When I was 9, my Great Auntie Bee, introduced me to some lovely old folks from the nursing home where she was living in Ireland. I was on my summer holiday jaunts, and had been having a great time playing football with my curly haired Gran, and annoying my mum with my shiny new penny whistle. I remember always being particularly inspired when she was driving, map reading and probably cursing the bejesus out of her decision to take a 9 year old and a 71 year old on the Irish equivalent of Route 66.
My lovely Auntie Bee introduced me to her pals; Biddy, Elsie, Jimmy and Bridie in the TV room which was so beige, I thought I’d drowned in a cup of tea. Bridie was entirely my favourite – I literally couldn’t understand a word she said for her false teeth bungeed in and out of her mouth with every third word. These guys were having a swell day playing ‘Scabby Queen’ with matchstick currency, pondering the dinner menu and answering questions they hadn’t even been asked. It was at that moment I realised, being old is actually pretty cool.
Granted, peeing your pants and having your bum wiped by a handsome young charlie doesn’t fill me with excitement about ageing. BUT, hanging out with your friends, in one big house, where you get fed, delivered copious amounts of milky tea, fresh bedsheets whenever you want, and board games never more than a meter away is something that should be anticipated with a bit of excitement, surely.
I spend most of my weekends hanging out with my eight year old and her friends. Let’s be honest, it’s not that different.
My life fell together once I had Blue. I was pretty young and going it alone, but I’m certain that I was made for motherhood. I suppose some people would suggest my ‘technique’ be a little offbeat, but it works for us. I do have ‘blips’ where I think I should reign it in and try a ‘GAP’ ad approach. But I can’t help moving at 100 miles an hour. It’s not in our nature to be placid (Blue’s energy chart is a carbon copy of mine). However, I do worry…
I’m one year off graduating from my Masters degree. I have ideas pouring out of my eyeballs for magazines. I want to take Blue and show her all the amazing things in the world, and for us to find and live amongst brilliantly entertaining and creative people. That’s exactly what I want. I’m just not sure my balls are big enough to take it ALL on alone this time.
Ideally by the time I’m back in nappies, I’d like to be able to look at my visitors through my inch-thick spectacles and know in my little beating heart that I lived a good life. That I done things that are so unbelievably amazing, that I’d pointed my peepers at all the pretty things the world had to offer. That I done something, at least one small thing that will benefit other people, for even just a wee while.
My balls may be of underwhelming stature, but hopefully, within the next year, I’ll realise just how fierce those little puppies really are.
P.S. I don’t actually have balls y’know…