Mingo.Life

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language. And next year’s words await another voice.” – T.S. Eliot

“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.” – C.S. Lewis

And just like that, 2025 is knocking on the door, wearing that ‘hold my beer’ expression. By the way, if you missed it I highly recommend you check out Part 1, Goodbye 2024: Coffee, Chaos & a Baby. I recapped our year up to the halfway mark, and here I continue the story. Hop on the rollercoaster, strap in, and grab your biscuits and coffee.

First, let us address the concept of a New Year’s resolution. The annual ritual rolls around yet again where we, as a species, convince ourselves that in the blink of an eye, we will transform into perfectly disciplined, gym-going, kale-eating versions of ourselves. It’s the time of year when the internet floods with “new year, new me” slogans, while we all quietly stuff our faces with leftover Christmas chocolates and wait for January 1st to arrive, ready to make lofty promises we know we won’t keep.

The idea behind a New Year’s resolution is simple: ‘This is the year I’ll become the best version of myself.’ But by the time the clock strikes midnight, you’re still the same person who spent the last 12 months binge-watching streaming shows in your pyjamas, pretending that the gym’s monthly membership fee is somehow an investment in your future. The intentions are pure, though.

But the execution? That’s a bit like trying to drive a Ferrari on a muddy country lane. You may start off with great speed and enthusiasm, but by February, you’re sliding sideways into a hedge and wondering where it all went wrong. And yet, every year, we all do it again. The promise of self-improvement, no matter how unrealistic, is something we as humans can’t help but chase. Perhaps it’s the fresh start that does it — a clean slate. Or maybe it’s just the hope that this time, we’ll finally stick to it.

In the end, New Year’s resolutions are a bit like your typical New Year’s Eve party: full of expectation, a little messy, and ultimately, a reminder that some things are better left untouched. Give yourself permission to relax, unwind, and eat and drink over Christmas because hot damn has it been a difficult year. Then, come January, your pessimistic human brain will kick in, and body dysmorphia sweeps across the nation. The truth is, I feel like I need to look after myself too, and so, like many of you, I’ll hit the exercise. Just remember this takeaway if nothing else, though, it’s never about how you look. It’s about who you are as a person that counts. Kindness, compassion, and empathy can’t be bought with a gym membership.

Morbid, bleak outlooks aside, there are some things that 2025 holds for us personally. We’re renewing our vows! Emma and I will have been married for 10 years, which these days is seen as somewhat of an achievement. We went on our honeymoon to the Yucatan, a Mexican peninsula on the Caribbean coast where jungle meets the sea and is home to the modern-day Mayans. We recognise how much we have grown and developed as people in that decade, and so we wanted to secure and reaffirm everything we hold dear to each other, with our nearest and dearest together all in one place under the watchful hot sun cooled by a tropical breeze. You can’t put a price on memories.

We’re also building an extension because parenting is just about needing more space… Constantly. Our little Evelyn will turn 1 year old AND *sharp intake of breath* Poppy will officially be properly school age.

I don’t know quite what challenges 2025 will throw at us, but we’ll deal with it, and we will survive just as we did before. So will you. We find strength in each other and in ourselves. As will you. In 2025, we might all be dodging hurricanes while political leaders are yet again too busy blaming each other for everything from the economy to the latest TikTok trend. Meanwhile, AI might start writing its own reality TV shows, leaving us wondering if we’re being pranked by robots. Russia is a thing, still. And let’s not forget that a new virus could pop up just as we finally stopped using hand sanitiser as cologne. Buckle up. It’s going to be a wild ride. The end of the world is but a heartbeat away.

Before all that, though, take my calloused hand and let me walk you through some more of the moments I found immortalised forever in my dusty leather diary of 2024.

JULY
‘Beach body ready’ really just means showing up with snacks and sunscreen and you all know it.

July 1st: This was the first day of our painful and tedious re-mortgaging journey. 6 months later (December), and we are still waiting to complete that deal. The home extension is planned. We have the designs, but Jimmy, who works at the bank’s under-writing team, just wanted to make things awkward. A real life scrooge, full of anti-Christmas spirit, taking delight in throwing obstacle after obstacle in our path as if financing the future and forever home for our 2 young children was a mere game of Mario Kart. Applying for a mortgage is the modern-day equivalent of medieval torture—only now, they make you do all the paperwork yourself.

July 4th: We voted! Remember that election and all the childish bickering that was shamefully broadcast on prime TV with it? Now, Emma’s not exactly Westminster material. At 8:30pm on election night, our now-current-MP decided to knock on our door, canvassing with just an hour or so left of the polls being open. Odd.
Here’s a freebie for you, my friend: don’t, under any circumstances, bother a knackered Mother of two at 8:30pm, especially when she hasn’t even inhaled her dinner yet owing to aforementioned two kicking off royally.
The man made the mistake of asking, “So, who did you vote for?” Emma, in her infinite, hangry wisdom, responded with, “Not your concern.” And then, with all the grace of a guillotine, she shut the door in his face.
I, naturally, did the British thing: raised an eyebrow, took a long sip of my craft beer, and marvelled at how democracy somehow survives in 2024.

July 5th: Flavour-infused some Vodkas. The results are now in. Fizzy Cola Bottle Vodka kind of works as a fun experiment, but it is not worth the effort. Fizzy Cherry Vodka very much does not work. For some reason, I still have a bottle of what can only be described as a sentient alcoholic Haribo gloop in my garage. I won’t bother sharing the recipe.

July 10th: Baby Evelyn started making what can only be described as dinosaur noises at me. Unsure what to do, I did them back. She laughed. Success!

July 13th: I had surgery. Four wisdom teeth came out due to recurring and dangerous infections in my jaw. You can read all about that wild journey here: Hello, Colin. Today I’m Having 4 Teeth Removed.
And then if you head here, you can read about the struggles I had with my recovery: Expectation vs Brutal Reality.
And finally, here you can find out how I’ve ended up with long-lasting nerve damage on the right side of my face, which even today as I type this is ‘giving me jip’.
So that was a fun couple of weeks.

July 13th: This blog was born.
July 24th: Got ma’ haircut, I’m a cheeky boy.
July 26th: Saw Deadpool vs. Wolverine at the cinema. Film of the year for us, hands down.
July 30th: Suddenly, I discovered I was good at making cocktails. I’m in the wrong job.

AUGUST
Riots, blistering heat, and a proposal that went extremely well.

August 1st: PULLED. FREAKIN. PORK. That is all.
August 2nd: A crazy little stunt plane was performing in the skies above our house. I took Poppy out into the sunshine, and we watched the little thing do loops and rolls. It was a wonderful afternoon!

August 11th: Ah, yes, the riots. Remember that in the news? Where thousands of racists tried to burn down hotels with asylum seekers inside. It was a busy summer all round. I worked far too much, and home life needed more attention than I could give. Emma was unwell and flitting in and out of hospital, too. Here is where I first noticed I was seriously struggling. I ended up with burnout, and only now am I just about getting back in control of that. I’m not ashamed to share that, in the hopes that those out there struggling with what I had may feel empowered to seek some help too. Look after yourself. Really, do.

But things got better…

August 18th: Today, baby Evelyn rolled from her back to her front for the first time. I was there to witness it!

Wednesday 21st August: With kind thanks to the kid’s grandparents for having the little sprogs for some bonding time, I flew Emma and I across to our special place – Fuerteventura. Strictly speaking, I didn’t do the flying – easyJet did. I had a purpose, though…
The flight was smooth enough, and the hotel check-in was efficient. We love the Deutsch populated South side of the island. The resort was TUI Magic Life, and the weather was glorious. Fresh grilled halibut, Spanish Fanta, Cava on the beach, a few games of pool, an evening of dancing… Then it was time.

On the balcony, under a full moon and a clear night sky, I got on one knee and told Emma … “I choose you.” I asked her to renew our vows. Next year is our 10-year wedding anniversary, we have grown so much both as individuals and as a couple since we walked down the aisle of that small Catholic church in 2015. Now, it’s time to make new memories.
Thankfully, dear reader, she said yes.

August 23rd: We got to have the perfect party to celebrate before it was time to come back home. From cotton-eye Joe remixes to our beloved Danza Kuduro, the DJ was on point. Unexpected hits meant we danced for hours, such as the Fresh Prince of Bel Air theme tune and, of course… PERDO PEDRO, PEDRO PED-RO. A lady was handing out shots that had marshmallows in them. That was a choice. It turns out, I can handle my drink a little better than Emma on this occasion – I have never seen someone so aggressively confused by a toastie maker before, whilst the Guarda Civil sat nearby taking their break and some German teenagers buzzed around saying something about new some shoes.

August 24th: Who the F*** doesn’t use headphones on an aeroplane!?
August 25th: Back home to the girls and Evie said, “Da!” For the first time!
August 28th: I purchased a new toilet seat. I don’t really have anything funny to say about that. That was peak excitement for me that day.

SEPTEMBER
Arms up, spades down and pulled pork.

September 1st: I was watching WWE today, and Poppy inadvertently learned a new thing. Every time you say “CHAMPION!” she raises her arms above her head. Now, if that isn’t the cutest thing to happen this year.

September 6th: Linkin Park re-formed, and everyone forgot what year it was.
September 9th: Second cutest moment of the year, Poppy tried to put Mr. Potato head’s glasses on her own head.

September 10th: Our actual wedding anniversary! In a shocking twist of events, I cooked for a change! Here’s the meal I made us, for the culinary minded among you all:
STARTER – Anti-pasti with proscuitto wrapper watermelon, truffle butter, and stuffed vine leaves. Served with traditional sex on the beach.
MAIN – My special! Cracked black pepper & chilli steak served on Pak Choi with rice. The drink was my speciality cocktail, a version of Mai Tai made with Monster Mango Loco.
DESSERT – Okay, I didn’t make this one. I did decorate a chocolate orange tart with blueberries plucked from our garden and made some sort of tipsy weird green potion.

Ever the fan of Pedro the racoon, I was overwhelmed by the hand-made artwork Emma created for me for our anniversary.

September 20th: Ground has been broken! Dad and I started to dig up the garden to check the foundations. Our extension project is officially happening. Watch this space to see how that pans out…
September 21st: Got ma’ haircut, I’m a cheeky boy.
September 22nd: Emma discovered ‘Vinted’. God help us.
September 23rd: MORE PULLED FREAKIN PORK.

OCTOBER
Spooky season. Pumpkin spiced lattes are the best, and I will die on this hill.

October 1st: Corralejo happened. It was quite an adventure, a calamity of errors, but certainly not uneventful. I wrote a four part piece which you can check out here, with appropriate sprinklings of humour and sarcasm in equal measure..

October 10th: Finally recovering from a dreadful virus that unleashed hell in our household (mainly the bathrooms, but not exclusively contained therein), it was back to work and school for all. This blog passed 1000 unique views already on that day, so that was exciting.

October 11th: Never thought of myself as a Radio 4 fan, but their long running comedy show, “I’m Sorry, I Haven’t A Clue,” came to our local town so we got ourselves a balcony box and laughed merrily. If you’re looking for some British improv humour to brighten your commute, check it out.

October 13th: Poppy started pointing. I know this may not seem like much for some, especially for a 4 year old, but with Poppy’s disabilities, believe me when I say… this is huge. This is Poppy’s new way to communicate with us, using pointing to select pictures on a sheet. She also proved her understanding; when we said, “Where’s Mummy,” she pointed! It may sound simple, but it brought a tear to this proud Dad’s eyes.

October 19th: We took the sproglets up to Bristol to the theatre. We saw Blue Man Group! Poppy loved it, and it made my day too. I stood her up, and she raised her arms when everyone else did and danced a little too. She was totally and utterly captivated throughout. Blue Man Group is a sensory delight. The way they play with sound and colour is unbelievable.

October 20th: Completed the Duolingo monthly badge. I’ve mentioned my insane streak before, which I’m proud of (1282 days at the time of writing), but I’ve also done all of the monthly challenges every month since December 2021. Now, I’m not here shilling a language learning app or anything, but gamifying the learning has really helped me stick with it. Ich lerne Deutsch, y me estoy poniendo bastante buena en español también. We don’t talk about how Emma entirely completed the German course in record time…

Halloween! The sproglets are too young for trick or treating yet (and I can’t wait until they can). I somehow had the night off work, so we had a spooky date night! I made some spooktacular cocktails and then realised the perks of being married to a chef. Emma knocked it out of the park. She made German beer cheese, served in a pumpkin with pretzels followed by duck leg and Mexican Mole. Holy Mole. That was a fantastic dinner, and if gluttony is a sin, then I’m going to hell. I didn’t even mention the chocolate fudge cake and cream? I’m going to die happy. Might revisit that gym membership I mentioned at the start, though…

NOVEMBER
Of back-yard explosions, punk rock and a very special day…

November is a very important month for us. Even more so this year. November, you see, is Poppy’s birthday, and this year, she turned 5! I finally had the courage to open up about her difficult arrival into the world and what it means to finally reach this important “milestone.” We had an epic time celebrating as Poppy was showered with gifts and toys from grandparents on both sides. Emma made an incredible cake from scratch, and our little girl was the centre of attention. She didn’t need her word boards that day. Her smiles and laughter said it all.

What else happened in November?

November 2nd: Today, I noticed I had enough BP reward points to bag a £5 amazon voucher. Considering I don’t shop there or buy fuel, that means I’ve consumed a bowel destroying amount of wild bean coffee this year. I spent it on a lock for our milk at work, which one of my team immediately lost along with 2 whole pints of milk. Why do I bother?

November 3rd: On impulse, I bought a box of fireworks. This is the first time I’ve been able to do something for my kids that my Dad used to do for me as a youngling: light explosives at a questionably unsafe distance for the amusement of little faces. I don’t know what they enjoyed more, the sparkles and pops and whizzes or Daddy running away from the alarmingly short lit fuse in blind panic.

November 6th: It started as a wholesome Thursday night plan: kids asleep, wine poured, and a relaxing game of Civilization 5 together. We’d build empires together, we thought. What could go wrong? By turn 20, diplomacy turned passive-aggressive. “Oi, you’re settling there?” she asked, sweetly masking, “You’re in my space, you ****.” I retaliated with, “It’s free real estate—your borders weren’t there yet,” aka, “Finders keepers.” From then on, it was a Cold War. She massed troops “for defence.” I “borrowed” tech ideas with spies. Compliments became veiled threats: “Oh, the Great Library? How nice,” meaning, “Build it first, and I’ll literally throw this knife at you.” By turn 100, we weren’t empires; we were a married couple with an escalating yet aggressively loving grudge. Peace was only brokered when the baby woke up. Civilization 5: where world domination and wedded bliss collide.

November 7th: We saw the delightfully ridiculous Punk Rock Factory in Exeter, blasting out covers of Disney songs, the Hey Arthur theme tune, SpongeBob SquarePants, the Backstreet Boys and a particular highlight for me; the Toys ‘r’ Us TV advert. Most people in that room were 30+ and the Mum & Dad dancing was infectiously painful. We had a great night out, and I said Hey… What a wonderful kind of day!

November 16th: I bought a new potted plant for the downstairs bathroom from Homebase. Named it Pedro. Then they immediately went into administration. Didn’t realise my choice in home décor could sink a large business.

November 19th: Poppy started to show us she could identify basic numbers and colours! So proud.

November 21st: IT SNOWED! The U.K. experienced its first proper snow day in a long, long time. I sang, “Do you want to build a snowman?” excitedly to the sproglets, only to be met with blank stares and an hour later have frostbite in my fingers. Still, the efforts were worth it. I built a frickin’ snowman.

DECEMBER
It’s the most wonderful time of the year… For your bank account.

December 1st: The Christmas decorations are up! We have a house rule not to get them out until after Poppy’s birthday. Fellow Dad’s, something incredible happened. Not one of the Christmas lights were tangled and all of them were working just fine. A Christmas miracle.

December 9th: For the first time in 15 years I went ice skating. Now my back hurts.

December 10th: Evelyn said “Dada” today! Just out of the blue when she saw me. My heart grew three sizes that day (wildly unhealthy, I should see someone about that).

December 13th: Friday 13th, in fact. Forked out £500 to repair my car and get it through the M.O.T. The very next morning the battery died. I am so done with it. Hello, eBay.

December 16th: The big Christmas shop. A festive tradition as British as apologizing when someone steps on your foot. It’s the day where logic takes a backseat, your trolley becomes a battering ram, and every supermarket feels like the set of a post-apocalyptic film where people are fighting over the last turkey crown. True selfish attitudes come boiling to the fore front, as we fight to fill Tesco’s heaving pockets with our hard earned cash. This year, I went in with a plan—a meticulous, well-thought-out shopping list. It took precisely 3 minutes before it descended into chaos. The worst part? The snack aisle. It’s like Christmas snacks are designed by sadists: tubs of chocolates you pretend will last until New Year, twiglets that nobody actually enjoys, and a selection of nuts so vast you need a PhD to figure out which ones aren’t salted. By the time we reached the checkout, I had 14 kinds of cheese, 6 boxes of crackers, and no memory of putting half of it in the trolley.
We got home, unpacked it all, and realized we’d forgotten the bread.

December 17th: Got ma’ haircut… still a cheeky boy.

What a year.

As the year draws to a close and we look ahead to 2025, I can’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. Life has been a rollercoaster, filled with chaos, challenges, and plenty of laughter, and yet, we’ve made it through, together. This Christmas, let’s hold onto the simple joys—shared moments, the warmth of family, and Will Ferrell screaming “SANTA’S COMING!” on our screens. So here’s to a new year filled with peace, happiness, and hopefully fewer trips to the emergency room. Merry Christmas to all, and may your 2025 be even more ridiculous than this year. Cheers!