My sons favourite present this year... a cardboard box and the apple and orange in his stocking. 

It’s the simple things.

Each morning my son an I have a conversation about what we want to be today, a boy or a girl.

Each day he decides, sometimes boy, sometimes girl, sometimes both (a goy as he calls it) and sometimes neither. 

Today he is a goy lion.

I’m ok with that.

The Mountain Goats - This Year

Everyone suddenly discovering this song and saying it sums up their 2020. 

This song is my anthem every fucking year.

My car broke down again, the laptop is hanging together with tape as i try and write my dissertation, i can’t pay the rent and we only have cereal left. 

Got mum-shamed again for not letting my son have sweets or chocolate. 

He thinks raisins are sweets and a carrot is a treat. Get over it Shelly. 

A girl asked my son why he was wearing a girls dress. He replied it was actually a boys dress.

Since when did clothes have a gender.

I was moaning about having wet feet. 

My 4 year old said he told me to wear my wellies and i didn’t listen. 

Parents need parenting.

I never lied this much before I became a parent.

Where has the food gone - the fairies ate it.

Why did you say shit - because god said I could

Why can't i eat sweets - because you're allergic

What type if cloud is that - a fluffinelingo cloud

I slept with someone for money so I could afford to buy my son a christmas present.

Everyone else is getting something homemade this year.

son: why do people die

- shit ok lets keep this simple -

me: ok well sometimes people’s bodies stop working and they die. It’s ok though, they’ve often had good lives and they’re often ready to leave.

son: So... do they put they’re shoes on before they go.

My son now thinks people be saying bye bye, popping they’re shoes on and jumping in a box.

I told my son the fairies ate the last hot cross bun. He hasn’t found my wings yet.

Toilet paper all over the kitchen. My son blames the cat. they are both looking at me. They both look guilty.  I walk away and lock myself in the bathroom. Ten minutes later i realise there is no toilet paper.

My four-year-old an I had an argument. It played out like this.... Him (after stubbing his toe): “Shit” Me: (After secretly appreciating the use of the word in good context): Can we use a different word please.  Him: It’s not even a real word. Me: It is, it means poo. Him: No it’s fake! Me: No it’s real and rude and people might find it offensive if you say it too much. *INSERT TANTRUM* It was at this point i realised just how pathetic my parenting had become that we were arguing about well... shit. 

I let my son wear a dress to school today. He was beaming in amongst the purple and the unicorns. I pray none of the other kids say anything mean. I don’t want him to lose his sweet innocence. My neighbour still thinks he’s a girl. When i’m around to defend him i don’t worry. It’s when i can’t be there to stand up for his freedom that i panic.