I’ll be honest, I haven’t got a fucking clue what to write about. But, it’s been a month – a month! – since I last blogged, so I’ve got to write something, even if it’s just a light-hearted ode to Twix bars. Ah, I don’t know. The thing is, I’ve always written on the assumption that no one will ever read my ramblings. That has, of course, gotten me into trouble, like the time I wrote about Ben’s misfit mates, and got called into his school principal’s office. It was my own fucking fault – I named the school, and identified the kids (I know, I know), and even though the stories were FUCKING funny (the Irish kid who came for a playdate with an empty rucksack and left with a full one, and the Filipino boy whose dad would consistently forget to pick him up after playdates, and then appear, post watershed, with Dominoes pizza and a cheery grin), the school failed to find the humour in my anecdotes, and told me right off. And of course, I failed to learn my lesson, and went on to mention an old, embittered friend in a blog (her FULL NAME, for fuck’s sake), thinking that she would never in a million years read what I’d written and – of course – she did, and a thousand apologies and a hasty deletion couldn’t make me feel any less dreadful about what I’d done.
It all comes back to the fact that no one was ever meant to read this shit. I started my blog after a particularly disastrous Wednesday, in which – I believe – I’d forgotten Ben’s free-dress day, Frankie had flung a cupcake in a charming café, and Alice had stripped naked and pissed in a sandpit, and – in an attempt to deal with my failed attempts at mothering – I wrote my thoughts down, dear-diary style. It was the BEST therapy. You have no idea. I wholeheartedly believe that I’d be rocking in a corner, wearing a potato sack as a nightie and a flower crown as a headpiece, if I hadn’t dealt with my issues via the medium of blogging. That, my friends, is what The Notorious M.U.M is: therapy. I work through shit by writing it down.
Here’s the honest truth: I nearly drew a line under the whole thing a few weeks ago. Cos, like, what the FUCK am I doing, writing down the silly thoughts in my silly head? It’s all a bit nonsensical. I’m investing my heart and soul into something that keeps me away from my kids (um, actually …), makes me no money, and leaves me open to people calling me names (although I STILL say lesbian earth mother is a compliment rather than an insult). You know? What the FUCK? And so, I shut the whole thing down. For half an hour. A whole 30 minutes! And then – in those 30 minutes – I thought about everything this silly blog has given me, apart from the grey hairs and nervous tic.
Primarily, of course, my blog has provided me with friends. Real, legitimate and excellent friends – 90% of whom live in parts of the world inaccessible by motor car or scooter, but all of whom feature highly on my “people I don’t hate” list. One of these bitches is actually coming to visit me next week. My parents are SPECTACULARLY freaked out by this. “But what if she doesn’t look anything like her profile picture!” “What if she’s ENORMOUS?” I was, like, “Guys? I’m not marrying this chick, we’re just gonna hang out for a few days.” Despite my explanations that it’s not an arranged marriage we’re planning, they’re still struggling to comprehend the fact that I’m inviting into my lovely home someone who drunk messaged me a year ago, telling me they fuckckcing loved my wordsszzzz and cood we be friendz?
I really can’t overstate the quality of excellent friends I’ve acquired through blogging. Last week, I hung out for the best part of a day at a friend’s shop in the hills, with another friend who I found through Instagram, I think. I can’t remember. I just know that these are likeminded humans who love Spaced, swearing and well-brewed cups of tea, and who I wouldn’t have met without my blog. Well done my blog!
Truth is, I was struggling a bit pre-TNM. I’ve always struggled making mum friends – this is well documented – after my nearest and dearest conveniently fucked off and made lives for themselves in the furthest corners of the globe (read into that what you will). I had a handful of lovely friends, but only a handful. Since the inception of The Notorious M.U.M just under two years ago, that number has quadrupled. Na, more than that. Quintupled – is that a word? Sextupled? Well that just sounds rude. But yeah, I’ve got shit-loads now. Excellent, likeminded humans – TNM followers and fellow bloggers – who I fucking adore, if that’s not overstating the fact. The best part is, these friends have made friends with each other and have formed allegiances and support networks independent of my blog. True story!
And so: I will continue to blog. I dunno what I’m gonna blog about, but if there’s a chance it’ll provide me with a few more friends, and those friends with more friends, then it’s worth the effort, yeah?