A letter to myself ten years hence.

Ever wished you could charter a Time Machine and have a little word with your younger self? You know, maybe warn them that that many candles burning all at once in a biscuit tin on the carpet in your student room was *bound* to end in tears?

No, me neither. It would spoil all the fun.

I mean, knowing the outcome to all those impulsive, frivolous, immature totally EPIC student activities would take the shine off your youth, wouldn't it? Certainly the scarily few frivolous and immature fun activities I enjoyed as a student stood me in good stead. It was the one time in my life I felt "free", whatever that means.

Going back a little earlier..... maybe. A good dose of common sense and "focus on what matters" might have helped during those fragile teenage years, but let's face it, I did pretty well at school and was never going to win any popularity awards.

But how about ten years hence? What pearls of wisdom would a fifty year old me impart to her younger self? I could cheat and ask my other half, having already hit the big 5-0 he claims to have most of - or at least the essential - answers in life. Perhaps not the ability to act on them but knowledge is power, right?

I suspect my letter from the future would go something like this....

Dear Kate,

Calm down.

Yes, the free-from quiche languishing on your kitchen work top with the surface licked off by an over-enthusiastic cat with delusions of her own importance might indeed seem like the end of the world.... but - really? I mean, what ELSE would happen to it? It's not as if the kids are going to EAT it, is it?

There is at least a 90% chance of it ending up in the bin having been prodded and pushed around on the twins' plates as they bemoan the fact that tea isn't more exciting, whereas you just made your furry friend's day. You ROCK. No cat ever had it so good! And let's face it, there is a greater chance of years of consistent affection from the cat than any of the kids - and cats don't answer back!

And whilst we're at it - the cooking. It has to stop. There are umpteen off the shelf alternatives to make your life easier.... the kids are not even the teensiest bit grateful for the ridiculous amount of time and energy you invest in their future health. Short of gorging themselves on Haribo no amount of cheap fillers and additives in the supermarket "free from" food aisle is going to cause too much damage - at least in relation to the bigger problems they are likely to face. Face it, the world has *had* it, and trying to save it one houmous pot at a time is likely to have as much impact as posting pictures of cats on Instagram. At least people like cats.

And on the subject of making your life easier, you need to step back a little. Surprisingly, few people are held back in life by the lack of a second language anymore. Ever heard of Google Translate? Cut yourself some slack, improve the Health and Safety of your son's teachers and let the languages go. Let him drop French and his overall behaviour in school might move back into the yellow.
Green? That might take more of an Act of God. But yellow is a start, yes?

As for all the health cr*p you have going on, I hate to say it, but it isn't going anywhere. You are wasting your time having a nervous breakdown fretting over the various debilitating symptoms so I will let you in to a secret.

There are no answers. Still. Ten years on, no one has a clue. 

Surprised? You shouldn't be. The NHS was going belly-up back in 2014, things are considerably worse now. The light at the end of the tunnel has been well and truly turned off due to budget cuts, but no one's dead yet - and although there is serious room for improvement it could be worse.

Possibly.

My advice? Get across the Pond and get some serious genetic input whilst your husband has a job and his eyesight.

Oh... and that social life you keep hankering after? It will happen. If only because you are trekking round the country helping with the grandchildren. With allergies.

Touché.