Before you were born

Dear beautiful babies of mine,
Before you were born...

I was a good kid. I didn't rebel until I was about 24.

I had pink hair (probably the beginning of this rebellion of mine).

Lived in the Faroe Islands for a year. It was by far the best and the worst experience of my entire life.

I lived in a crazy hostel where boys used to run up and down the hallways high on drugs and slide down the roof on a big inflatable blue couch.

Fell in love, five times.
First to a boy who hurt me in more ways than I hope you will ever know. Second time was with your dad even though it would be 13 years until we got together properly. The third time i gave my heart away to a wonderful boy in the Faroes who I still think of with a smile. The fourth time with a boy who was wrong for me in so many ways and the fifth time to a man I would later marry in my back yard.

Which brings me to another thing...I was married to a man who wasn't your father (actually at the time of this post, I still am married to a man who is not your father). The day I got married I was hungover but very happy. I had bare feet and little blue dried flowers in my hair. I wore rainbow socks to the reception.

Got drunk with your Aunt Zoe in Dunedin and sang the Brittany Spears version of 'I Love Rock n Roll' at the top of our lungs as we walked home on a frosty Dunedin night. A couple of mornings later, at 5am, I ran up the same street in my socks and PJs to where your dad was living and tried my best not to tell him I loved him as I said goodbye.

I spent nights playing Rockband and drinking [probably too much] rum and coke in a foreign country with your Uncle Scratch and Aunty Jade (none of which, by the way, are their real names).

Had a collection of corsets.

I spent 10 years of my life living through clinical depression and only got pulled out of it by decent medication and the husband-who-is-not-your-dad. I hope you never feel this way.

Danced in the rain on the streets of New Orleans.

Made more major mistakes than I can count on my fingers and toes together.

Lost someone who left a hole in my heart so large that sometimes when I'm alone I can't help but smile and cry and beg to gods I don't even believe in.

Had dreams of being a photographer.

Got tattooed and loved every painful second of it.

Spent some of the best nights of my life simply just cuddled up with your dad watching How I Met Your Mother, The Big Bang Theory and falling asleep to the theme song of Flight of the Conchords.



In 15-20 years time, when you look at me... your tired-looking-crusty-old-fashioned-out-of-date mother, I hope I still remember that once upon a time I had pink hair and danced in the streets.