Excessive Behaviour



So I’ve written before about being an ‘extreme’ parent. You can swot up on that here if you can be bothered. If not, quick summary: Loving being a parent so much I could burst with joy – or hating it in it’s entirety. I kind of thought that this was a child related thing but on reevaluating things I have discovered that this actually applies to most things in life for me. I have zero self restraint and do everything to excess, or not at all. I’m a pretty tiring person to be around TBH.

People with self restraint completely beguile me. They are fascinating. Like a rare breed. I have to stop myself prodding them with a stick and asking them about their natural habitat. You know the people, you may even be one of them: they carefully unwrap a chocolate, after taking ages to select one from the strange little chocolate menu. And then they STOP. They’ve had enough, they’re ‘full’. Absolutely fascinating. Never bothered with the menu myself. If the decision has been made, those chocs are going down the hatch. Don’t even care which one, snort them or eat them they are all as good as gone once the packet is open. Don’t like one? Take one for the team – eat it, and then treat myself with another one to take away the taste.

And booze. Beautiful, regretful, delicious booze. Love wine, hate hangovers. No longer have the resilience to wine that I spent my youth building up and suffer so badly. Never again. Just the one for me next time. Definitely. Will show restraint next time. Absolutely. Next time I am going home EARLY, I will get up EARLY and go for a run, I will be a good example.

But the very next time I bid my good intentions fare thee well. I pop them on the night bus home with a peck on the cheek and am subsequently found trying to start a conga around a nightclub and debating intensely about topics I know NOTHING about. Like self restraint.

Examples of the self restrained species in a few different scenarios:

Cinema –

Self restrained species: ’Do you want to share my popcorn in the cinema?’

Me: ‘I absolutely do not want to do that. I will spend the entire film wondering how you are managing to have one kernel every 22 minutes when I have usually scoffed the entire lot before the film has started’.

Pub –

Self restrained species: ‘I’m just having the one. Need to drive home’

Me: ‘Right ok. But if you like one of my kids could drive you back. No seriously, they’re really good in the Little Tykes car, the roof is surprising comfortable. Otherwise I have a very bad feeling this night is going to end with me having overdone things and showing everyone how high I can kick my leg whilst you hover by the door with my bag waiting to get home. Again’.

Me this weekend –

So this weekend I didn’t do any high kicks (I didn’t did I? Could explain the groin strain). But I did make a speech. A shit speech in front of a lot of people. And after spending the next day cringing anytime anyone said speech I have decided to face it head on and write about it here.

We were basically celebrating all of our birthdays in one celebration as we all have birthdays in the summer. Cumulatively we are 75 so we had a joint 75th birthday. It’s nearly as weird as the time I threw a fake Christmas office work party when I missed going to Christmas parties. Nearly but not quite. And I didn’t make any speeches. Although I was booed. But that’s another story (party games need RULES people).

To save you the full speech (of which I had minimal recollection) here is a summary: (I was kindly sent a video of it by several people the next day – clearly they had forgotten all about it).

First 22 minutes* – spent talking about the fact that I am going to make a speech.

Middle minute – something incomprehensible about the band, call someone a drum member (yes – I know, that’s not a thing) lots of shrugging and mumbling.

Last  83 minutes* – I tell everyone that it’s been a bad year, but a good year, but a very hard year, but a good year. Repeat. Times 10.

(*Timings are an approximate estimation of what time felt like for everyone involved)

It was bad. Nearly as bad as the time I got voted out of a comedy club (yeah, that actually happened – evicted from the audience like a really strange episode of Big Brother) but at least I didn’t know EVERYONE at the comedy club.

What I wanted to say (I think) was that this was the year we welcomed our third child into the world and although sometimes things seem peachy to the outside world, like everyone else, we have had our difficulties. But the party marked the end of that year, and the beginning of a new year. Bringing in a fresh start in the best possible way with lots of friends and family in our garden celebrating all of us getting older – which is a privilege, and a liberty denied to many people and something that should always be celebrated. Always.

And although that wasn’t what I said (remotely) – it’s what I’m saying now.

And if I were to do it again it’s what I would say. Along with the normal things such as ‘thanks for coming and humouring us by celebrating a fictional milestone for me and my family’.

Naaaaaw who I am I kidding, if I was to do it again I would probably have too much Prosecco and say exactly the same thing I said last time.

I guess the take home message is don’t let me make a speech again. Ever. Under any circumstance.


In other news I would like to win a Mumsnet Blogger Award. If you think I’m the ideal candidate to make a speech at this award ceremony (onnnnnly kidding – no speeches, proms) then you can vote for me here.

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  1. Love reading your blog Hattie. Wish I could have been there to hear your speach and drink prosecco with you! Your antics sound a lot like mine! Happy 75th you crazy lot! Xx

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