And so after the walk upstairs...

And so, after the walk upstairs. I know my childen are asleep, I know my guests have gone home, I know that I am drunk and the resolve of "if the children were here" blah, blah, blah!

My eldest daughter was 3, THREEEEEEEEE! Today. HOOORAY!

I can't believe it, it goes on for so long that one needs to acknowledge the three year oldism of their child, their one and only, the first born!! I've not been here before, but here I am and we're done.

I have drunk, spoken, played, opened, unwrapped, loved, mopped, chatted, been, done, secured and so many other things, that I think I can sleep easy. And yet here I am, writing as if life depended upon it. Kiera Knightley (however you spell it) should be here with her tiny back and her little dress, talking about  what makes a scene. I should be in bed dreaming about something that will never be. But here I am. Here I am because I love this, I love writing this because I hope that someone, somewhere might love it too, and so I do!

How selfless am I?

I shall walk upstairs, and I shall get to my bedroom, and something I shall find. But, of all the things that I know for sure. I'll still be a mother of two. I'll still have a THREE year old, can't believe it, an eighteen month old, and a will to live and HAVE FUN!

Then... then I'll do something else, in the hope that my THREE year old and, on the 26th, my 18 month old, will remember that I am their mother and human, and that all that we can give is what we strive for and better than what we know, that which we recognise!