Mr 3 becomes Mr 4.....

So you'll be noticing a new character in my blogerations from now on.
No, I haven't had another child - may I be struck down by a speeding rubbish truck at dawn before that happens... (not to be too dramatic about it...)

My beloved Mr 3, having become a staple source of inspiration for my musings has turned 4.

I have many times shared snippits of our loooong days of stimulating conversation about important things, like Where Dreams Are...:

Me: They're in your head
Mr3: No, where, ARE they?
Me:They're in your sleep
Mr3: No WHERE ARE they???
Me: (whimpering in the corner) theyre in the air all around the place
Mr3: (thinks for a while)  Like, in heaven?
Me: Yes, like in heaven.
Mr3: But, WHY are they?

Anyhoo, He is 4 now. So, his conversation and sniper-like questioning is WAY more sophisticated.

Mr4: When will I be just bones?
Me: A long time after you die
Mr4: When will I be just blood then?
Me: Never
Mr4: But, why?
Me: (shiiiiit I walked right into that!!!)

All jokes aside though, while he does work steadily away at my life expectancy each day with his darling little inquisitive mind, he really is the most disarming little fellow. He loves to make people laugh, he'll do ANYTHING for his big sister, and he lets me cuddle and kiss him to bits more than any child his age would normally tolerate.

To mark his big number 4 birthday, I thought I would give you a little insight to the real man behind the character. Here are 5 things you probably didn't know about Mr 4:

1. He is rarely out of costume.
Current favourites include Darth Vader (never seen the movie but loves a cape and a mask), lion with big fluffy mane (too cute to mention!), Christmas elf (or OLF as he calls it) and Daddy Pig from Peppa Pig (pillow up the shirt and Dad's shoes).

2. He thinks he is the coolest thing ever. And its possible he might just be. He totally digs Elvis, what more do you need to know.

3. His favourite song is 'One Love' by Bob Marley, and he loves the bit where they sing "lets get together and feeeel aaaalright". His favourite colour is orange.

4. He calls chop sticks 'pork chops'.

5. He wants "a different name". He is trying out 'Black Star' but he's not sure yet.

Here is something I don't normally do, a real photo of my boy. Lucky he's cute hey, I think nature gave him that blessing to help him survive the Mummy he pushes so very close to the edge each day.
Love you, Boy.

Crafty Christmas Cheer........

So, felt a little bit crafty today....
I have been toying with a few Christmassy things I could do with the kids. I will share anything that turns out to be non-embarassing. I also promise to work on my photography.
I am not really sure what percentage of my loyal readership is into craft, but its my blog so sit back and enjoy...

First project I wanted to try, and also start a new tradition, is a front door decoration.
I plan to do a new one each year.
I am in to the traditional wreath as much as the next suburbanite diva, but I thought I'd try something different. 

Here is what I needed:

Christmas decorations (three part stars which I separated from one another)
Jute twine (I love this stuff)
A eucalyptus branch (or you know, what ev's) I just love the colour and texture of the ol' gum tree

Look, its not brain surgery, I tied the long bits of just twine on the branch with equidistant spacing in mind. I tied bows and put a little blob of PVA glue under each so they don't slide around.

Then I tied the stars on in random spacings... I had pictured a star shower, awwww.

And here is the final product.
I wanted something pretty and joyful but non-traditional and you should know I HATE GLITTER. (I know, I know....... but I do.) So whilst I chose very glittery stars, I counterbalanced them with humble jute and wood. See what I did there?

Dodgy photography doesn't do justice to the cuteness. Hope you like it!
Its shabby chic meets aussie bush glamour noel.... LOVE!

Cheese Grater's and Evil Bastard's.....

Hey lovely readers.
Long time no see.
Hope you've survived alright whilst we've been apart.
This break has probably been good for us, you know, help us appreciate each other....

he he he he........

Truth:
I have taken Mr 3 out of preschool and now I have the pleasure of his company 7 days a week.
Seven.
Thats all the days in the week.
ALL of them.
With none left out.
Not. A. One.
Each. And. Every. One.

Remember those two sacred day a week I used to have to myself that made me a nicer mummy and wife?
Yeah, gone.

If you've met my little man, you'll know he is a pocket rocket.
Full of beans.
Larger than life.
And a cheese grater to the nerves.

Lucky he makes me laugh....

Bless him, its not his fault his preschool was sub-standard and fleecing us to the hilt.
Anyway that's my excuse for not having kept you amused these past weeks.
Forgive me.
And pity me.
In equal measures......

So, what I really sat down to write about tonight is much more serious. Kind of heart-breaking actually...
Some of you will know that in the smallish community which I live, there has been the very sad death of a young mum, who, last week lost her battle with cancer.
Let me be clear about one thing: I did not know this lady.
And one other thing: I have been deeply effected by her passing.

She left behind two beautiful young boys, and from the moment my friend told me of this lady's plight, I have felt a heavy lump in my chest.
I cant tell you why I find myself so struck by this story. Maybe because she was part of my community. Maybe because I lost my mum a year and a half ago. Maybe because she was my age. Maybe because she left behind a loving husband and two son's who have been so brutally robbed of their protector, their teacher, their nurturer, their mummy.

She left instructions that her funeral was to be a celebration - and sadly, or thankfully she had plenty of time to discuss these details as she fought bravely for years with the evil bastard that is cancer.
Her request that her friends and family remember her with laughter and gladness is a testimony to what must have been an incredible woman.

I don't have any witty or philosophical summary to end this post. I just wanted to share this story and come what may for you. Perhaps you're saddened like me, or inspired, or grateful....

If you have a moment, please spend a little time thinking of those young boy's. Perhaps a prayer if that's your thing. Love to you all.

50 Shades of Bitch....

Example of conversation when my husband went back to work on Monday this week:

Colleague: So, how was your weekend?

TDH: Yeah, OK. I got to see both my wives this weekend.

Colleague: Huh?

TDH: Yeah I have 2 wives. Christine and Darthveena.... they both live in the same body, one is my normal wife and the other is an evil mutant witch who sometimes posses her and make my life a complete living nightmare.

Colleague: Ah. Right. OK. So.... I'll catch you later yeah?

True story. Or at least veeeery likely to be a true story.

So I had one of those days on the weekend, you know where you're pretty sure everyone is out to make you flip your lid. When you're sailing really close to the edge of what is normal and sane. Some people call is PMS, I like to call it 50 Shades of Bitch, cause let's face it, that's what it is....

YOU tell ME, are these the actions of a sane woman?

1. When I went to find a scrap of paper to jot down these ideas, all the pieces seemed way to small and annoying, which made me HURL my pen across the room. (Mid flight, I actually hoped it might smash the window.....)

2. The brown papery skin on the onions, which is unnerving at the best of times, lets face it, was sticking to my fingers and flying all over the kitchen floor and almost caused me to become COMPLETELY UNHINGED.

3. I couldn't find my mobile phone - I didn't actually need it, but the frustration almost caused me to fling myself on the floor... I actually looked around for a space big enough. My husband caught a proper mouthful of venom for the missing phone - he found it (irritatingly), just where I had left it. Idiot.

4. I overheard my husband speaking in hushed and urgent tones to the children in the bath: "quickly, quickly mop up this mess before mum see's....... quick guys, please!" I'd go so far as to say he was pleading..... what did he think would happen???

5. My friends called and said I should go spend the evening with them, to give my family a BREAK..... they even offered to tie me up if I got "feral". When I asked hubby what he thought about my going, he sat very quiet and still and avoided my gaze for some reason.....

6. When I presented Mr 3 with grilled cheese on toast for lunch, and he had the AUDACITY to complain, I got down to his eye level and said in a perhaps overly sinister voice:
"Mister. You. Are. Dancing. With. The. Devil!"
(To which he replied "What?")

So...... I have another 44 examples of things which completely INCENCED me on Saturday. If I am very honest, they might not have been necessarily reasonable situations in which it would have been appropriate to mame someone - which I didn't.
But thank FECK I only get PMS about once a year - when I do though, Darthveena is a Halloween Spectacular.

Happy Monday's....

God I love Mondays.

Serious. Love 'em.

Its the day both my kidlets are in school and TD&H is at work.

I like to call it my "Catch Up and Recover Day".
Not really, but I like the sound of it, I might call it that from now on.

Its pretty great to have a Monday flying solo. After the weekend, whether we have been running around being busy, social and fabulous, or we have stayed at home the whole time, lets face it - the house is a tip. And the fridge is empty. And the washing basket is overflowing AGAIN......
There is just something that makes it all OK when you know by 9.30 on Monday morning you have the quiet and the head space to carefully assess ground zero and then sit in your garden and get stuck into your coffee and blogging in Peace!!

Speaking of weekends, I have observed recently just how medicinal they can be.
We just had a weekend packed solid with friends, food, get-together's, gardening, sunshine, celebrations, and I just feel so damned energized from it all.
My poor kids had their eyes hanging out of their heads this morning, but we all had such a beautiful two days. It really is therapeutic to down tools and hang out.

Especially if you have a Seksy Solo Monday to catch up on all the other stuff.
Happy Monday to you all!!

Genius.... I say we should all do it!

Reality Check

I have noticed so many people writing about their miseries lately......

My iphone charger is broken....... grrrrrrrr!!!!

There wasn't enough sauce on my Subway today..... grrrrrrrrr!!!!

I had to wait three minutes for a cab this morning....... grrrrrrrrrr!!!!

I kicked my toe and my Manolo Blahnik got scuffed....... grrrrrr!!!

I say,  Dudes!!!!
You're lucky to have iphone chargers, sandwiches, cab money and fancy shoes.

Then I realized as annoying as those petty things are, I moan too. Quite a bit really....
About my housework, the washing, the kids, small wine glasses, TDH (tall dark and handsome), traffic, cooking dinner, being tired, dishes, the dog, the ducks, the weather..... and I say DUDE!!!
Get a grip!

And THEN I think: No, Frig it. I can moan. We all can. You know why? Cause shit happens.
You just have to be really careful to balance out your venting with Gratitude.
Why?
Firstly, cause it makes you less of a winger, secondly cause it creates Karmic balance and thirdly cause You Is Blessed, right?

Its the old adage of glass half full or half empty.
Your glass may be half empty (and believe me I feel your pain) or even three quarters empty, but surely, SURELY you got just a little dribble in that glass to drink (aka blessings to count)???

If all else fails, look someone you love in the eye - your kids if have some (even if they're being little turds) and just think about how lucky you are to have that person in your life.
 
Alternatively, think how good it would feel to kick them in the shins....;) Just THINK it, dont Do it.....

Merry Friday Peeps!!!

Thursday Giggle

 

LOL!! There is just something about the phrase 'Pie Hole' that gets me every time.... :)

Genuine Question for y'all.....

OK, so you know I struggle with the "domestic" side of the Stay at Home Mum gig a bit (like a one-legged trapeze act).
What I am wondering is, do you think my chores list for today is:

a) Normal
b) Lazy ass
c) Selfless and bordering on over-doing it.

Here it is:

*Make beds (I don't do this regularly but I'm toying with the idea it might help the place look tidier with minimum effort.)
*Empty all the inside bins (one can only put this off for so long....)
*One load of washing (cant commit to drying it or putting it away....)
*One medium size shopping trip (done that already!! :)))))

How does that compare with your average day of jobs?

Laughing makes Tuesdays go faster!!!

5 disturbing changes in me which may or may not have anything to do with Ageing...

The following points have come to my attention lately and I am concerned that they may put me into the category of "mumsie", "aged", "frumpy" or even worse "old"....

1. I hate clothes shopping.
   The equilibrium required for enjoying clothes shopping has been upset irreversibly upset for me.
   Its  a very delicate equation which I am sure you are aware of:
  
        QUIET + CONCENTRATION + SPECIAL OCCASION  + ME TIME
    > ANYONE NOTICING WHAT YOU'RE WEARING  X  FEELING SEXY
                           -------------------------------------------------------
        SPARE MONEY <  STOMACH NOT DESTROYED BY PREGNANCY

  = ENJOYMENT OF CLOTHES SHOPPING

   You see the constants and the variables are all buggered. (That's a mathematical term....)


2. I find myself enjoying a throw. You know the soft fluffy bits of pointless fabric you drape over chairs and beds? Only moments ago, I am sure I thought them dust collecting and contrived rubbish, now I am oddly drawn to their ability to add colour and texture..... I told you this was disturbing.

3. I own linen skirts and trousers, and yesterday, I IRONED some of these items.....

4. The youth of today deeply concern me. They are untidy and they think that's cool. They swear too much, their music is vile rubbish and they think the world owes them a favour. (I realize of course that this is a drastic generalization and I'm wondering whether this isn't another sign of potential old-ness....?) In my day we were never like that I can assure you.
 
5.  I have to keep asking my husband what year it is. And then we have wrinkled brow conversation where we hold up our thumb and fingers and glancing skyward have to count for a minute til we can agree. True story.


***Credit: that this post is inspired by my new FAVE blog The Domestic Project. Please check her out she is Hilarious and I want to be like her when I grow up.

A Lesson for my Children....

 

This is a lesson I really want to teach my children. I realize its a biggie, but I find it hard to think of a trait I find more important than kindness. I really believe that if you are kind you are almost certainly also thoughtful, empathetic and loving. Who doesn't want that for their kids?

Mr 3 and Miss 6 are still so young but in its simplest form this lesson can crop up in their lives every day.

I also believe it may end up being a good defense against bullying in the future.

 

I'd love to hear if you have a motto or a lesson you live by or try to impart to your kids, please feel free to share. x

Dont laugh...

Don't laugh peeps,but I am attempting, no, I am absolutely and successfully completing Ocsober.
So far its a breeze!
(Sorry? Whats the date?)
Anyway, if I am not seriously thin at the end of this "crazy social experiment" I am going to be one veeeeeery peeved mumma bear.
Wish me luck!

Lower your voice Dude!!!

So I was at the park yesterday, and my children as usual were behaving like angels and playing beautifully (!!!!!!)
No, they actually were, but there was one downer: three teenagers with skate boards and nothing to do but tip sticky fizzy drink all over the small children's' play equipment.
Worst of all they were swearing like sailors. Really swearing, all the worst words and really loud. My blood was understandably boiling. I literally had to bite my tongue.
 I know this will divide the crowd, and some would say I should have spoken up, but I know my husband would have told me to stay out of trouble just me against them with two small children in my care. They could have come back at me with all sorts of abuse and that would have upset my kids way more than rude words they didn't understand.

Anyway, Mr 3 announces that he wants to go on the swings - the same ones the teenagers were standing on and smoking.
So I said in a soft voice, "Lets just wait mate til those stupid idiots are off the swings..."
I know I shouldn't have said that but I was becoming quite furious.

A few minutes later, the teenagers abandon the swings and move on to the small children's climbing frame.
Mr 3 announces at FULL volume (delighted to use the S word) "Come on, those stupid idiots are off the swings now!"

Time stood still - what will unfold now I thought in slow motion......


Well, blow me down if those idiots didnt pick up their skateboards and bugger off!
I should have just set Mr 3 on them in the first place!

Flammable imagination....

I just cant get out of my head a picture of walking through the park on school holidays and small children combusting all over the place!! Evil, I know....

Aint that the truth!

Ha ha!
I look back and laugh at the pre-baby me (and everyone else - sorry) at how we think we have choices in rearing our children. And how we think we might get to exercise our principles on raising new humans, you know, impeccable manners, nutritious meals all day every day, strict sleep routines, washable nappies ( I know, mad right?), complete clarity on right and wrong, breast feeding, marriage survival, oh there are too many fables to mention....

YOU DONT MAKE THE DECISIONS YOU NAIVE CREATURE!

YOUR CHILDREN WILL IN FACT RAISE YOU TO BE THE PARENT THEY WANT YOU TO BE.....

Best way to survive this realization? Try not to remember all the ludi regimes and habits you were going to implement and get on with making toast with just-butter, and buying pre-packaged everything. Give yourself  a break and remember that kids are born into this world as humans with very strong wills and personalities of their own. They are not the blank little canvases baby books make you think they are.

Then one day, despite never feeling like you were getting it right.... the tantruming little cocoon will start to show signs of becoming a beautiful little butterfly, and you will realize that along with all the muddling and chaos and second-guessing, maybe, just maybe you did do something right even if you haven't spoken to them in Latin and fed them line-caught salmon, quinoa and organic spinach every day.... 

So there.... ;)

Decisions, decisions....

Help me out guys, I need a new handbag and these are the obvious two finalists... what do you reckon??

A gorgeous gift from a gorgeous friend

I got this book yesterday and have already cooked two dishes from it! I LOVE it. Could this be the trick to turn me into a domestic goddess???

I love these stick men, they wont let you not smile....

A Home Truth....

I love to observe how long my husband can stand and stare into the fridge when I have asked him to pass something out.... I say "love to" in the sense that it can actually reduce me to tears when, from the other side of the room, I can see the item on the top shelf, front and center and I have given him the location with the most specific co-ordinates (you know, in front of this, to the left of that...)

I have a theory hubby does it on purpose... possibly so I will stop requesting help with menial tasks.

Pleased to report that Mr 3 is looking to be developing the same sharpened sense of domestic savvy.

Mr 3: Where is my dinosaur?
Me: Its in the lounge room, on the big couch.
Mr 3: Where is the big couch?
Me: In the lounge room.
Mr 3: Where is the lounge room? (I am not making this up)
Me: (pointing) Right there in that room, where the couches are.
Mr 3: Couches?
Me: (trying not to cry) I'll get it for you.

I have a similar theory about my son.

How beautiful is this??

I am going to try and make this to hang in the vegetable garden. Another worthy distraction from housework..... ;)

Dont even TRY and read a book Mum...

An absolute truth for school holidays.

 

 

Holiday quiz....

Riddle me this Bat-Parents.....

How come children come home from school, often having had nothing but an ungrateful bite or two of sandwich, but on school holidays, its all, "Im hungry, I need something ELSE to eat.....Whats for lunch?.... What can I eat now?"

What the heck is that about hey?

Tired evening giggle....

You know you've married the right guy when you ask "Where is the plunger"??!!
And he passes you the lap top charger, which is actually what you were looking for....
Hmmmm.....

My final declaration in a day devoted to the anti-housework movement....

Give me a little thumb if you can guess the theme for today....

Theory of Housework......

This is my theory and I'm sticking to it.
I wonder how long I can ride the "It's ok to have a messy house when you have small children!" train???

I am trying to promote a few new snippets for when it becomes more obvious that my small children/messy house ratio is a little out of whack.

So, here we go, see if you can get these into wider circulation girls, it will benefit us all in the long run...

"It's ok to have a messy house when you're writing such a socially vital blog!"
"It's ok to have a messy house when your children are still living at home!"
"It's ok to have a messy house when you have obviously been working so hard on your tan!"

On the flip side I bought myself a new mop the other day. (On my birthday actually........)
And its so lovely and shiny new, it would be a shame to dirty it up by removing the protective plastic and getting it wet. ;)

Kids say the darndest things...

My favourite question of the week....

Mr 3: Mum, why do some roads and footpaths come to an end?
Me: (inner monologue) Whoa mumma, I am so not qualified to raise children.....


My favourite piece of wisdom for the week....

Miss 6: Hey Mum, did you know that lions and tigers have to Prey for their food?
Me: (inner monologue) Whoa, baby that is the cutest thing ever.

Geddit? Prey? Pray?
Hubby said "I hope you set her straight."
Me: "No way, too cute."

The sacrifice I am willing to make for this Blog...

The Great Happiness Hunt.....

Some days I dont write my blog because I have nothing interesting or amusing to say. I am kind of creatively flat lining.
Its the Blog version of a "duvet day."
Have you heard about those? Apparently in some parts of America, you get a quota of days called "duvet days". They aren't holiday, and they aren't sick days. They are days where you can wake up (probably on a Monday) and be completely honest with your boss and say "You know, I really don't fancy it today, I'm gonna give it a miss if you don't mind, and stay in bed today. Cheers. See you tomorrow."

I'm not sure what the purpose is exactly but they're freakin' genius. And I fully enforce them on my blog staff. (Thats just me, by the way.) I dont want the blog to feel like work, I want to continue enjoying her, I love her.( Although I DO want the blog to feel like work in that I could get paid to do it..... )

Some days I am so inspired by the ride I am taking with my children, I have to share. Hopefully you agree that they are both amusing and poignant at times. (If you dont agree, then please refer to yesterday's blog about being Wrong.)

Some days I just feel good and want to amuse my readers. Although having just tapered off my happy pills, who knows when that will happen again...

But SOMETIMES..... I read or hear something that tickles my silly bone.
Thats not a funny bone - different altogether.
My silly bone is the one that niggles me when I get wind of something I think is Silly. Or sometimes Stupid. Or Bonkers, or just plain Easy to Ridicule.

I have taken inspiration from this category today.
I was at the hairdressers today (thats not the silly part), and I read about The Happiness Project.
Now, I do realize that  according to the sales figures of this book, I am probably the only person in the world who hasn't read it.
And it is this barely-informed position from which I speak to you today.

The western world's obsession with being happy. Apparently it is something we all cant do without being told how.
The woman who started this "project" (I think she was also behind selling bottled air and the ab cruncher) is apparently an expert on 'the lessons from popular culture on how to be happy'. The journalist who wrote the article I read said "it feels like she is shaking her cheer-leading pom poms at your soul"...... Uh-huh. Right.
See the problem there is that wouldn't make me feel happy, it would make me feel irritated.
Do you know what else makes me feel irritated? Teaching people how to suck eggs.

Have we really come to this?
I know there have been 'Happiness' books around forever, (like since the 50's when women were allowed to have feelings coincidentally...) but apparently this isnt just a book - its a MOVEMENT.
GIVE. ME. STRENGTH.
To buy into this you would first need to believe that you are miserable. Well you wouldnt buy the damn book if you were allowing yourself to think you might already BE happy right?

Now, I am no expert on..... well, anything really, but I will tell you this
FOR FREE:
The secret to Happiness:
Work reeeeeeally hard at obtaining happiness, read sooooo many books on being happy, take yourself sooooo seriously that eventually you laugh.
When you get to the point at laughing at how ridiculous the Great Search for Happiness is, a cork will pop out of your ass and you stop believing the B.S. about how un-happy you are and how empty your life is and how you don't have enough money, time or possessions, and Ta-Daaaaa. You're Happy.

My advice for when you FORGET to be happy: go somewhere you can hear the birds singing, pour yourself a splendid glass of wine and count your blessings.
But please, PLEASE don't propel these potion-selling A-holes to the top of the NY times best-sellers list.
They should all take A LOT of duvet days and leave us all alone.

Sitting in Wrongness....

Oh my goodness, I laughed and laughed when I saw this.

My daughter Miss 6 complained to me the other day that Mr3 "thinks he's a grown up and thinks he knows everything!!!"
Well, for those of you who know my daughter, you'll be laughing now too.
And for those of you who don't, you should understand that she is a fourth generation Olympic world champion, unrivaled, tiara and sash wearing KNOW IT ALL of significant note.

My Nan tells me that I was the same (as if) and if I didn't know the answer to something then I simply made some shit up. But the words 'I don't know' just NEVER came out of my mouth.
I am pleased to say that obviously I have grown and matured and now I am happy to admit when I am wrong and to sit in my wrongess and be wrong.

It just hardly ever happens, that's all. ;)

Evidence Based Suspicion

Ok, I am sure that on more than one occasion, all mothers who spend extended periods alone with small children have felt they might possibly, probably, definitely be losing their minds. Sometimes it is just fleeting wisp of a thought but sometimes one finds oneself holding ones head in both hands and begging quietly for mercy....

Let me share with you my latest piece of evidence in the case of 'The Suspicion of the Lost Mind'.

It was a beautiful, sunny Spring morning. Mr 3 and I were at the park, side by side on the swings....
Me: Hey look, that man has heaps of dogs.
Mr 3: Where?
Me: Just there behind our car, wait a sec, you'll see him.
Mr 3: Where?
Me: There, next to our car.
Mr 3: Where?
Me: (wishing I had never bothered) Bud! Right there! Can you see our car? (pointing about 10 metres away)
Mr 3: Oh. Yeah.......... How many has he got?
Me: Three.
Mr3: Oh. Yeah............. Is that heaps?
Me: Well I think its quite alot.
Mr 3: It isnt.
Me: (stupidly soldiering on) He must really love dogs.
Mr 3: Why does he have so many dogs?
Me: I think he must really like dogs. (I had by this stage figured out that the dogs were from the dog refuge and were being walked by a volunteer, but I thought better of opening up that mind boggling  can of worms...)
 Mr 3: Orrrrrrrr..... maybe he really loved dogs when he was a little boy, and now he really doesn't like them, but he is taking them to his space ship!................... Mum?
Me: uh-huh.
Mr 3: Yes?
Me: yep
Mr 3: Yes?
Me: ok, bud!
Mr 3: Yes, Mum?
Me: Yes! Thats probably what it is mate..... (understandably defeated)
Mr 3: What did you say? Mum? Mum? What did you say? Mum?
Me: (through the tears) Lets go on the monkey bars.....

So you see your Honour, I have never really had a fighting chance of keeping hold of my Mind.
I am pushed and pulled and played-with and defeated at every turn.
 Being subjected to the evil genius that is the three-year-old mind for 8-10 hours a day, day after day could crush even the strongest resolution to stay sane.
Bless his cruel little heart.

Crafty Corner......

So, I made a couple of these for my kids for Christmas. I adapted the idea from somethig I saw at Howards Storage World. In my own typical fashion I went in to buy the things from the shop and they had of course sold out. This didnt really frazzle me as it happens to me ALL THE TIME. All part of being insanely indecisive when shopping....

Just in case you like the look of this I will talk you through the steps I took to make it. Of course, you could probably figure it out for yourself, but in the name of BLOGGING, I will pretend it was wildly difficult and explain it for you:

I bought the lazy-susan's in BigW, but they also have them at IKEA for the same price. They are made of bamboo. I think you can get them at Target in USA too.

The little buckets are from a hardware store, (I used little mesh metal pen holder cups for my daughter's one) you could use anything really but make sure they will fit on the lazy-susan in the configuration you want.

I used self adhesive velcro squares from hardware store to attatch buckets to susan. Although I didnt think of this at the time, but there are two good reasons for using velcro: you can take the buckets off to clean when someone spills a drink all over the whole thing, and also the kids will try spinning it at top speed, so anchoring is important.

I filled the containers with textas, pencils, mini-post-its. mini-stapler, paper clips, scissors, glue sticks, glitter pens etc. They love them, and they look really cute on their desks.
 
Word of Warning: as I said, I gave them to my kid's for Christmas and although they do love them now, there was some degree of confusion and disappointment on Christmas morning. Fair enough I suppose, they are sort of glorified pencil cases.... Happy crafting!

Game of Hats

One of the many hats I wear in the average day as a mother of two is that of a referee.

Its not my favourite hat. I much prefer the "having-a-great-time-baking-with-the-kids hat", (as opposed to the "why-the eff-do-I-persist-in-this-bloody-buggery-baking-nonsense hat"), or the "sitting-gracefully-in-the-sunny-garden-while-the-children-amuse-themselves hat".

But today, after school pick-up and both children were hysterical with exhaustion, I had to don my "referee" hat. Sometimes when I have to referee a game of 'Mutual Sibling Irritation' while I am driving, I have to cut straight to the big guns: threats, promises (not the good kind), round the back of the seat slaps which invariably miss the legs they're meant for, and of course my least favourite: shouting like a crazy lady.

So, today I was going through phase one of Back Seat Battle: you know, the phase where you dont actually pay any attention to the grievance and dish out a few "stop-that's" and cut-it-out's".
All of a sudden I have a Mr 3 going from zero to FREAK OUT!
"WHAT." I bark, "IS GOING ON??" (As though I wasn't in the car the whole time.)
"She wont LOOK!" shouts Mr 3.
Miss 6 is now giggling which of course infuriates Mr 3 even further.
"LOOK!"
"NO!"
"LOOK!"
"NO!"
"LOOK!"
"NO!"
"MUUUUUUUUUUUUM SHE WONT LOOK!"

Now, its a matter of survival to work these coded melt-downs out quick as you can....
 And so fairly suddenly I find myself having a first time experience: I am refereeing a game of  'Made You Look You Dirty Chook'.

If you haven't had this surreal experience, I highly recommend you keep you eye open for the opportunity. First, there is such a small repertoire of appropriate commands which one can issue to fix the situation. All I could think of was.... "Just Look Will You!" It really stretches your refereeing skills.

Well that was the end of me.
I could hardly see the road for the tears of laughter. Miss 6 had robbed Mr 3 of his big chance to declare her a chook...... What was I supposed to do? It was a Mummy-Refereeing dead end. I did feel sorry for him but in the grand scheme of things, what was the lesson I was supposed to impart on Miss 6? Just let him call you a chook, its good for his self esteem????

Very silly. And very jolly that a run-of-the-mill round of Mutual Sibling Irritation turned into the three of us racing for the loo, crying with laughter. Thanks Kids, you rock.

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha.......

The Greatest Survival Skill Known to Human Kind

You know when you're a fabulous young thing? You have a waist, minimum effort at uni produces passing results, you can go out all night and get up still looking your age. The world just seems to keep your cup full. I look back at myself and think wow, youth really is wasted on the young.

So I realize as I look back over the last seven years or so that I may have traded off a few things: energy, sleep-in's, the ability to stay awake past 10pm, energy, the skill to contribute to interesting conversation, nice skin, new clothes and my waist..... But I have gained the greatest skill of all human skills (besides pushing a living human being out of a keyhole...) I Can Multi-Task like a Mother Fucker!!!!

And this, my friends, is what surviving families in the modern era are built upon. Not to overstate the fact, but a mother who can mutli-task is the difference between the survival of her family and her sanity, and the alternative... (wine for breakfast.)

These are the facts to hand, as I have self-studied over the past few days:

1. If you cannot tie the kids' shoe laces and go to the toliet simultaneously, you WILL NOT get out the door on time in the morning.

2. If you cannot wash the dog who is desperately trying to escape and untangle your young son from a long piece of rope wrapped about his person at the same time, someone WILL GET INJURED.

3. If you cannot listen to both children and the traffic report on the radio simultaneously, you will drive into road works and you WILL NOT make it to assembly on time.

4. If you cannot make 5 rounds of sandwiches, police the eating of cornflakes and drink your coffee at the same time, someone will MISS A NUTRITIOUS MEAL.

5. If you cannot ponytail your daughter and brush your teeth simultaneously, you're a BEGINNER!

6. If you cannot talk on the phone in your lap, drive the car, tune the radio and break up a fight in the back seat, you are a DANGER on the road. FOCUS!

7. If you cannot cook dinner, bath the kids, empty the garbage bins, lock away the pet ducks, feed the dog, top up your wine glass, listen to husband, and check facebook all at the same time, then GOOD LUCK to you.

Big salute to all the Mummies out there who are making it all look so easy but who are paddling like hell under the water. Respect.

Mum's Birthday

So, today's a bit of a tough one if I'm completely honest.
Today is my mum's birthday.
Or it would have been, she would have been 68.

My beautiful Mum left this world nearly 17 months ago. And the hole she left isn't getting any smaller. In fact on dates-of-note, its a big old gaping hole of sadness, and memories, and loneliness.

I think being a not-very-old mum myself when she passed away, it really pulled the rug out from under me. I never really realized how constantly she was holding my hand. No matter how far apart we lived, I could always pick up the phone and just double check her opinion on the kids cough, or the recipe for bologniase, or the score on the footy. (Or the spelling for bolognase....??)

My mum was no bridge-playing, grey-haired knitter. No sir, she was no gentle granny who baked apple pie's. My mum was a champagne loving, trivia addict with a penchant for perfection and the life of the party. She was completely unique, and she thought everything my sister and I did was fantastic. She never missed an opportunity to tell us how proud she was. She loved her family with all her heart and its really really conspicuous that she is gone.

I know there are a bunch of us feeling fragile about Robyn today, but I thought it better to give her a place and celebrate her today, cause she only LOVED a celebration! She'd be ironing the linen napkins as we speak... So raise a glass for my mum, or your mum today and do what you can to avoid the big C, cause it is a right Fucker.

Love you Ma.

Time Saving Tips for a more Effcient Home... ;)

1. You don't need to waste time screwing the lid on the milk bottle, simply balance the lid on top and issue a hard downward motion blow.

2.  Mop your floors fortnightly: thats half as much time spent compared to mopping weekly!

3. Source a husband who doesn't give a fig if his shirts are ironed or not.

4. Problem: unsightly, messy kitchen cupboards? Solution: shut the doors. That's what they're for after all!

5. Don't waste precious time looking for that illusive hair brush, just brush your daughter's hair with a plastic fork - my husband ACTUALLY did this.

6. Save time for your kids, your husband and your dog by not bothering to close the door when you're having a bit of quiet on the toilet.

7. To save shoe leather, make your first glass of wine a LARGE.

HAPPY FRIDAY EVERYONE!!

Different Strokes (of the feather duster....)

So I found this blog today, called 'The Organized Housewife'.
Can you see my face?

Reading it was like a train crash, I just couldn't look away. I was at once fascinated and repulsed. Its like a freak show. And I say that, not because I think the writer is a freak, but because it just takes a concept I already find overwhelming and puts a whole new high-speed, foreign language spin on it. I felt like I was in the trading room on Wall St, and all the traders were actually housewives screaming and signalling about cupboard organization and pantry labeling and decluttering detail.... Did I miss something? A class? A lecture? An information pamphlet? 

Seriously, I readily admit, these are skills and talents, but I just cant. Or don't. Or wont? Its not like it could be genetic, my mum was the tidiest, most organized woman you ever met. I actually - all kidding aside - long to be organized. Tidy. House Proud. Prepared. I think this Organized Housewife creature is a genius. My only jibe, if I had to have one (and I do) would be that she keeps cake packet mix's "for emergencies".... I'm sorry, but in my world a cake emergency is not an emergency. But that's why I'm not an Organized Housewife I guess...

Maybe it just takes the pressure off , you know, no one turn up to my place and expects a freshly baked cake. They will get conversation, hugs, tissues, advice, friendship, laughs and plenty of tea, but hardly ever cake, packet mix, or otherwise. Being out of control all the time is being consistent - I'm maintaining a constantly low standard of chaos, or should that be high standard of chaos?

My kids were telling my husband the other day that on Friday's we always seem to get to school on time and have a relaxed kind of vibe in the mornings, to which husband replied "that's cause by Friday, Mummy has the hang of the week".... So I guess my family don't know any different, they just know me. And my heart full of chaos. Poor buggers. They will never know a Mum who can match up socks, file the rubbish or frame every drawing the kids scribble for the family room gallery.

Guilty admission: I tidied up my plastics cupboard this afternoon. Then I turned my attention to the pantry and after surveying the eight half-packets of pasta, I suddenly had a thought: I'm bored but I'm not that bored....

The Ten Year Marathon

So as I stand here on my tenth wedding anniversary, I think back to the young, naive 24 year old bride, and know with absolute certainty that she was so completely uncertain about ever making it to the ten year mark. Not because I doubted my husband or the marriage, purely because the chances of making it work and not ending in disaster are a harsh reality. We were so young and spontaneous, but we knew we had to try, just in case it might just happen turn out to be what we thought it might be...

We were living in London in a big rambling house with a bunch of fabulous young travellers and we were living the life of Riley. We have such incredible memories from those days. We had a gorgeous, simple celebration on the Thames and as the cliche goes, it was the happiest day of my life.

Apparently we had a 64% chance of remaining married for ten years. That dropped to 34% when we had children. I think my husband and I will confirm these stats seem fair and accurate.

Three of our good friends are tying the knot this month, and my wish for you all is that you roll up those statistics and smoke 'em. Our love and very best wishes to you, I look forward to the conversations we have on your tenth and out TWENTIETH anniversaries!

My overwhelming feeling springing from this anniversary? Pride.
I am so proud of the journey we have taken so far, the friendship we have built, the family we have produced, the odds we have overcome, the great times, the rough times and the couple we are today. Strong and together. It wasn't easy. In-fact, I would liken ten years of marriage to completing a marathon with both legs tied behind your back. But with your best friend by your side.

I know that those who have been together for 25 or 30 years will say, oh, ten years is just the beginning... and I hope it is.

Felling very proud of us, love you babe. x x x x

The things you do for your Kids...

My cousin (childless at the time) once asked me "What is it with the hundreds of people queuing up for hours in the sun to go on the Ferris wheel?

"They all have kids" I pointed out, "they're doing it for the kids."
"What? But why? They're all insane!" she said.

And I found it really hard to explain, because I could totally see her point, but I had many time been one of those insane morons in the queue.
Honestly, the lengths you'll go to to make little Timmy laugh or pee his pants with excitement is daft isn't it? But its this mad gene that lays dormant until you have kids...

Some people (not me, but some people) take whole holidays centred around their little darlings. They queue up for fairy floss and face painting and even the CIRCUS!
Public pools - would you be there without the kids? Nope.
How about a mega spinning hurricane ride just for fun? Not on your life.

So what are we thinking the whole time we're doing these mad things? We're not thinking anything.
We're watching their little faces light up and holding their little sick bags, and taking turns at lining up in 40 degree heat to get the prize!!
Because its Nature's way of forcing us into make awesome memory's for our children.
Hell, we even go to cafe's with really bad coffee because they have great toys there! Thats the kind of weirdness I am taking about. Inflicted selflessness.

Well its book week at school, and my little princess, Miss 6, wants to be Alice.
You know the hardest characters are the ones with very distinctive uniforms. Have you ever seen Alice change outfits? NEVER. So, a blue dress in a very specific shade, white apron, bow, tights and black shoes it is. Right then.....

Remember that gene I was talking about??
So my task today is to get out my sew-y thing and the skirty bits and go waaaaaaaay beyond my skill set, to make my baby feel special and beautiful for the book parade tomorrow.
And I know that child-pleasing gene has kicked in cause I am really looking forward to finishing it  and seeing her try it on.
And, lets face it, probably fall in to floods of giant Alice sized tears because 'Its Not Riiiiiiiight!!!!!!!"
sigh

Spending time with Mr 3

So I spent the day with my three year old son today.
That's nothing new in itself, after all I am a stay at home mum (SAHM if youre into wanky talk).
But since I have started my life-style makeover (thats better than midlife crisis, dont you think?), I thought I would come at my son-time from a different angle too...

We were driving back from dropping my daughter at school, and I realized what a completely gorgeous day it was, I was scheduled to go to the gym, but, well, um, I didnt. So the boy and I packed a morning tea and drove a pretty long distance to his favourite park. If you know me well, you will understand that, it being magpie swooping season, I really meant business, we were going to have fun damn it!
Now, I take the kids to the park a few times a week, and lets face it, kids like it but its fairly... under-stimulating if your kids just bolt off and play together, which mine do. Today, I decided to really get in and focus on what Mr 3 wanted to do, and we had the Best Time. I watched him climb with all the confidence of his alter-ego Spider Man, we played chase, hide and seek and I pushed him on the swing about six million times... and it was FUN! Why was it different today? Because I was mindful of where I was and what I was doing. I didnt look at my watch, or phone, I didnt think about housework or reading my book, or having a nap... I dont know if the grass was greener over there, cause I didnt bother to look around.
I know that I am not the only one, so lets be brutally honest, three year old boys who talk tirelessly all day long, mostly about super hero's, blowing things up and smashing things til they're dead, are pretty boring. Yes I said it, they are eye wateringly tiresome more than half of the time. Anyone who isnt a Stay at Home Mum, or isnt one any more, will find that shocking, and bad-motherly. But its bloody true. Having said that, I have to tell you what I learned from my exercise this morning: my son is so funny, so charming, so fearless, so imaginative and such good company; all I had to do to see it was get down to his level and just enjoy him. You can get too much of a good thing being a Stay At Home Mum, sometimes you forget to stop and smell the preschooler.

I know I am blessed to be able to stay at home, sure we go without some stuff having only one income, and my husband has never tried to force me back to work. In-fact if I think back real far and squint my eyes, I think this is actually what I wanted. I have made a mental note to stop when Mr 3 is shitting me, and get down to his level, and rediscover our fun selves. He probably spends his quiet times thinking what an irritating bore I am with my constant cleaning, running errands, moaning and cooking, but today, I have been the very embodiment of a Fun Mum. We washed the car together when we got home, which was really enjoyable too, but after 20 minutes of playing 'trains', I had to draw the line and retire Fun Mum, because no matter how hard I might try, playing 'trains' makes hanging the washing seem like Carnivale....

Renovation segment

We love a spot of renovation and restoration 'round here. Well, I do and hubby good-naturedly gets on board with most projects. This is one of our best. It is an old family dining table we overhauled by painstakingly removing all the dark shellac and sanding it back to the beautiful blonde hoop pine colour. I wont show you how it looks now, 8 months on, suffice to say, it is being very well loved and is showing the scars.

A Heart Full of Chaos: Stuff is Nonsense

A Heart Full of Chaos: Stuff is Nonsense: I really got to a desperate place this week (and, let's face it, every week) with housework and the general state of tidiness within my home...

Stuff is Nonsense

I really got to a desperate place this week (and, let's face it, every week) with housework and the general state of tidiness within my home.

So, did I get stuck in to the hoovering, mopping, washing, dusting, tidying and folding?
Nup, I sat down to read up on how a Buddhist would deal with this chaos. Yes, I'll admit I was hoping to discover some ancient, deeply spiritual method to keeping tidy besides the conventional practical one which, frankly bores the pants off me.

The first thing I read were the four pillars or Noble Truths of Buddhism: if you dont already know, they are four different versions of suffering. Hang on, I thought, I'm on to something here, and I read on...
The whole idea is to view the world as it really is. Yes, I can see the mess in the kitchen for what it is, Check.
Buddhists dont deny the concept of pleasure, but acknowledge it as fleeting. Oh, right, like the 30 seconds the house stays tidy after I've cleaned it! Check.
The same logic belies the understanding of happiness: that only ageing, sickness and death are certainties in the end. YES! That's how I feel about that huge pile of washing: old, sick and like dying!

I'll paraphrase what I learned about Buddhism and Karma: bad actions bring about unhappiness.
I think I've cracked it... housework makes me sad so it MUST be a bad action!
Neutral actions such as sleeping, eating and breathing have no karmic benefit or cost - that sounds the safest doesn't it? 

To cross over spiritual genres for a minute: I hear alot that in Feng Shui, the belief is that one cannot have clear thoughts and energy in amongst clutter. Aint that the truth. Back to our buddhist friends:
Let us say that a Buddhist monk is our best example of someone who never trips over wet towels, injure his feet on lego, or run out of clean tea cups. Why? Because he doesnt have any superfluous crap lying around! He doesnt have piles of stuff or loads of junk! In fact, he doesn't have any crap, stuff or junk at all!

So, if I am to become the embodiment of a Zen Mumma as well as not have to tidy up so much, I need alot less stuff. Well, my husband and kids do. All of my belongings are meager and vital - obviously.
Thanks Buddha! A jolly good clear up and chuck-out is what's in order. I'll get right to it. I just feel I should show my appreciation with an hour of yoga and meditation, and a karma-neutral cup of tea first.

Being a "Writer"

I was reading up this morning on the finer points of being a writer. One of the first things I read was "We must write from Love...."
Oh for shit's sake, I thought.
But then I read on: "...the Love of naming our experiences."
Oh, I thought, cool, I love analyzing the hell out of things. Sweet, I'm half way there! This writing caper's not so hard!

The awesome, hilarious and now dead writer David Rakoff said that some days his computer sat on his desk gagging and gasping like a child dying from an infection, and just couldn't motivate himself to administer the anti-biotic. Now, I realize how morose that sounds, but I think was talking about writers block. I am pleased to report that five days into my diary bloggy thingy, I think I am suffering more from diarrhea than constipation. I am finding it very therapeutic to jot down some of the chaos in my head. I always thought bloggy people were very self-indulgent thinking that folk would want to read their spurtings. And while I still think that, I dont minding admitting I love reading them, and now, I love writing one.

Hey! have I found a new purpose?????
No, its not really purposeful to anyone but me is it?
And the big question, who AM I anyway?
Naaaah, just kidding.
Laters. x x x

An Idea

Thinking about a warts n all, straight from the heart account of a day in the life of a woman turned mother with a heart full of love and a head full of FAAAAAARK!!!!!!!
It could even include my secret weapon for survival in moment when I might otherwise throw an appliance.... hmmmmm...

The amazing Leigh Viner - so talented

Well, one should look after one's self...

Looking for Inspiration

Since I decided to do something about my early mid-life crisis, I have noticed that the more I look around me to find what it is that inspires me, the more inspiration I can see.

It's like I had my head in the proverbial sand (geez doesn't that sound relaxing - a quiet minute in the sand, sigh) and I couldn't see all the amazing things going on that totally make you think, 'Wow, thats amazing'!

 My beautiful sister and I went to see a show on Saturday night. Not just any show mind you, Chorus Line. I know, can you believe it??!! I nearly wet myself, I was so excited. You see, we grew up watching the movie, and I kid you not, we can quote every single word in every single scene, bar none. At one point in the live show, one of the characters said the word "all" instead of the word "oh".... and my sister and I gasped audibly, wide eyed. So you get the idea how well we know this show. Anyway I'll get to the point. In the show, there is a song "What I did for Love" and its all about these dancers who are unemployed, and desperate to get a part in a new show. They basically talk about how they cant imagine doing anything else even though they rarely have work or money and just keep at it because it defines everything they are passionate about. They dance because that's what really rings their bell. You see where I'm going with this?

Whats really ringing my bell is the idea that people get up and make their dreams happen. I am looking right at the very people who are getting up on various mornings and deciding to walk the walk, get stuff done. Starting the training required to become a yoga teacher, grabbing a partner and opening a real life salon, doing work for free until they get recognized and paid real money. These are people who are doing it for love. I cant explain how inspiring I find that. Real people doing real cool things. I heard an old hippy say today, "sometimes you can't put it in the bank, you have to bank it in your heart."

Well, obviously he was stoned, but we all dream of making a living doing something that doesn't feel like real work, or that we know is making a real difference. Can I grow up to be one of those people? Shit, I hope so.

Sunday night dinner

How hard is it to be bothered on Sunday nights?!
I know the Sunday roast is traditional, but if I was running a traditional household, I wouldn't be so bloody chaotic would I?
Its 6pm and I still am not sure what we are having for dinner.... that's bad isn't it?

My plan was:
Crumbed fish, mashed potatoes and vegetables for the kids
Lamb neck stew in slow cooker for the old boy
Tuna salad for me

Whats actually coming our of the kitchen tonight:
Pasta with vegetable sauce from the freezer for kids
Pesto pasta for the old boy
An orange for me

There we are, that's the menu planning segment of the day done. Tick.
By the way, yes I really do cook three different meals a night.... I know, I know....

Top 10 pieces of advice I have been given

1. If you dont laugh, you cry. (my sister Kate)

2. Red wine gets rid of the headache cause by too much coffee. (my sister Anna)

3. Just be Chris. (my Mum)

4. Say "Goodbye and I love you" to your husband in the birthing suite, and you can say "hello old friend" in about five years time. (no one actually said this to me but they f*#ing should have!)

5. If you do your washing on a cold, 15 minute express wash and the washing powder doesnt go in, you cant really call that clean, and probably you should do it again. (my sister Kate)

6. Have loads of sex. (wedding day advice from a family member who shall remain nameless)

7. Do you want to be right? Or do you want to be happy? (Dr. Phil - shut up, I love Dr Phil!)

8. Dont forget to Breathe! (best labour advice ever from my friend Gail A)

9. I'm not sure making your own wedding cake is a very good idea, Chris. You dont know how to bake and you dont have any time.... (right again Mum!)

10. If you build it, he will come..... oh no wait.....

A Heart Full of Gratitude

So I've woken up this morning feeling a little bit soppy.

My little fella crawled into bed with me this morning (at a reasonable hour) and I had a moment where I thought, geez I'm lucky. So lucky to be squashed in amongst snoring, slightly overheated bodies with not quite enough blanket. Then I realised its Saturday! Yay! Then my little fella started to winge at me to get up RIGHT NOW and get him some warm Milo NOOOOOW and my bubble burst a little bit....

But I digress.

Of course we all feel a little bit full of love when you wake up and its sunny, and its Saturday, but thats not what has me counting blessings this morning. Last night I had a rare and wonderful night with The Girls. These nights don't happen often enough any more, that just comes with the Motherhood territory as you probably know. The gathering of five beautiful friends started, as is often the case, with a little war-weary sighing about the week, there had obviously been some tears, some ups and some downs going on since our last get together. The range of topics we get to cover in these rare gatherings would truly astound standers by, we can fling from sandwich fillings, to Cesarian scars and back to soccer and sex before the first glass of bubbly is down the hatch. (Soccer and sex NOT being in the same conversation.) After about three hours of non-stop, overlapping chin wagging and glass draining, I stood back and thought Shit. I'm lucky. So lucky to have friends that feel like family. When you can start a sentence with "would you be worried if...?", "do you think its weird that..." and know that your deepest worries and life dramas can be wrapped, stamped and posted while your glass is being refilled and all of a sudden you feel better, you know you have friends as family. See? Lucky.

Then it got me thinking of all the amazing friends who are so far away, and instead of feeling sorry for myself, I felt grateful that no matter how long it goes sometimes, you can still flick off a quick "you rock, girlfriend" text and they are back in your heart and in your thoughts. See, I told you - soppy.

So you see, bucketful's of laughter and champers have me feeling pretty Saturday-ish this morning, I am even grateful for the sinkful of dishes, cause it represents the food we ate last night, which, however lower-deck (fish fingers!), remind me of what we have when others go hungry. See? grateful. And maybe still a little tipsy......! ;)

Its an awesome day to have an awesome day!!! Ok, now i may have gone too far....

This is me! (but not in trakkies)

Junction Town, no trains in sight....

I was thinking about starting a blog called "Completely Bored out of my Skull", but then I thought that might sound a little bit negative.

You see, I'm at a junction in my life, I know I'm not alone, there are plenty of us here (hello girls!). We've had out baby's and made grand declarations that the shop is shut and there will be no more. Said baby's have started school and preschool and we FINALLY have the longed-for time off we have angst-ed for. Long days of luxurious quiet: massages, afternoon naps, a spotless house, hobbies, perhaps a lovely little part-time job, a knock-out figure from diligently attending gym....

Well I dont know if its just too much of a good thing, but, all of the above has gotten a bit boring really. And I have never even had ONE massage. Or attained that dream figure. As for spotless and house going together.... AND the "day" that exists between school drop-off and pick-up isnt really even a DAY!!!

And Breathe......

So, the long and the short of it, I suppose, is I feel like I dont really have a purpose any more. I'm a bit of a shell. A shell with no brain. Its time for the next phase and and its pretty scary. Well for me it is anyway... plenty of women skate elegantly from breastfeeding to business ownership without chipping a nail. And plenty of others keep having more baby's and are endlessly gracious and fulfilled, and organized and non-chaotic, and well, grown up. I am not any of those women. There seems to be a fine line between grasping this amazing opportunity for a new start and really doing something meaningful; and applying for a shelf packing job at Bi-Lo. When all is said and done, Bi-Lo pays and I will meet people over the age of 6, and its better than sitting around moaning about being bored... right?

Dont get me wrong - dishes and washing and mopping and more dishes are all stimulating as hell, it just feels like it's time. For what? Dont ask stupid questions, I've got dishes to do.

Hello.... hello? testing testing.... welcome!