One day I shall get this blog made into a book for you to read once you're an adult. It will be for you use a guide on how not to parent your own children, if you are stupid enough to have them. It will also be available for you to read to understand how hard motherhood is and how much of a nightmare you were.
But this is where we're at right now: I'm going back to work. Not full time and for nobody other than myself, I'm going to be freelancin' it up. That way we can still hang out and scream at each other.
You're a handful at the moment and that's partly why I'm going back to work. We drive each other insane and I'm pretty sure that will never end. I need to regain some sanity and make some money because watching you strut in your lovely clothes while mine fall apart just ain't cutting it for me anymore. I need to feel... freedom and as though I'm of some use in this world (other than cook, cleaner, slave, nag, ironer etc). I need to feel money in my pocket. Because money does make the world go round and it'll put pretty clothes on my back too. Please don't be shallow like your mama.
I've quit my degree. I advise you not to follow in my footsteps. Go to uni at 18 if you want to and stick at it. I didn't because I wasn't enjoying it. It'll be different for you because those years will be the best. Boozy and fun. But don't you be getting too drunk.
Please don't ever think that I will ever stop loving you, not for one second. Because even after the most horrendous shit fits, I always love you harder. And don't think I don't enjoy hanging out with you... you make me laugh like no other. I just need to be around grown ups too. I'll obviously still talk about you loads when I'm not with you. Because even though sometimes I don't want it to, the conversation always steers back to you.
Stay feisty you little monster.
This is all for you.