetarian, I banned my best friend from cooking lamb in our house. Years later – and having reverted to being a carnivore, lamb is a favourite and the same ex-housemate complains I cook it too rare!
M is for Marino. I arrived there 14 years ago in a taxi fuzzily tipsy after a night of drinks with a cute fella. In February we left there, stone cold sober, in a seven seater packed with our three kids.
N is for Nerd. I am a nerd, my husband and most of our friends are nerds. I really, really hope our kids are nerds. Nerds rock.
O is for Organised, my natural default and how I keep things going. I unravel if I’m disorganised. It literally puts me in a spin.
P is for Pregnant, which I have loved getting, adored being, and will not be again.
Q is for Queen. Proof of their love for the Golden Oldie soundtrack of their youth the kids favourite shout-a-long song is Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. ‘Mama, just killed a man‘…. possibly a poor choice by this parent but still better that Rihanna.
R is for Running. I used to, I mean to, I must. At some point.
S is for Star Wars, the cultural phenomenon I think I am most looking forward to introducing my kids to when they’re old enough [see: nerd].
T is for Thirty-nine. The age I turn tomorrow. Happy birthday to me….
U is for Úna my fabulous school friend who has launched her brilliant Love your Lingo guide to teaching bilingual kids their alphabets.
V is for Vlog which you don’t be seeing around these parts any time soon. I’ll blame my technological ineptness but it’s more to do with my annoyingly sharp voice and the fact that I sound *slightly* like the hard-on-the-ear Mary Lou McDonald.
W is for Walking into work. My sanity, my head space and my one chance of actually achieving those buns-of-steel I otherwise do nothing to create [see: running]
X is for X-rated aka extremely unsexy. Give me Mr Darcy wading out of the lake any day!
Y is for Yes. Simply. Yes. It’s one little word and it means so much.
Z is for Zzzzz. Oh sleep, how I miss you.