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You could say my 27th year of life wasn’t the easiest. There was the going slightly mad bit, then the separation bit. The Olympics were a highlight and I don’t even like sports: that says it all.
So I was looking forward to my 28th birthday, looking forward to seeing the back of 27. But weirdly enough it was the hardest birthday I’ve ever experienced. I don’t know if it was moving from my mid twenties into my late twenties, the situation that I’m in… it just felt a bit bleak.
In my married days a birthday was always a bit special. I’d wake up to a pile-on of children in bed, let them help open my presents and then see them carted downstairs so I could enjoy a cup of tea in bed followed by a birthday snooze.
This year Elfie got me up at 6, didn’t make me a cup of tea and I had to request that she wish me happy birthday. Hux greeted me with a big poo and a big smile. Presents were replaced with a morning Peppa Pig session, though I did make the kids snuggle in bed with me for 10 minutes before getting up.
A completely unrelated photograph of Elfie on her new friend who she has named ‘Twinkle Toes’
It felt weird. Where was my birthday fanfare and piles of pressies? Most importantly, where was my lie-in?!
My mum saved the day by taking me out to lunch (Hux fell asleep in his, as per usual) and Elfie bought me a Mr Tumble card. Good to see the most annoying man in the world makes an appearance on the most important day of my year :) Unfortunately Elfie insisted on wearing the badge.
The nice men in the John Lewis cafe gave me a free cake – not that I was shrieking about it being my birthday, you understand – and I had a brilliant time that evening at a Tapas and Sangria night in Woburn with the brilliant Bryony. Nothing like a good friend and a big jug of Spanish booze to make you forget your birthday woes.
On Saturday my favourite local pub, The Cowper’s Oak, were hosting a beer and ale festival. I’m game for anything involving beer and bbqs so it was a given!
My gorgeous friend Jamie made my weekend by coming out to the countryside (there were haybales. It was rural) all the way from London with boyfriend and pup, and a lovely selection of local friends came out to play too.
Handsome couple of the year goes to… photo pinched from @photogirluk
Another photo pinched from @photogirluk
This one thanks to @kaisalarkas
Come 6pm the heavens opened and we had to retreat inside the pub. A bit of a spoiler, but I learned pretty early on in my drinking career that it’s impossible to plan to visit a beer festival without also planning for torrential rain.
I guess the one thing about being a year older is that it’s not as bad to be 28 and divorced as it is to be 27 and divorced, right? It still feels a little odd to start a new year as a single mum, though from last year the only way is up.
28, let’s be having you.