Okay...so today is my 40th birthday (UGH!) and...where to begin?
So it all started with work, where there are helium balloons, and ever since I started there I wanted to buy Minions balloons for my birthday. And that is just what I did. A dozen Minion balloons just for me.
BUT I had never seen ANY of the films. I just thought the little Twinkie-looking critters were cute.
My eldest, Erin, got me a whole bunch of DVDs and I bet you can guess what (if you can't, I fear you).
We just watched Despicable Me and all I can say is as a film about my life it's not particularly accurate but...I LOVE IT!
I am Gru.
I acquired children, two girls not three unless I have miscounted, with somewhat misguided intentions. Not in the attempt of accomplishing the crime-of-the-century but in the attempt of keeping the man I was with. Not in the usual sense of entrapment (*glares at my mother meaningfully*) but because he claimed to want a family.
Yeah, right. That lasted all of about five minutes. He *ahem* off and I got screwed over, literally and figuratively. As a homeless 17 year old I didn't think I could cope and begged to put my poor elder beastie up for adoption. Fortunately no one listened.
Three years later, exact same scenario, exact same guy. Look. I never said I was smart. In fact, a high IQ has absolutely no correlation to common sense. I am / was / ever more shall be a complete dumbass. Got it?!
I went from struggling to get by to absolutely shitting it. At one point, when my kids were 4 and 1, I actually dragged them to Social Services and BEGGED them to take my kids cos I couldn't cope. They ignored me. I was living hand-to-mouth with virtually no adult contact and my kids were *ahem* not the easiest of little cherubs.
The point is, like Gru, I didn't think my [evil] plan through and ultimately I love my kids and am so glad I got to raise them. Being a single parent on welfare is SHIT. I got zero support. I had a health visitor who scared the bejeezus outta me talking about her psychiatrist. My parents...HMMMM...they felt that the best thing was to compel me to step up by means of their not helping me out. Not saying they were necessarily WRONG just that it was harsh and the fact the three of us are still alive to tell the tale is probably just sheer dumb luck.
That bit where Gru's girls are destroying EVERYTHING? Utterly relatable. If I'd had access to a freeze ray they'd still be defrosting! (*thinks about that time K poisoned the ketchup / curried her sister's shoes / painted herself blue / got drunk on sherry AGE 4 / salad-creamed her sister in bed etc*)
I wish I'd done better.
I wish I hadn't fucked up once...instead of the 57,73,888,947,465,635,434 times I actually did.
I wish I had possessed even ONE maternal instinct.
I wish it had only taken me the length of a kids' movie to accept the situation and step up.
I wish I'd got my kids all the fluffiest unicorns.
I wish I'd read all the bedtime stories. Even though Erni would've pitched seven fits and hurled all the books like an anti-literature poltergeist.
Why? Because now my kids are adults and I can't turn back time. Because now the hard times have passed it's hard even for me to understand why I was struggling so badly. Because I am so proud of the young women my daughters have become in spite of being burdened with a mum like me.
I am sorry, kids. I love you. I am proud of you.
You did me good. I only wish I had been good for you, too.