Happy Anniversary to my man, 7 years married today, you rock my world baby, and I am so lucky I bagged you!
So here is my true-love real-life love story, as promised…I have been looking forward to writing this blog since I began blogging. As, when I originally started blogging, it was my intention to keep it as a (almost) daily blog, a bit of a diary for the kids when they turn around and ask me in years to come what I did all day as a ‘stay at home mummy’. They will read it and see! So one of my blog entries had to be my very own love story! And here it is:
Once upon a time, back in England, when Smurphs could ski, and the grass was purple, and the trees were clean, I met a guy called Alex. I was working in London, straight from graduating in Newcastle, and had no clue what I wanted to do yet with my life! I did some PR work, promotions, tap dancing, OK I made the tap dancing up, but I would have liked to. I met Alex at a party, he had a girl friend at the time, so he was off limits. He struck a chord in my heart, but I thought nothing of it.
|At our friends' wedding last summer. I could not find a wedding pic! will get onto that. TO DO list!|
“Hi Tamsyn, I don’t know if you remember me, it’s Alex, I used to go out with Emily*”
Number 1) yes, I did OF COURSE remember him. Number 2) sly dog for immediately getting in there that he had split up with his girlfriend. He invites me for a drink. I was living about 2 and half hours away from him at the time, so going out for a ‘drink’ was going to be a bit of an adventure. But I said ‘yes’ anyway, why not? His eyes, as I remembered them, and all my kids have them, are blue, and clear (apart from the beer glaze) with huge great eyelashes like an ostriches! Not the most flattering description, but an accurate one nonetheless. I proceed to fly about getting ready for my ‘drink’ with Alex. Then commence the 2 and half hour journey to go out for the drink. We got drunker and drunker, only we went for drinks with a few of Alex’s friends too, and he was chatting me up so much, he stopped drinking the drinks being bought for him and he got behind (never known Alex as much of a talker…;) ). The ‘boys’ were not up for this and made Alex down every last one. That night, in fact I should explain, at that time, Alex was living in his Nan’s house, on a camp bed in the dining room! He’d just got back from travelling. So that night, obviously not drinking and driving, I stay at his Nan’s place with him. I never went home again. On the fourth day he proposed to me, and on the first night I knew he was the ‘one’. Two weeks later, we have a place of our own, renting near London, one year later to move to Whitby, by the seaside to ‘chase the waves, baby’, and where we had our son. Anyway, I digress, Alex also knew I was the ‘one’, but for different reasons. That night after downing the billion drinks he had missed out on from over-talky syndrome, Alex was sick EVERYWHERE. All down the stairs, the bathroom, up the walls. His mum and dad were looking after Nan at the time, and were living there too, his mum greets Alex the next morning with ‘morning love, I’ve just finished cleaning your puke off the walls, good night?’ and I still thought he was the ‘one’. He new he’d struck gold!
Within 18 months from our first date, we had Montgomery Buster, 5 months later we were married in the Whitby Registry Office, with just Alex’s best friend to film it, and both sets of parents and Monty. We had been planning a bigger do, but in the end decided we’d rather be married than not, and did it ‘shotgun’ styley! It took nothing away from our marriage, it only served in making more intimate, and it truly was one of the most (I say one of, as each birth of one of the kids has been the same overwhelming experience that you can never hope to ever put in words, and certainly never fathom, until you are there) significant and overwhelming days of my life. Nineteen months after Monty, we have Lola Grace. 15 months later, we have number three, Mitzi Joy (named Joy after my Granny). Then when she is 5 weeks old we have a conversation. If we do not move to France now, make a break for it, then likelihood was, we never would. When Mitzi is 7 weeks old, Lola 14 ½ months, and Monty just turned 3, we do it. We move to France with 2 suitcases, a few odds and sods, terry nappies and baby wipes, and Mitzi’s cot, we arrive in France. Esmie Rose was born when Mitzi was 23 months, to the day. And we now have 4 killer chickens, a gay dog, 3 stray cats, 4 kids, and a veg patch (growing cherry tomatoes, all colour peppers, strawberries, potatoes and leeks, so far, more to seeds sow…vegetable ones, number 5 is no where on the immediate scenes (yet ;)) although I had better stop mentioning the fifth or there may be no more wedding anniversary stories to write about.
|Two and a half years ago, the fourth and the final (?!) was born...|
So that’s about it! You are all up to date and have just read my real –life true-love story from the beginning, and a very, very, very long time from the end.
Please feel free to leave me a comment, I LOVE hearing from you all. Thank you!
See you next time, am joining in on ‘Silent Sunday’ tomorrow, and putting up a photo, so hopefully see you all again here soon!