Happy New Year to you all! 2018. When the hell did that happen? Remember when you were a kid and your parents used to tell you to stop wishing time away? They were right. I’ve just turned 41. No going back now. 41!!!!!
My cousin gave me a 5 year diary for my Christmas where there are 5 years on each page, and you write a few lines about each day so you can see what you were doing the previous year. What a marvellous idea which got me thinking about the previous year and about making some new year’s resolutions. I found an old notebook with resolutions from 2014/2015 and not surprisingly, I hadn’t achieved half of them. So this year I thought I’d do it differently and make a list of things I’m NOT going to do.
I’m not going to lose weight – get fit – tone up – eat better – not drink so much. Fuck it. I am on the go all of the time. (I can feel my husband about to object so let’s say 99% of the time!!). I may put my feet up and watch some tv when the babies are napping but generally, I’m always doing something. Cleaning, cooking, tidying up, soft play, meeting friends and family or at my actual place of work. So when I do get a blessed ten minutes to drink a cup of coffee then I’m bloody well having a cake with it.
I’m not going to follow people on Instagram who make me feel fat and lazy. You know the ones I mean. The mum’s (or mom’s) who post pictures of themselves bench-pressing their twins before breakfast like they’re dumbbells, then sit down to a bowl of granola and acacia berries. You can all sod off. They call themselves inspirational. They’re not. They’ve had six kids and got a six pack so there’s no excuse for me not to be flashing my abs? I bet those aren’t even their kids. I live in the real world. I choose 30 minutes in bed in the morning over exercising strenuously. I choose weetabix and a walk with the babies. I choose cheese and wine. So thinspirational mum’s – consider yourself Unfollowed. I feel lighter already.
I’m not going to get so stressed about the little things. Now this I may struggle with. I know that last year I used to get stressed about going out with the babies, being late, that sort of thing. Then I broke it down to what’s the worst that can happen? You’re late. So what? Babies start screaming? Just go home. I hate a messy house, it’s true. But after us all being so ill for the past two months, I realised that it just doesn’t matter. If things don’t get done for a few days, it’s not the end of the world. If you’re tired, have a nap. Your mental and physical well being are far too important to ignore. I hadn’t thought about what it would be like to be ill looking after two ill babies. Oh my god. It’s just soul destroying. However, I took a little comfort in knowing that my other twin mums were all going through the same thing so at least we could message each other at 3 in the morning and moan at how tired we were.
I am going to be grateful for what I’ve got though. It’s too easy to start thinking about all the things I may not have achieved yet, or material things I wish I had (my hints at a new Kindle were obviously too subtle). We are living in a time where a Loneliness Minister has been appointed. I wish that wasn’t a real thing. It got me thinking about how happy my babies are and wouldn’t it be lovely if that happiness could be shared to all the isolated and lonely people out there? I feel a letter to my MP coming on. Anyway, I am grateful for my family, friends, colleagues and all those who read my blog and continue to share my journey. Happy new year to you all. I hope it brings you all of your desires.