So here we are kids. It’s 2024. Can you believe it? Nope - either can I.
Last night we packed ra’s nappy bag, picked up burgers, and went and sat at the skate park in St Kilda, one of our favourite things to do. You can watch the unbelievably skilled boys and girls skate around the curves while the sun sets in the background, over the beach.
We talked about why we hate New Years eve. For me, New Years eve reminds me of every bad boyfriend I have ever had. New Years eve reminds me of every time I took too many drugs, drank too much booze, and was sick for it. New Years eve reminds me of the desperate hope I held for something better, for the night to produce something special, or at the very least, not something bad.
Don’t get me wrong, I have had some banger New Years eves. But most were disappointing. But this one felt different.
For the first time since ra has been born (5 months exactly yesterday), I feel like I wouldn’t change a thing. For a long time there, (4 months and 30 days) I have felt some form of regret for having a baby. Not because I don’t love ra, but simply because the change has been so enormous, so all encompassing, that I haven’t been able to accept and process it. But by holding hands with my sweet friend time, my body and mind have opened to the changes, and last night I felt unbelievably grateful for this little soul who chose us; who came down from the astral plane to hammer some hard lessons into us.
I watched all the young kids at the beach walking to a party, all dressed in white, bags of booze in their hands, perfume smells leaving after tastes. I thought, probably like all middle aged people do of the youth, ‘these kids don’t know how to dress these days!’ then realised that I had dressed exactly the same at their age.
As we walked back through the quiet streets to the car, the silence engulfed us. I felt very happy. Happy to be a mother, happy to dress in better clothes then I used to, happy to be in this exact moment in my life. I kissed ra on the mouth, and told him I loved him.
I recently watched Derry Girls on Netflix and cried through it often. It’s about teenagers being teenagers, and the conflict in Northern Ireland in the mid 90’s. I thought about it last night as 2023 began to draw her curtains.
The world is always falling apart; we are always living in chaos and sadness, war and trauma. But even amongst this darkness, there is always a group of teenagers, celebrating being alive.
Until next week my loves xoxo