Big Fat Shiz of the Year

Given that it’s been a remiss year in the writing stakes, and that all New Year Eves since 2010 have been less about a sweaty queue at a bar and more about lying around like melted cheese on the sofa, I thought I’d try and use that time more constructively.

Plus I did one of those Big Nine 2015 things, and I almost didn’t recognise the year it showed. Probably because a big part of this year has been parcelled up and put on the shelf for me. Coping mechanism or passport to a Michael Douglas Falling Down moment at some point, only time will tell. If I could build a house of shit or sugar, I always choose sweet for there’s always far more to be grateful for.


Original Best Nine. See what the focus was… And where’s RD?


My Best Nine. Likes Schmikes.

We moved back to God’s Own Country. Well, back for me, but unchartered for the other Ds. New home, new school, new nursery. New hospital. A house to strip and change, make our own. A perverse amount of time spent in DIY stores- no cable ties or rope bought FYI.

I did that there bit of running. That was nice.

We settled in, found our feet. Took a holiday. Started the summer surrounded by the comfort of family.

Wolf started his PhD. I am often asked what it’s about, but the thing is, it’s like when you’re watching University Challenge. You know, it’s not that you don’t know the answers (unless it’s popular music or artists I’m screwed), or even that the question confuses you, it’s that bit where you’re not even sure what the words in the question mean or what they’re doing in a sentence together. In the past I must have convinced Wolf I was several echelons more intelligent than I am. Or maybe used the word echelons casually. So let’s just say it’s about architecture and leave it there.

But I’m proud, he’s given so much of his life over to be the main carer for RD so I can work. He even had an Elsa sticker stuck to his bottom yesterday without complaint. He’s a good egg.

Then we had the month of birthdays. A 5 year old, a 3 year old and a 20 week old. We celebrated and recovered. Slowed time down and got the balance back. Each day lasted an age and yet in the blink of an eye it was a memory.

I wrote about RD this year. Without intention, DD was left out. But she fills every day with such moments of sheer joy all whilst being a bit of an arsehole. I could regale you with minute by minute depictions of this. I’ll leave you with a taste.

“No No No NOOOO!!! I do it MYSELF”. Wrestles with activity. “I can’t DO IT” [briefly heartbroken] “Mummy, need a cuddle. Mummy, can I feel your boobies?”

My skin inked, I found closure and returned to life as before.

Christmas whistled around the corner and here we are. I saw Christmas through the wide eyed wonder of a three year old. We fulfilled the dreams of a five year old who may have zero interest in Christmas itself, but a foot spa with a big switch made his year. If happiness was the goal, Father Christmas brought it.

So time to look ahead. A year that has been life changing but not life defining leaves us with hope ahead. There isn’t a reason for Tiny not continuing with us medically, it was just one of those things. And, trumpet blowing warning, we’re pretty good at dealing with those things.

18 months ago it was only probably a year until RD would need a change in management of his kidney degeneration. So, 6 months over and still, the process is in gradual change. We ignore the goalposts and just continue to watch the game.


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