Life has been busy since I last posted. The baby is now most definitely a toddler, the husband is still long-suffering and I have entered into a new decade, having celebrated my 30th birthday earlier this month. And when I say celebrated, I mean celebrated.
My mum and I cooked for three days straight, 72 cupcakes were made and a live five-piece band set themselves up in my house. The party was a late one (4am finish!) and I had all of my friends and family helping me sink the sparkling wine.
All in all, I had a ball. Which is what turning 30 should be about.
Except I spent the next two weeks recovering. Apparently my husband kept telling people, as a bopped about the make-shift dance floor in our conservatory, that I would be 'good for nothing' once the hangover wore off. And he, as he always is, was right.
The bottom line is simple. I am not fit to party like I did when I was 21 (and those were the days when I REALLY partied!) Yes, age and motherhood has taken its toll. But multiple sclerosis is the main culprit in keeping this good girl down.
My legs haven't been the same since, the pain levels have ratcheted up, not a notch but twenty, and I am starting to understand my own limitations. Tough and all as that is to admit.
The truth is that I need to start taking life just a wee bit easier.
But, in light of this revelation, the question remains ... 'Would I celebrate my 30th any differently, given the second chance?'
And of course the answer is easy ... Of course not!
I've always said that I would LIVE my life following diagnosis, and I would like to think I'm doing just that.