I’m sorry, I’m like that friend that never returns calls, or worse…that returns calls with a text, instead. I know I haven’t been in touch for like forevs’ but I been a busy lil’ bee, I have. Parts of this year seem to have flown by like a pair of granny’s underpants off the line, then other bits have been like waiting for the Divine Upstairs himself.
For nine months I have been working on a baby, unfortunately it probably wasn’t quite the baby we were hoping for but it is certainly one that will house our hopeful-one-day-peanut. As it stands I know every single tile, sink tap, carpet and benchtop sample ever made. I am also rather more intimate than I prefer to be with a whole host of plantlife, grasses and decorative rocks. Yep you guessed it, we (well mostly me because I’m a control freak n’ all that) have been building a house. Nine little months was all it took to incubate the most incredible digs you could ever lay your divine lil’ lashes upon.
It is the house of our dreams and I have put every ounce of my heart, soul and OCD perfectionism into it to make it one that makes my belly go all warm whenever I walk inside. It’s got lots of bedrooms and just as many bathrooms (which means my new year’s reso is to hire a cleaner) and lucky it has too because we had about four hundred and fifty three people staying for Christmas.
No really, we only had 17 for Christmas day and 13 people staying – yet we didn’t manage to fall on top of each other, or stab anyone with a kitchen skewer. Lucky. It had been a bloody tough old year twenny one four, not so kind to us in some ways yet a great year in others so I got on to the old fandamily and said ‘y’all need to get your asses over here for Christmas’. And they did. Almost every single one of them. It was the first year I can remember where my whole family was together and our blended tribes could mingle like Prince Andrew in a harem. It meant so much to me to have them here. And to the 11 y o who has managed to be more spoilt than North West at Disneyland. I hold genuine concern for when the last of them leaves and he is back to boring old Mama. His life will seem quite shitful, I expect.
We had friends come with their divine little bunch of hooligans and liven up our house with their delighted screams. We’ve had time with family who I haven’t seen for a couple of years because I haven’t been home. It has been a truly lovely holiday. Even Marley has grinned his lovely golden lashes at loving so many people pat him daily. Nothing like the holidays to make me realise I am truly blessed to have such incredible people around me, my friends, my family and of course the absolute cherries on my sundae, The Vet and the 11 y o.
This summer I’ve worked very hard on a seamless no strap-marks tan, laying the final interior design touches on our home and finishing up opening a new business…oh and bumping into Chris Hemsworth in Byron Bay (see pic below) we be like old friends now.
Already we are part way through the first month and I’m no closer to deciding when it is we go for our ‘last go’. It’s looming. If I’m honest it’s actually becoming a big fat pain in my arse, nagging in my ear like an old fish wife. One of my new month’s resolutions is to stop looking at my many six gazillion fertility apps to see where I am in my cycle and if it’s ‘time’. Nope, now I’m going all Thelma & Louise on this goddamn baby making shit.
To everyone who has made my year go by easier than it could have…who put the wheels back on when they so frequently fall off…who put the pop back in my candy, you know who you are and even tho I don’t need to…thank the hell out of yah, you are gems, every single one of you.
Twenny one five…come what may, biatch! (but just make sure there’s a small sized person please). Happy Nu Ye-ah to you and your own fandamily. Lov n’ hugs, Lady MamaG xox