I know, I think this might be the latest I’ve ever posted one of these. And I was just going to leave it – it feels irrelevant to relive 2016 halfway through January, not to say depressing – but I was surprised: it cheered me right up. Looking through all our photos, remembering the small, lovely things that happened in-between and underneath and despite the cataclysmic world events. Perhaps there’s something to be salvaged there, after all.
Anyway, here’s a map of 2016 in photos, tweets about bodily functions, and interesting things to read. Feels like it was made for your next long bathroom break, so hey: take fifteen minutes on me behind a locked door, while your children yell for status updates on your evacuations.
The January where we had literally no idea what was coming
An American broccoli and cheese soup recipe.
Frozen broccoli – ok
Cornstarch – um
1 loaf processed cheese food GET OUT GET OUT GET IN THE SEA
***
I know I should turn my nose up at chicken dippers, but I can’t ever truly disapprove of apostrophe-shaped food.
I read and loved:
This TOTALLY CONVINCING take-down of why Aragorn had no right to the throne of Gondor.
And I wrote:
An impassioned defence of Always Taking The Damn Nap, Yes Always.
The February Heath Ledger and I Were Not The Same
Hey casual acquaintances! Just to say all my weirdness stems from my laser-focussed and obsessive attempts to seem less weird.
***
Sometimes I think that Heath Ledger dancing to Golden Years in A Knight’s Tale is one of the most exquisite moments in our human history.
(It is, though.)
I read and loved:
This convincing explanation for why Harry Potter in Book Five is the absolute worst.
A gorgeous thing about To Kill a Mockingbird and our inner Scout Finches.
And I wrote:
Something about David Bowie, and hawks, and dancing with toddlers (this is my favourite thing I wrote all year. Peaked early).
A controversial (as it turned out) article about how all two-year-olds are irrational tyrants, and we should definitely stop saying they aren’t.
The March We Survived A Transatlantic Flight With Small Children
2YO: I want a snack
Me: what kind? You’re already eating porridge
2YO: a…a green snack
Me: be more specific
2YO: I waaaant…porridge
***
I remember being a kid and consciously deciding that Belle ate the Be Our Guest food off-screen, because otherwise the waste was too annoying.
I read and loved:
Hilary Mantel (argh!) on Henry VIII’s bearded, Queen-stealing best friend (argh!).
This thing that basically confirmed my suspicion that Ben Affleck is a forever dirtbag.
And I wrote:
About Harry Potter and my teenaged life (terrible photos aplenty).
This piece for Selfish Mother about what happens once you’re out of the newlywed unicorn phase.
The April We Saw Lots of Beautiful America (Before, You Know, All That)
2YO, gagging gently, w. soap dispenser: urgh, soap
Me: did you put soap in your mouth?
2YO: yep
Me: why?!
4YO, wearily: it looks like syrup
***
Ate my 1st avocado-on-toast, so now I go to Instagram Heaven where all surfaces are white & food comes with hydrangea heads at a polite distance.
I read and loved:
This fascinating long-read about a woman with no long-term memory.
A gorgeous tribute to the late, great Victoria Wood.
And I wrote:
A piece about the most reliably thorny question in our marriage: who’s doing all the work?
The May It Was Actually Warm, No, I’m Being Serious, Take Your Coat Off
Getting a bit of Stockholm syndrome with this Eurovision presenter: he’s got more attractive the more HOURS this has gone on.
***
Went for my first run in about six months today, and this evening my legs are like ‘can u not’.
I read and loved:
This invaluable collection of beauty recommendations for all age groups, by Sali Hughes (whom I love).
And I wrote:
An article about body acceptance and shame.
An ode to babies-no-longer-babies.
And a Selfish Mother piece I had to screw up all my courage for, about gender-flipping periods.
The June We Spent Mostly Outside, Trying To Ignore That Other News Thing
I am making lists and 2YO is in the garden.
Me: you alright out there?
2YO. Yes! Do some work, OK?
Me: …ok.
***
Boy sneezes deliberately on the back of brother’s neck: a new low in sibling warfare.
I read and loved:
If Barack Obama Were Your Dad (gave myself whiplash clicking on this too fast).
The Unbelievable Tale of Jesus’ Wife, a juicy saga about academic detective work, history and fraud.
And I wrote:
A bit of hope for the toddler mothers: it’s going to get better.
A piece for TalkMum about keeping your hobbies and self intact after children arrive.
The July Outlander Finally Went Too Far
The fact that Claire would eat a Hershey bar after growing up in England is the most unbelievable thing in the Outlander book series so far.
***
Ten minutes into the car journey, I am now convinced that the thing on my rear wiper is a decent chunk of brown bread. #parenting
I read and loved:
This unbelievably cheering profile of a man who was stabbed on the Tube, and bounced back like a legend (I’m being flippant because I can’t do justice to it in a sentence: go read).
‘I Will Bear Witness, Though Heavy Laden’ (sob).
And I wrote:
T’s three-year-old birthday letter.
A teary goodbye to H’s first year at school.
The August With All The Secret Cheese Crackers and Crying
The thing I have learned is you shouldn’t start using any phrase ironically bc your brain is like ‘cool, incorporating into vocab forever’. I am now a person who says ‘100%’ when I mean ‘definitely, absolutely’, so I am only fit for The Apprentice and quiet shame.
***
Sat here in an empty house wincing, aloud, over gingerbread avalanches. What a time to be alive. #GBBO
I read and loved:
What came next after Bones inexplicably reversed death and never mentioned it again in that Star Trek film (BEST. BEST.)
A hilarious look through a seventies Happy Bride cookbook.
And I wrote:
H’s five-year-old birthday letter.
An angry post about token girls and token helicopters in kids’ TV.
The September of School, and Nursery, and Babies
Parental maths: if I did breakfast yesterday and last Sunday but @mrjeffcoat got up with 3YO in the night, who does breakfast today? Show your working.
***
I just accidentally sat on a big blob of breakfast porridge and for a moment thought I’d managed to poop my pants by osmosis #miracle
I read and loved:
I am sorry about both of these, but I weep with laughter every time: this calculation of the exact amount of banter in that photo of the Eton boys meeting Vladimir Putin (remember that?); also, this weird and wonderful thing about the fox on Splash Mountain coming disturbingly to life.
The power of internet friendships, by the founders of The Toast (I love them both, and this is beautiful).
And I wrote:
An honest appraisal of the first trimester, third time around (spoiler: it sucks).
A piece for TalkMum about five things you shouldn’t worry about when your baby starts school.
The October Facebook Sassed Back
Since I shut down my Facebook newsfeed (<3) I get this message there instead: ‘You’d have more items if you added more friends’. Pure sass.
***
Me: it’s wet. Let’s just walk in our woods and then fetch something to bake.
5YO: or! We could play here in the warm and then have a calm lunch.
I read and loved:
This lovely bittersweet article about tracking our different lives on Google Maps.
I will read anything that trashes ‘clean eating’ for the dangerous nonsense it is: this is sensible and good.
And I wrote:
When is a roast chicken not a roast chicken? When it’s this.
The November We Won’t Talk About Except In Trivialities Like The Below
Marriage is two consecutive text messages: one recording in loving detail the consistency of our child’s vomit, the next, filthy innuendo.
***
Me: [sigh] 5YO, just let him do what he wants
This is the youngest-child-rearing policy I never meant to have, yet somehow do have at 5.30pm
I read and loved:
How a Kashmiri mother’s cooking bound her to her daughter.
Behind the scenes of a full-time carer in Anne of Green Gables – one of the best things I read all year, this.
And I wrote:
This about why it’s important to be a bit of a rubbish parent sometimes.
The December We Stayed Home For Christmas And Now We’ll Never Do Anything Else
5YO: so then you tie our laces together
Me: right. Why?
5YO: for the game
Me: I want you to know I’m doing this against my better judgement
***
Does it hurt?’
‘I’ve got other stuff that hurts more’
‘Like what?’
‘Things from my past’ <-the point where I decided this book was Not Good
I read and loved:
Something we desperately needed by this point: eight ordinary heroes from 2016
And this very heartfelt, touching letter to the midwife who blew in with the snow
And I wrote:
An installment of Notes from the Trenches with, could it be, a little less excrement than usual?
Maybe the small things in this year will turn out to be unexpectedly cheering too? Here’s hoping.
