Terrible 2’s and out of place toast

After a really REALLY quiet day yesterday I was chuffed to the back teeth to wake up this morning and feel more alive… a bit like Jesus was a few years back I imagine.

I’m the first to hold my hands up and say that religion isn’t for me. There’s no mass debate for in my head; I just don’t get it and I’m not that arsed at this stage in life about trying to. What I DO applaud is that because of religion I am legitimately allowed, no ENCOURAGED, to eat chocolate for alllllllllllllllllllll day. I don’t care what kind of fact or fiction the bible is, I am absolutely in favour of there being chocolate everywhere one Sunday a year.

The sun was shining, Eli was being less of an utter fucker (marginally) than yesterday morning and I wanted to get out and get some air. I’d had it in my head yesterday that if I rested all day that I could try and get out today and I did – hooray for me! So off to Ravenscraig Park we went.

I never thought I’d ever have a favourite park to be honest, life used to hold such excitement but I’ve arrived at middle age all of a sudden so I embrace pig pants, flat shoes and a nice park. Eli can go wild because it’s enclosed and away from the road; there’s a play park, squirrels and its always rammed full of dog walkers which he LOVES. It’s perfect for a Sunday stroll – right by the water so you’ve got the sea air to knock laddo out and make your lungs sing…. perfect when you need to get him knackered before nap time, which is exactly what we needed today because WE HAD PLANS for this afternoon. Us! I know! Citing innit?

I managed an hour, which for me is epic, it was slow and I felt like I was dragging myself along, but I did it while Eli ran laps around us. Generally I’m a bit shit with nature and feeling blessed with the beauty of the world thing but I really do appreciate not being stuck in on my good days –  its a welcome change from having to sing Humpty fucking Dumpty for the billionth time while he chucks himself off the couch and I hold my breath in case he breaks a limb. So I embrace the wholesome nature of being out and enjoy the relative peace when I can.

As always with a two year old there were moments of sheer arseholery; notably a sit down protest complete with screaming at the top of his lungs because he wanted “to go that way” to the play park. I did not want to go to the play park. Predominately because he’s a clumsy little fucker and it always ends in tears, plus it was alllllllllllll the way back there. We waited for a good five minutes before I gave up trying to negotiate, walk away or bribe so Christiaan grabbed him and dragged him along in full view of the really odd church service that was being conducted in the middle of the park (because of reasons…. possibly theological) only for him to make a sneaky bolt for freedom when I was  distracted by a Bichon Frise with an epic perm.

I did notice that Eli was running a bit funny at that point but thought he was just getting that heavy head thing that happens when you fun too fast and your head gets carried away a lot faster than your feet but after the 90000034rd melt down at the play park (because he kept falling – shocker) we realised that we’d put his wellies on the wrong feet.

The Easter Service was still going –  everyone was watching this unfold; we had quite literally failed at parenting in the eyes of the God…..balls.

The good news is, Eli soon got over himself with a pack of animal digestives and carried on getting soaking and covered in mud. The one handed carved bear got a cuddle and he then hit the deck again because, well, fucked if I know to be fair. Anyway, we caged him in the buggy and decreed it was home time. The outside can go and fuck itself.

We’d already planned to get together as a family this afty so we tottered along to the hotel Christiaan and I got married in and had our high tea. High tea for those of you who aren’t Scottish is an odd affair, you get toast, then a main meal and then some cakes. I have no fucking idea why and I’d never really questioned it until Christiaan asked me what the toast was all about… I still can’t really answer him, if you know, can you tell me? I’m not motivated enough to Google it myself (like those eejits you see on Facebook asking what the number for the chippy is, or if the number 67 bus stops at Donkey Terrace… rips my knitting).

Eli was entirely sure he should continue to be an utter bell end, so high tea (toast and all) was a some what manic event but with a wee bit of help from his epic cousins and my Dad who did laps, in the cold, outside of the hotel – we got through it. Not without there being much hilarity in the “secret garden” after we ate. Controversially there was a sign that said “secret garden” so I’d argue the hidden nature of this wee bit of garden but I was happy enough to buy in when my niece told me there was a door you could knock on, and behind that door was a wee dwarf having a jobby (that’s a turd for you Englanders). Say no more my darlin, I’m in! You see, my family are all v similar with their sense of humour…. you canny beat a good jobby joke eh Dad! Much fun ensued trying to get the dwarf to answer the door, running in the grass and sitting on kissing chairs before we said enough was enough and went back to our cars to get back.

So we’re home. Eli is in bed and hopefully he’ll stop twatting around and fall asleep soon. I made it. I made it through what would be a relatively easy day for most. I walked, I ate, I spent time with my family and I laughed – and I loved every moment of it but now…. now is the time for painkillers and not talking. Christiaan is sat beside me and we’ll chat a little about things that have happened in the day but he knows a lot of conversation is past me now – I could always text him right enough, the bit of my brain that allows me to type and write seems to be OK most of the time but he never pays attention to his bastard phone. He’s got the most immobile, unloved mobile phone I know.

I’m sore, I’m absolutely knackered but I’m satisfied – these days are the good days where M.E. doesn’t stop me being the person I want to be. He’s alright that Jesus really.

Happy Zombie Jesus day everyone 

4 thoughts on “Terrible 2’s and out of place toast

  1. Ah you made me do a little tear with that one although don’t feel too flattered, as you know Simon Cowell has also made me do a little tear tonight.


  2. Awww chick – my lovely McSquaggleMuffin – this is an amazing blog – so deliciously frank and funny as you always ever have been. Hats off to you clever lady – should we ever be all the way up in your neck of the woods you must let us come and visit. Though I will be expecting your amazing chocolate truffles – diet and ME can get knotted! xx


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