For weeks leading up to my 40th, I composed my speech in the shower, and added to it here and there, writing things down as soon as I dried off. I rehearsed it over and over, convinced that I could be present when speech time came around, and would deliver it with feeling, eloquence and all the love I had for everyone who was at my party.

It didn’t exactly happen that way, and although I have no regrets, I do wonder if it would have even been possible to have been more present at the time. I was so overwhelmed with joy and love and gratitude and all the feelings, and I just couldn’t quite find the words to do those feelings justice.

I do hope that you all know how much you mean to me and how much fun I had on the day. Which brings me to the two photos. Some of you may not have realised, but I had a professional photographer there for a couple of hours over dinner/speeches, and the photos are incredible. The two photos I want to share with you, in my mind, capture the essence of my party, for me at least.

Here’s the first one:

These two wonderful people had never met before my party, but found themselves sharing a drink and a laugh together; this moment in time captured forever. I just love it so much. It means so much to me that my friends get to know each other and realise how awesome they all are. I know that friendships have been formed over the years at my parties, and I hope that at my 50th, or sometime before, these two people will be there again, drinking, laughing and having a grand old time.

And then this one

Captured during the most epic rendition of Happy Birthday I’ve ever heard, and surrounded by my four gorgeous kids, and many others. I was honestly overflowing with joy at this moment, and it was a hard act to follow.

There are so many things I want to say to you all collectively, and individually, but I will end this post with the end of the speech that never eventuated:

Two years ago, I was in a fog, and I just had to put one front in front of the other, hour by hour, day by day. Nearly everyone who is here today, was there for me then, helping me find my way. Some of you helped in incredibly huge ways, many of you will never know how you helped with a kind word, a timely hug, spending time with my kids or some words of support and encouragement.

Last year was all about survival. I added to my army of support, and I had to start finding ways to bring some normality to our lives. Day by day, week by week, I had to not just survive, but for my kids sake, and for my sanity, start finding joy again.

The future, surrounded by you all here today, and so many who are elsewhere, is looking pretty incredible and for that, I thank you.

I’ve had so many conversations with people so far this year about the promise that 2020 will surely bring. I am of the same opinion. 2020 is going to be a big one. Let’s do this 🙂

I don’t always get it right, hell none of us do. That’s not the point of parenting. The point is to do our best; to show up for our kids; to be there, I guess? Sometimes our “best” falls horribly short. Sometimes we yell and scream at the tiny humans we swore to protect; sometimes we hear the harsh, impatient, tired words coming out of our mouth, and know that if someone else spoke to our kids the same way, we would be horrified, and want to shield our child from that person in that moment.

Some of the hardest times of parenting can be the continued and repetitive, monotonous lessons we try and teach our kids, hoping one day they finally get it. Sometimes they surprise us. Some of the best parenting moments for me, is seeing them put the things that I have tried over and over to teach them, in action…. finally…..

I have seen Chance growing up so much lately. I know I am particularly hard on him and his behaviour, being the eldest child; I expect so much of him and from him, and I often forget that he is still just a kid. My big nine-year-old boy. I have seen him at the start of a storm, where a year ago he would have melted down and lost his cool. He still does that from time to time, but the meltdowns are few and far between now, and all he needs is some space, and a bit of time, and he will come and apologise and speak to me in a calm voice.

The other evening, at the start of such a storm, I saw him with tears in his eyes, take some deep breaths to calm himself, saying out loud “it’s okay”. This blew my mind and I had a big chat to him afterwards about how proud I was to see him do that.

Sometimes parenting is banging your head against a brick wall. Sometimes it’s lying next to your child on a soft pillow with a full heart. I wish all of my fellow parents out there in the trenches, a soft pillow/full heart experience in the lead up to end of school and Christmas. What a joy it is.

Eight kids, all happy, all looking in the same (ish) direction ❤️

Aged 8, nearly 4, 6, nearly 2, 4, 8, 3.5 months and nearly 6 🙂