The Resolution

The Resolution

It’s new years eve, i’ve just re-surfaced from under my duvet at 2.30 in the afternoon having left three empty packets of Cadbury snowballs behind me. * Another Aldi special buy.

‘What a strange activity for one to partake in on a New Years eve’ some may wonder. Come this way, allow me to enlighten you;

We went on a walk

That’s not even the shit part.

We went on a walk, I wanted to get out in the frost as a family, take some cute pics do that whole ” We be walking outta 2020 like …..” Nemo, NFD and I were all going to hold hands walking through the woods when out of nowhere a tripod and iphone was going to spring out and document the moment in all its naturalness.

Have you ever tried to reason with a three year old?


Have you ever tried to reason with a three year old suffering with early attachment trauma which has consequently resulted in anxiety and the overpowering need to assert control?

Not quite so many hands going up now is there.

Nemo didn’t want to walk, he wanted to be carried, when he was carried he wanted to sit down, when he sat he wanted the seat all to himself, Mummy and Daddy had to stand, they also weren’t allowed to talk or look at him. * That’s the shame factor kicking in right there, just typical of an adopted child. How dare he feel embarrassed about displaying such complex behaviours and having absolutely no understanding of what they even mean.

He wanted to paddle in his wellies, yes its December, yea I know it’s a stupid idea given the Arctic temperatures *Not Arctic enough actually, a snow day could have fixed this! We could have thrown snowballs at each-other, to the outside world we would have have passed off as that chocolate box family with our devilishly good looks and matching Hunter Wellies. When really me and NFD would have been trying to knock one another out. * That’s a joke . . .just incase any of our old social workers are having a gander.

Back to the Wellies; You’ve guessed it, his feet got wet! He didn’t want to wear his socks or wellies any longer. I offer him my boot liners, he kicks them off. He didn’t want ANYTHING on his feet, including my hands. Now THIS is the cryptic part; He also didn’t want his feet to be cold. . . . *£50,0000 to the first person who’s able to point out what practical resolution I missed here?

Why am I telling you this?

Well for a start it’s NYE have you ever tried trying to get hold of someone on NYE? Phone lines are rammed, there’s a very good chance of a crossed line resulting in an accidental order of a new crockery set from Japan. I’ve had no option then to dust off the old keys and let it all out. It’s also free, we all know free therapy has the highest success rates *Absolutely NOT true.

Actually sorry, I’ve just decided i’m telling myself this;

My new years resolution?

To keep flying the flag for my family, for my Son and his needs, with no comparison to how others might be flying theirs.

There’s far too much pressure this time of year to capture that perfect photo in the perfect moment along with some sodding magnificent caption.

Picture this; A Mum who’s just finished eating three bags of snot covered chocolate balls sat next to a Dad who’ s recently discovered his first grey hair. The head of hair itself is now also on the move. In between them both sits a beautiful little boy clutching onto his feelings cards trying to make sense of it all.

That’s the picture.

The caption?

“Perfection has never existed. Only Love” NFM

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