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Birthday, kittens and an anniversary: what a couple of weeks

Wow hello blog! It’s been a while hasn’t it? I think I’m suffering from bloggers block, or blogathy (blog apathy see what I did there?) or possibly just the same old ‘there aren’t enough hours in the day’ problem. But that problem’s not really a valid excuse since I don’t think in the four and a half years that I’ve been writing it I’ve ever really been afforded the luxury of time. No I think I just didn’t know what to write. Blog anxiety, loss of purpose, Goop for God’s sake, but this feels good, so I think I’ll continue.

What a few weeks it’s been. We’ve had Tilly’s birthday, her birthday party (don’t they string it out these days? In my day it was a few friends, a cake and some jelly, now it’s a village hall, an entertainer, loads of presents and competitive party bags), we’ve had our wedding anniversary. 8 years. Blimey, good heavens and all manner of other cries of amazement. 8 bloody years! Where did the time go? I sound like one of the many irritating characters off ‘Me Too!’ saying that, but 8 years is rather more time to have lost than the 20 minutes in that programme (if you haven’t had the pleasure of sitting through Granny Murray, who incidentally looks about 35 and far from Granniness unless she had a teenage pregnancy and her daughter had a child at 12, and the circle of strange caricatures of ‘normal people’ she childminds for then you really haven’t lived).

Tilly & Grandpa

Tilly & Grandpa

So it’s been busy. Tilly had a lovely birthday. Both her official birthday and her public birthday. My daughter is much like the Queen in that respect. That’s what comes of having a birthday that falls in half term. The party has to be a week later, I learnt that to my cost last year, when she had a very small turn out and I felt like a terrible mother.

She is 5. Cue more cries of amazement. I remember like it was yesterday being in a birthing pool in the terribly right on birthing centre (no drugs, no hope of getting any drugs as we weren’t in the hospital after the previous hideous experience that put me off hospitals for life) and deciding that actually I’d had enough of candles and Neil Young and Phil telling me to breath and that actually all I wanted was a bloody epidural and to be done with it, when out she popped. The midwives were so sure I had ages to go they’d left the room. Pretty amazing I can tell you. 9 days late, then out she came in 3 hours from start to finish. Wow she was a gorgeous baby. Placid and edible. Utterly delightful. Calmness in a small package. Except when she cried. That was loud. But my beautiful little Tilly Mouse/Minnie/Miniature and several other names was simply wonderful and still is.

We had a chat this morning about Jesus. I think we were doing the ‘I love you more than the whole world’ conversation, which took a surprising turn…

Me: “I love you more than the whole world.” Grabbing her for a big hug, she did look particularly edible this morning with her cloud of fluffy hair and earnest expression.

Her: “I love you more than a million, zillion worlds.”

Me: “I love you more than a million, zillion worlds with a cherry on top.”

Her: “I love you more than Jesus loves you.”

Me (goodness, that’s a church school for you): “That’s interesting Tilly, he loves me does he?”

Her: “Yes Mummy. But he’s not a boy, Jesus is a girl.”

Me: (boom! My 5 year old feminist daughter): “Well I think she probably loves you very much too, but I don’t think there’s anyone in the whole world, except Daddy who loves you as much as I do. Now let’s do this jigsaw.” I felt perhaps that conversation could have run and run, and I felt ill equipped for the discussion about Jesus’s gender or indeed his/her love for humanity.

Me & Tilly

Me & Tilly

So she’s happy.

Eliza is happy too.

They both have kittens.

Fidget & Rosie

Fidget & Rosie

Oh yes did I forget the kittens? Fidget and Rosie. They are utterly adorable. They are super super cute and I am completely in love with them. Fidget is placid and lets us cuddle her and pick her up, she is Eliza’s cat and Eliza is smitten. Rosie is a bit more shy and doesn’t like being handled quite so much, but Tilly doesn’t seem to mind, and just enjoys playing with them.

It occurred to me that the kind of endlessly repetitive things that kittens like to do – chase a piece of string for hours, follow an object with their eyes and then pounce, are the sort of things that young children like to do too. Repetitive, with no particular goal. Just fun. They are perfectly suited. In fact the kittens, who are sisters, and very similar to my girls. They love each other and often can be found asleep all tied up in a tangle of paws and tails, and the next minute they’re fighting and chasing each other. If it wasn’t for the size, fur and the fact they are cats and my girls and humans it would be hard to tell them apart.

So there you go. If you’ve made it this far I salute you. Another rambling record for my girls to read one day.


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