I’m 32 going on 5. The world is far too serious and self absorbed for people to be worried about the rest of the world’s perception of them, and their feeling of their place in it.

I hate giving advice, but this is one of those emergency times (in the same way that I have emergency chocolate in a tin at home)… go and read “Peter Pan”. Just do it. I’m not going to tell you why :)

Yes but don’t forget you get to wear much more negligent underwear. Or even none at all. If you want to. When you want to.

I’m 35 and everytime someone tells me I am shocked and at the edge of despair. I still feel like a 23 year old or so, which was maybe the most formative and enjoyable year of my life. It helps that others are shocked when they find out my age too, I seem to act like a much younger person, look like one, dress like a youngster, I’m silly like a teenager, and generally seem stuck somewhere 10 -15 years ago. My previous, older, partner scared me in his very adult way and I had a strong feeling of incompatibility (howdoyouspellthat) and feel much better with a younger partner, not that he’s immature or anything.

It feels ok to be a younger than I really am person, but I also know I must be grown up now as I watched my mum die, as my dad now needs me more than I need him, as my own lover asked me to marry him, a thought I had, at the time, seriously never contemplated. I said yes, because I love him and do want to be with him, but when he teased me by calling me an “Ehefrau” last night, the German word for a married woman, I had an out of body experience, and I swear it wasn’t the red wine blending with my blood. I also feel very childish when I’m scared big time about becoming a mother, and keep putting it off for yet just another month.

At the end of the day, we’re probably neither adult nor children, just ourselves, that is complex individuals with ever changing emotions, fears and longings. We also live in a time where the borderline of life phases aren’t so defined anymore, where we can be friends with people from other generations, where some continue living a student life into their forties, while others have a family at 16. That’s a good thing, isn’t it? The best is to enjoy life and not think too much of tomorrow (if only) and make the best of the time that’s given to us. Oh dear, very philosophical. Sorry. And I’m shite at that anyway.
Cheers! (she says raising a mug a mug of tea for a change, hangovers need to be pampered too)

I know where your coming from about the grown up bit. As the only child of a single irish ma(my dad passed away when I was 3), I was made to feel like I was the centre of the world, wrapped up in cotton wool and whatever I wanted I had. I was always treated like I was a kid and never had to grow up and face THE REAL WORLD. 2 years ago something big happened. My cotton wool was no longer there and I finally got thrown into the real world. My ma (my safe place)was diagnosed with cancer. Of course, she had the operations, the chemo. I suddenly had to grow up over night. I became the mother to my own mother. Before ma got ill, I was an undomestic goddess, I didnt have a clue how to do anything because my ma always did everything for me (the spoilt only child). In September of last year, we were told that after all the doctors best efforts to cure ma, it didnt work. Her cancer has come back, this time more aggressive than the last, and determined to do its job properly. It is!! The little bugger is travelling around her body, looking where to go next. Like I said, I have grown up alot in the last 2 years. I became the nurse, the career, the sholder to cry on. I went from having no cares in the world, to having everything put on my shoulders. Sometimes, I must admit that I do feel I wish I was that little terror, wrapped in the cooton wool again, but then I look at my ma, trying her hardest to fight this disease with a big smile on her face, trying to survive another day, and I think ‘how lucky I am to be able to do this for her, to have time to really get to know eachother, how lucky I am to be able to spend this precious time with her because some people are so unlucky, they dont get to spend time with there loved ones as they are taken so suddenly.

Life is strange sometimes, you think the worse things are happening, then when you try to find the silver lining, you see that something good comes out the something bad.

I wish you the best in 06.
Keep up the good work, your blog is addictive ;-0

Oh Petite, if only…

We spent Christmas Day discussing whether or not to put “Do not resuscitate” on the hospital notes of my husband’s elderly aunt (we’re her only family), after she was admitted on the 23rd with kidney failure. We’ve had lots of that kind of stuff ever since we married – my husband’s lost both his parents (his Mum after years of dementia), my Mum has Alzheimers, the aunt had a stroke two years ago, and we’re bringing up three children… so I guess it’s coloured my thinking about what it means to be adult: all those responsibilities and decision making, for the generation above AND the generation below you. With no support from the generation above.

BUT (and it’s an enormous but) I totally agree with those who’ve written about the need to remain playful all through your life. That’s what stops us from losing the plot, sometimes. The psychologist Oliver James wrote about it in yesterday’s Observer, being playful as an essential part of good mental health. So although I’m 40 and despite my responsibilites, I grab any chance to go out dancing, play silly games like cocktail-fuelled Pictionary on New Year’s Eve, or sit around the table swapping fart jokes with my three boys. In my experience it’s only when you stop laughing that being truly adult can be almost too much to bear.

Gosh, written too much as usual. Thank you, Petite, for a thought-provoking post. A very, very happy new year to you all. xx

ps Did you get a Darth Tater? We’ve had a lot of fun with ours, and the matching Spud Trooper!