Midlife Crisis or...

Probably a ramble

Hello people of the internet! I’m Ross, and I’m back with a ramble. If at any point during the course of this ramble you think “I am thoroughly enjoying this,” then please hit the little heart/like button that’s on here somewhere. Sometimes I’ll do a newsletter that’ll get read - or opened, god knows if people read it - by 3500 people and it’ll get ZERO likes or comments. So I have no idea if anyone actually likes these.

Midlife Crisis or...

Not gonna lie, I wrote that opening paragraph 3 or 4 days ago and I obviously had something on my mind that was implying I was perhaps having a midlife crisis. I don’t know what that was now. I saved this as a draft and moved on with my day. But future Ross is here to finish off what past Ross started - what a fucking shock.

But I am here to talk bollocks, so that is one thing all the Ross’s have in common.

I guess I’m here to talk about two intertwined feelings and bring them together into some sort of coherent - it won’t be - ramble. Today I’m going to talk about nostalgia and reminiscing. They’re basically the same, right? I guess reminiscing is more about the act of recalling the past, and nostalgia is the emotional state that often accompanies it.

Anyway, the main reason I’m going to talk about all this bollocks is because I’ve inadvertently been thinking about it. You know, the whole “looking back” thing. Rachel was looking through some old shite - she called it cleaning, but whatever - and then I started looking back at older photos of us from our first year of moving out - which is 10 years this year!

Don’t get me wrong, it was mostly photos of Elsie. I was, and always have been, a sucker for that dog. She’s 10 this year. Don’t even remind me of the life expectancy of dachshunds. She’s still as fit as a fiddle and doesn’t look a day past 4 - minus the odd grey hair. But naturally it made me pause and reflect on life somewhat.

It’s kinda weird as you grow older. When you’re young, the concept of reminiscing doesn’t really exist. Sure, you can think back on things. Isabelle can somewhat reflect on previous years, or memories, but it’s not quite the same is it? There’s no bitter-sweet pang to it. There’s no looming sense of time overshadowing you when you’re 6 either. But as you grow up, this feeling that comes when you’re reminiscing only intensifies.

Thinking about the kids…

I thought about Isabelle then too. The fact that the “child-like” part of her childhood feels like it’s in its evening. She’ll be 7 next year. Meaning she’ll only have a few more years before the pre-teen years kick in and all the things that once felt magical will soon lose some of their sparkle.

It almost brings me to tears somewhat. I don’t know why. I think it’s this feeling that she’s growing up, and perhaps I am too. That this little girl won’t always be a little girl. I know I’ll get this feeling with Archie and Teddy too, but inevitably it’ll always hit first with Isabelle.

I think that’s part of the reason I don’t feel done with three kids.

I joked about it on a post on Facebook for me and Archie’s birthday, but we’re also pretty serious about it.

Kids are hard work a LOT of the time. But it’s also an incredible journey to be a part of. You literally get to watch someone physically, mentally, and emotionally grow. It’s like having a plant, but not shit.

Me and Rachel have jokingly said “January 2025” to each other when things are a nightmare. Perhaps Teddy is kicking off, or we don’t have enough time for something. That’s because that’s when Teddy will be able to start school - or rising 3s. Truth is though, I don’t really want the next phase to start. The “all the kids in school” phase.

Maybe this is my midlife crisis. Most people buy a silly car, or get into something stupid like smoking cigars - ah bollocks. Meanwhile I just reproduce. And sure, I’ll openly hold my hand up and say I can’t be arsed for the baby stage. Zero to one is an unenjoyable ball ache. But, just like a dentist who might not enjoy doing fillings, I’m a professional, and I’m perfectly capable of handling it.

The only worry…

To be honest, I’m not worried about handling 4 kids - I have said I’ll be done at 5 - it’s more the business that’s my worry. What if it struggles more? What if this recession lasts longer? What if we can’t manage to balance four kids AND the business? Then I just think what I always tend to think when dealt with tough choices.

Fuck it.

I’ll give myself and Rachel a pat on the back, as in fairness, we manage. Fuck that, we more than manage. For the most part we do a good job balancing it all. And neither of us are even on drugs, which is amazing. We barely drink in the night either.

We do send rambling shite to people on the internet though. Ok, that’s just me.

We both have our occasional doubts as parents - Rachel more than me but that’s because she worries more. But I think we do a good job.

And I fucking love the process. I love the fact I get to be in the proverbial trenches with the kids on a daily basis. I love the chaos, the stress, the busyness, the juggling, the fucking it up, the getting it right, the love, the laughs, the shouts.

I genuinely feel blessed. So why not put more of my blessing inside Rachel? Not that I call it my blessing. That would be weird. And possibly arrogant.

But I would get to watch another human grow and turn into an adult. It’s legit the coolest shit you can do. Sure, we’ll be broke as fuck and unable to travel anywhere because 95% of places hate families with more than 2 kids. But we’ve already fucked that up with 3.

I looked at cruises the other day - shits and giggles and all that - and P&O practically told me to fuck off.

I said I have two adults and three kids, they said “book two cabins you nonce.”

They didn’t use those words exactly. But the sentiment was there.

So I can’t afford to go on a cruise with 3 kids, nor will P&O even let me. So I’ll show them by having 4. Or 5. Ha!

My point is, life gets harder when you hit 3. Life doesn’t really change much when you get to 4. Or 5. Or fuck it, let’s be one of those families that has 12 kids and gets a TV show. Or a fuck load of money off the government. Just count it as a VAT refund.

So yeah…

We won’t be trying yet. I think we’re going to start somewhere around - Rachel kindly asked me to take the date out, so I will - UNDISCLOSED DATE HERE.

For £100,000 I will let you watch the inception though. Although it’s probably hard to know which one is the actual inception, right?

Side note: Fucking hang on, so Rachel wanted the date taken out, which I did. But she’s cool with leaving AN ACTUAL OFFER to people to watch us bang? That’s ok then? There we go, if you have a £100k hanging around, why not get in touch. Rachel said upfront £60k deposit. Makes sense, otherwise someone might not even pay after we’ve done it. Not sure what the etiquette is for this sort of thing anyway.

Or, if you’d like to support our quest of starting a in-house workforce - hey, kids could be seen as a future business investment, right? - then I can give you other options instead.

Side note: I don’t care if the kids want to carry on the business when they’re older. I want them to live their life, not mine.

Ways that cost you money

You can support us by buying shit. Like we’ve just added more beginner boxes.

Or even a new Naughty Gift box. That one has an electric burner with it!

Or just other shit if you want.

Then you have JamDoughnut, which doesn’t technically cost you money. Use the code ZVBT.

Speaking of free ways to help…

FREE ways to support us

To be fair, you don’t even have to spend money. You can just engage with content, share stuff or tell someone about us, or if you’re REALLY bored, you can go on Isablog and click a Google ad and then Google will eventually pay me for it.

I should change the theme on it as it looks a bit shit these days. But to think, all of this started because of that website. If you wanna talk about nostalgia and reminiscing, Isablog certainly does that for me. Even the name does. God time goes quick.

But yeah, you don’t have to do shit, I just thought I’d give you some options. There are probably lots more but it would look proper wanky to list out things for you to do to help us. You read this didn’t you? Surely that’s enough for one day.

So I’ll leave you at that. Substack tells me this takes 7 minutes to read, so thank you for giving me 7 minutes of your time. FYI, it took me 45+ minutes to write, so I had it MUCH harder.

Thank you! And I’ll catch you all again.

Much love,

Ross & Rachel x