Talking About Monkeys

Hi, you’re about to read the last post from a step parenting blog I was once lucky enough to write. This post was mostly about saying goodbye to the audience I’d gathered and in a way, to two little boys I learned to love very much. I hope you enjoy it.

It’s been months since I wrote a blog. My words have been working for someone else. They’ve been telling people to buy things and raising money for other things and bouncing endlessly between client and creative director until they end up as ads on radio or in someone’s trash. All of which is fine TOTALLY fine (seriously) I have no illusions or qualms about copywriting or about creativity for financial gain. But I realised today that all my words have been used up and I felt sad.

So I thought I’d write about something else. Just for the hell of it – for the practice and the fun of it – because I love to write and feel my fingers tap out the codes. It’s how I can tell you what’s going on, free of situational restraint and time pressure and social anxiety. It’s how I relax and stay sane and I had forgotten that.

You see things are changing. I feel scared. My life has been turned completely on end. The house is empty except for the cat and it’s a new house even. A cottage. There’s no lego strewn across the floor and no sticky yoghurt lids on the couch cushions. It’s a new couch to go with this new life I have.

Because in the end we didn’t make it, our step-family I mean. It got too much and I’m really sad at the loss. There’s a huge hole and it’s quiet and I’m not sure what I’ll do next. I’ve spent the last few years learning to love children that aren’t mine and now they’re really not mine. They’re bigger now too. Smart and edgy and cheeky but I still don’t think they know what’s happened. Kids understand more than we know but I really want to protect them from this.

So I want to finish this project with massive thanks. To every step mum that read my blog then got in touch and told me how hard it is. You made me feel like I wasn’t alone. And to the two small boys that bowled into my life. You changed it. You changed me and made things better in so many unexpected ways.

Charlie and Pete, I hope you read this one-day and realise how awesome you are. I hope you never think this is your fault because it’s not and I’ll see you for dinner on Friday night. I brought you some stuff from Indonesia, I gotta tell you about the monkeys. I love you.


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