Saturday 9 November 2013

What Christmas means for me.

I love the family time;
I love giving gifts and seeing the look on their face when I've nailed it;
I love the surprise of said gifts;
I love using it as a chance to spoil my mum;
It's a chance to say thank you to all the people that have helped you in the year;
Being an annual event, I love looking back on the photos and hand made craft from the Christmas before, and all the memories that come with it;
I love the food, come on let's face it, Christmas food is the fucking bomb! Triffle, roasts, Christmas pudding, home made custard, potato salad. My mum makes it all, and I looooove when we all get in the kitchen, bitch about being under each others feet, laugh when one of us cuts or stabs ourselves, argue about who gets the left overs, and since having kids, they have renewed the Christmas Eve joy, and the Christmas Morning excitement. 

I am not religious, like at all, so it's not that for me, but for those that are, it's a chance to give thanks and celebrate the life of someone they respect and love. For those that aren't particularly religious through the year, they take the opportunity to attend Christmas Mass, have their annual check in maybe? 

Anyway, so many people say it's too commercialised, there is too much focus on the presents, that they spend too much, it's annoying to try and fit in visits to or from all the family, blah blah blah.

Yes stores and organisations take full advantage of the silly season, but when don't they? 
The focus by others may be on presents, but I control what is seen, heard and done in my house, and I choose NOT to focus on the presents. 
Spend too much? Well don't. I may love giving gifts, but a great gift doesn't come with a huge price tag. Set a budget, you're the one that buys, so just don't spend the stupid damn amounts of money. 
Be thankful you have family to visit! Take advantage of Christmas Eve, and Boxing day, spread it out, make it fun, or better yet, make them all come to you and tell them to bring wine. 

Just like anything in this world, Christmas is what you make it. You focus on presents and the money, that's what it will be about, but I choose to focus on the pure joy, the wonder, and the fun (and the food). 


Fuck yes my Christmas stuff is out already!

Monday 4 November 2013

Step-ford Wife, Magazine Mum, and Keeping up with the Joneses

The other week I had a bit of a mini breakdown in a mums group on facebook. I was stressed and disappointed in myself, I was comparing myself to other people and families, and I just wasn't feeling together. I felt like I was failing at this life thing, and I was placing expectations on myself that, in reality, were fucking shit.

Over the weekend, I had an epiphany ..... 

I am not perfect and I don't WANT to be perfect.  

My house will never be a show home, but it is a home. It is a place where my girls are always safe, always loved, where play is encouraged and we learn about each other every day. I like my home, yes it could be neater, and yes I definitely could be better at maintaining the yard, but I like it. 
There is texta drawings on my dining table (yes, the actual table, who needs paper hey Miss G?) and my desk (*sigh*); finger smudges on the tv, glass doors, windows, pretty much every surface; there are clean clothes still unfolded in the baskets; and don't worry, the toilet paper all over the floor isn't used, Miss O just like to carry rolls around and spread it like confetti. 

Lisa over at Two Point Five Kids gets it. She wrote this blog today, and I'm guessing that part (a small part) of her inspiration was my vent in the mums group, and the loooong list of women that were feeling exactly the same way as me. 
If you follow me on my Facebook page or Instagram (@amindunstable) you would have seen the photos I share, and know that I post it as it is. 

I am still struggling with the daily juggle of house work, single mum, work from home business, being a friend, getting to exercise, eating healthy ... but, I've lowered my expectation of myself. 

Yes, LOWERED, *gasp*

So this morning I started my week with these new expectations in mind, and guess what? I got shit done, probably more than usual, because I didn't expect myself to do it all. 

I've viewed 2 rental units for Mr Ex; socialised a bit (face to face with a real person!); nearly completed an order; sorted a basket of washing (and it is all still sitting on my bed); tidied the playroom and lounge as well as the cube bookshelf unit that collects endless piles of junk; put on a load of washing (and then fished out the new Peppa Pig pj's and put them in the dryer, Miss G is going to LOVE me!); had dinner cooked by 4.30pm; and now I'm writing this blog and eating the last of the cinnamon and apple yogurt (sorry kids). 

Yeah, today wasn't a failure, and neither am I. 



Kitchen bench on a normal day here

This is tidy! 
One of two things will happen tonight - sorted piles will go back in the basket to be sorted again later, OR I'll actually put them away where they belong.

Yes, this is tidy, very tidy.

Sunday 3 November 2013

Social Media Bans?

Lately I've seen a few blogs, posts and news articles about people giving up Facebook, and other forms of social media, be it permanent, or just a break.

The reasons are many, a few I have seen are:


1. I'm spending too much time on facebook and not enough with my kids 
2. I can't even go to the toilet without taking my phone with me 
3. I can't remember the last time I spoke to a friend/family member on the phone, it's always on facebook chat
4. I get more excited about a retweet than I do my kid singing me the ABC song
5. I have no "real life" social life, it's all on facebook
6. I waste so many hours doing nothing on facebook, instagram, twitter etc.




Now, I completely understand the reasons behind it, and am guilty of quite a few of them myself. 
I will check facebook, then recheck it 5 minutes later. I will take photos of my meal, be it at home or when I'm out, and I'll post it right then and there on instagram, #foodporn is one of my favourite hashtags. Yeah, I have a bad habit of checking when I'm woken by a kid at 4am, why I don't know, it's fucking 4am, but I do it anyway. Miss O has started swatting the phone screen when she is on my lap, she can't say it, but I'm pretty sure she's thinking "put the fucking thing down and cuddle me, I'm only this little once" ... ok it's more likely that that's my guilty conscious less than her thinking, but you get the idea. 

I completely respect those that are 1. Considerate enough of their family to sacrifice a huge part of their lives, and 2. dedicated enough to actually go through with it. 
However, my question is this -

How will we learn how to take things in moderation, and in turn, teach our children to do the same? 

Once you get over those first few stages of withdrawal, it becomes easier and easier to go without. A social media addiction can be just as strong and hard to break as any other addiction. Learning to balance your social media life, and your real life, now THAT is really hard. 
Making the choice NOT to take your phone to the loo, or NOT checking your feed at 4am, placing self imposed bans during certain hours of the day, and making one on one time with your kids a real thing, not something you do with your phone in one hand while you post photos and status's about it. Post it after the fact, during your facebook time, not when you should be making memories with your family. 

The key is to learn when and where is the appropriate time, and to prioritise, your kids and your family should come before a status. 


So, my pledge, is to cut back on my facebook use, as I said, I am guilty of some of the reasons listed above, hell, I go take a shit and feel odd because I don't have my phone in my hand. WTF is with that? (just to clear something up, I put it down before I wipe and don't pick it up until I've washed my hands, so no, I'm not facebooking with E. Coli). 
I'm still going to drink my morning coffee/s and facebook while the girls eat breakfast, because that's my morning time; and I'm still going to have it open in the background while I work, or blog like now, but I'm going to stop jumping on it like a fat kid on cake when I see it flash with a message or notification. 
It will still be a part of my life, I'd be fucking insane to think it's not, but there is no need for it to BE my life, and that's my personal pledge! 



Wednesday 23 October 2013

Devastating & Dumbfounded

The entire world knows about the fires destroying large parts of NSW over the last few days. The smoke can be seen from space, it is on news around the world, hashtag #nswfires is everywhere, you can't NOT know. 
It is devastating, it is horrible and it is heartbreaking. 

First, there was a report of an 11 year old being questioned in relation to starting fires. Now, two 8 year old boys have been detained after being found trying to start another fire this evening.


What the actual fucking fuck? 


These are KIDS, they aren't even teens, fuck, they probably haven't even hit puberty or kissed anyone other than their mother and sweet aunt Mable, yet they are gathering leaves and grass to light a fire? 


The first question I ask, is where are their parents or guardians? If you aren't watching your kids, or have arranged reliable care for them, then where the actual hell are you? Why are your kids, at that age, being left to their own devices? Not to mention, why are they playing with a lighter? And why, WHY, are they of the belief that playing with fire, of any kind, in any situation, is ok?

I'm completely dumbfounded, I honest to fucking god do not understand HOW and WHY kids this young are doing this? I don't understand why adults do a lot of things they do, but at 8 and 11 years old, these guys should be building lego, watching cartoons, they should be in their homes with their families, not playing with lighters. 


The men and women risking their lives to fight these fires, they are amazing, they are the ones that should be making headlines. Thank you to them, all of them. 





Photos from news.com.au



Monday 21 October 2013

Lots of shit, not so many giggles

This weekend my house was hit with the. worst. gastro. EVER.

It started about 8pm friday night, when, after a shower, Miss G was complaining of a belly ache. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed getting into her PJ's, she had that look, you know the one, and I had to decide if I was going to run to grab a towel and probably miss it anyway, or just stay there, hold her hair and calm her while she projectile vomited across her bedroom floor. 
I did the later. 

It was the exorcist, minus the green and head spinning. 

And when I say "across her bedroom floor", I mean the pile of pillows, stuffed toys, 2 pillow pets, and the dog. 
When she finished, she surveyed her work, took a deep sigh and announced "I feel much better". 
Until she did it again at 10.30pm, and again at 11pm.

By 12am, I had both girls in my bed, Miss G had it coming out of one end, Miss O the other. 
It all settled not long after, until, of course, I woke at 2.40am feeling that unmistakable cramp in my belly.
I sipped some water, I rubbed my stomach, then ran like the wind with bucket in hand, and gave my sacrifice to the porcelain throne. 

It just. didn't. stop. 

By 5am I was exhausted, Miss O was awake with another dirty ass, and Miss G was snoring happily. 

5.30am Miss G woke ready to start her day, of course she was fucking fine, bright eyed and bushy tailed, asking for toast and Kindy Gym. I was on the toilet again.

5.40am, I, the 29 year old mum of 2, was on the phone to my mummy, in tears, calling in an SOS. 
My mum lives 2 hours away, she also has a life, I have 2 younger siblings, mum has her own health issues, etc. Yet, she worked stuff out to be here asap, which was still 4 hours away.

I can do this, I thought, I can totally vomit, shit, cry and look after 2 kids with no sleep! Hell yes!

I'll admit, I handed Miss G a lunch box with tiny teddies, and sultanas in it, and my ipad, and Miss O and I went back to sleep. 

I managed an hour.

The rest of the time was a blur.
9.30am I was done, how the fuck I made it till then I have no idea, I was seeing stars when I vomited. My whole body convulsed, the vomiting was so violent that nothing was safe, I was sitting on a folded towel for a reason. 

I called my best mate, woke her up, Saturday mornings are kid free for her, yet she rolled out of bed, and was here within half an hour.
The girls were in safe hands, so my bucket, towel ass and I, we curled up in the fetal position, and cried with self pity till sleep came.
Being the woman she is, my mate couldn't just come watch the girls, no, she had to tidy my house, load the dishwasher and do the laundry, including the pile of aforementioned vomit items. 

She was a life saver, everyone needs a friend like her in their life!!
I think I may have passed out at some point, I don't remember anything, but my bucket didn't fill itself with bile! 
I woke when I heard my mums voice. I felt like I was 5 years old again and mummy was here to save me. 

She forced me to eat and drink, she took care of my babies, and I saw the side of my mum that I think we, as adults, tend to forget. That kind, patient, nurturing side that takes a back seat when their own kids grow up and get the know-it-all grown up attitude.
I can't describe it, but listening to them playing and giggling, it didn't stop the shits, but it did make me smile!

I finally stopped Sunday afternoon. I'm glad I got the worst of it, if either of the girls had been as bad, it would have been a hospital trip, a messy, smelly hospital trip.  


My body still aches from the vomiting, and I'm slowly catching up on the rest of the washing, and my eternal thanks to my life savers!!! 


Wednesday 16 October 2013

Breast Cancer Awareness Month



Our boobs don't just get one day, they get an entire month, because quite simply, boobs are that awesome. 
However, they aren't always awesome. Sometimes they are hiding pure evil. Yes, I'm talking cancer. 

Cancer does not discriminate. It couldn't give a fuck what colour you are, your age, if you believe in God or gremlins, if you have kids or don't, what country you live in, or your sexual preference, breast cancer doesn't even care if you're male or female, it will find you and it will do all it can to destroy you.
Best thing you can do for yourself, is regular self checks. You can read the five steps of a self exam here, there are even pictures. BOOBS! 

Early detection saves lives. Get to know your boobs, how they feel, how they look, don't be ashamed to be on first name basis with every part of them, because one day, it could save your life. 



Monday 7 October 2013

Sparkling Ice Tea - A Soup review.

I'm a member of the market research group, Soup, I likely got an email for this but either did make the cut, or was too late. A friend of mine gave me a sample can at Miss G's party. 



Look, I made a sign!
This is the original version, there is sugar free too.
The first sip, I didn't like it. Not enough sweet, bit acidic. 

Had some more, actually this isn't too bad, could definitely do with losing that real acidic tang though.
Finished the (very small sample) can, and thought yeah, I don't mind it at all. 

I'd buy it, depending on price. I also think it would be better in a bottle, might help that acidic taste that cans can give, and I'd love to try flavoured too. Mango or peach, that would help sweeten and dull the acidity. It's left me with a tangy after taste. 
I think they could be onto a winner, if they released an alcoholic range, this would be awesome with some vodka! 

Wednesday 2 October 2013

Bear, the man of Shit Mountain.

A few weeks ago, I had another man come into my life. 
His name is Bear and he is a greyhound. 

I came across the Greyhound Adoption Program yonks ago at the Royal Brisbane Show (aka the Ekka). I know they are fucking odd looking dogs, their heads look too small for their bodies, and they are skinny and lanky, but fuck they are adorable! 

This guy is so stupidly patient. The girls smother him in kisses, hugs, they cover him in blankets, boss him around, and the dude just doesn't give a shit. On the rare occasion he has had enough, he'll let them know with a bark (which is surprisingly intimidating).
He is HUGE, and he forgets it at times. Like when he tries to turn around in narrow spaces, or when he gets on my bed in the middle of the night.
He is also the biggest fucking sook! He shadows me everywhere, when I go for a shower, he waits for me outside the door. He sleeps on the floor at the foot of my bed, or, when one of the girls are having a bad night, I'll find him either on Miss G's bed, or on their floor. He accompanies me wherever I go. When we are home, he has to be inside (or he literally cries).


One thing I kinda didn't think about, was big dog = big poop.
Big isn't the word for it. It looks like he has eaten and shit out another small dog. I miss having a man around just so I can send him outside to do the "mans job" of picking up the dog shit mountains. 

Alas, I do it, and I wish I had bigger hands. 







* Just to clarify, I don't pick up the giant shit with my bare hands, I wear a plastic bag as a glove, I'm not that fucking stupid. 

Sunday 29 September 2013

I'm on facebook and have a kid that won't shut up

Decided to make a facebook page linked to this blog. I have a habit of thinking of things, taking photos etc, but it never makes the blog, part laziness, part it not being worthy of an entire blog post, or by the time I'm able to blog it, I've fucking forgotten.
Hence, facebook page, you can find the page here. I can update it, photos, shit like that and you fuckers can have a piece of me every day.
I'll still blog, might even blog more. 


One thing I'll blog about is my pain in the ass child!
I love her, I promise, but fuck me dead, does she ever shut up? She's 4 now, going on 34, and talks. so. much.
It wouldn't be so bad if she actually listened!
Asks a question, you give the answer, she asks the same question, you give the answer, she asks again, you tell her you're not answering anymore, she asks again, you grit your teeth, she rephrases and asks again, you take a deep breath and walk away, she follows while asking again, you wish you swallowed. 


The other one is now walking, she's still at that wobble stage. You know the one, it's as adorable as fuck, especially when you can see their chubby thighs wobbling and you resist the urge to bite them. She also climbs, I am currently typing this and watching her climb up and down on the coffee table, while eating a tissue. Girls got skills. 


Wednesday 25 September 2013

Dexter Finale

I am only going to warn once, this contains spoilers
If you have not watched the finale episode of Dexter, do not read any further.

Do not whinge to me that I ruined it for you, it's not my fault you're too fucking dumb to listen. 






Are you fucking kidding me? SERIOUSLY??? 
This show has been graphic, disgustingly awesome, thrilling and twisted, for 8 seasons, 8. fucking. seasons, and it ends with ice cream and a fucking lumber truck?
I won't even comment on the beard either .... just, no. 

My alternate ending - 

Deb still dies. Dexter does not remove her life support and monitors, (which are magically still about to monitor her dying stats ...), carry her from the hospital unnoticed, wrap her in a sheet, whisper sweet nothings in her ear and symbolically throw her over the side of his boat. 
She gets a full honour funeral, Batista wears another hideous fucking shirt, and Quinn cries like a baby (snot and all, he does seem the type).

After Batista and Quinn view the Dexter and Saxon prison video (I love how that sounds like a porno), Quinn's spidey sense is tingly and he suspects Dexter is lying. He corners Dexter in private and asks Dexter to confirm his story, to which Dexter replies "that's what it looks like" with his sexy sly smile. Quinn knows, but Saxon killed his lady love, he pats Dexter on the back and walks away (and in turn, redeeming himself in the eyes of viewers like me that always wondered if the guy really did have balls). Probably a meaningful monologue from Dexter in there too.

After the storm, and the funeral, blah blah, Dexter leaves Miami and finally meets Hannah and Harrison on a beach in Argentina. The sun is shining, there's a dog playing at the waters edge, birds are singing, in the distance there is a family having a picnic. They meet, embrace, kiss, and gush about missing each other and how they can't believe it all worked out. 

Hannah smiles, and pulls out a knife and slashes Harrison's neck. 

Blood spurts across the soft white sand, Hannah snarls some witty one liner about revenge, and Dexter, motionless with shock, is too slow to react as Hannah thrusts the blade into his heart. 
Dexter pulls the knife from his chest, fatally stabs Hannah and they fall together to the ground. 

Dexter's wound bubbles with each dying breath, their blood flows together creating lines through the sand. 
In the background, the dog starts trotting over as Dexter moves his gaze to Harrison's peaceful innocent face, and dies as the dog licks the blood still slowly trickling from Hannah's lifeless body (because she's a dog, get it? like for like?).

The End. 


*images from google


Tuesday 24 September 2013

Tired shopping

Have you ever been so tired that you feel hot but you're shivering, you take a full 30 seconds to blink, you shake all over, your head lulls from one side to the other, your eyes sting and it feels like your eyelids are sand paper each time you move them, you find the simplest things hilarious and you start thinking of something then your train of thought disappears. 

That's me now.

I'm going to ramble anyway. 


Are you a groceries bargain shopper? I'm a bargain shopper. Sure, I go to woolies for a few things that I can't get or don't like from elsewhere, but otherwise, grocery shopping involves several places.

A trip to Banana Benders for fruit, veggies, and whatever grocery items they have got in in bulk and are selling cheap (like kraft cheese sticks, 3 packs for $2; $1.79 for a box of cereal who's name escapes me; 99c for fancy garlic bread). 

Then Meat City for meat, today I got 2+kg trays of skinless chicken breast for $11, 2kg of marinated chicken legs for $2, and 1kg of top beef mince for $6), then Aldi for the majority of the rest. 
I'm also not above going to the "$2 shops" for toothpaste, shampoo, razors, garbage bags etc.

I spent a whopping $177 on groceries this fortnight .... (includes formula and nappies). A lot of people read that and think I did well, no ... that's $50 more than average. I let things run a bit low.

Anyway, my original point .... When I go into Woolies or Coles for the said few items, I walk by the people with trolley loads of groceries and think, you idiots. The amount of money you could save! Granted, not everyone has the time to go to 3 or 4 different places, others don't care. I think of all the money I have saved, and in some cases, how much better my family is eating because I buy better, fresher quality and a wider variety, and I can't help but get a smug, happy feeling in my chest.
For a fleeting moment I feel superior.
I get my kicks where I can.
 

Thursday 12 September 2013

R U OK?


I have depression. It is debilitating and controlling, it robs you of the ability to enjoy simple pleasures, and makes your thoughts go to places they never should. It is the darkest of nights, and the wildest of storms, and you feel like you are battling alone.

Until someone asks you, R U OK?

It doesn't make the feelings go away, it doesn't make the sun shine brighter or the birds start singing the theme to The Sound of Music. But it does give you the chance to say just a little bit of the things you wish you had the strength to say. You could respond with just one word, or nothing but tears, and it could be the first step in a much needed journey.

On the flip side of the coin .... R U OK? day is a fantastic idea, it is, I will never say otherwise. I do however, have a tip to those that do decide to ask R U OK? ...... And that is to be prepared for what that question may result in. Be prepared for tears, or yelling, be prepared for "sob stories" and being someone's shoulder, even just for 5 minutes. Don't ask it only because you think you're meant to, do it because you actually care.




Sunday 1 September 2013

Head lice, nits ... assholes

Call them what you like, they are assholes. 

Miss G is 4 years old in 3 weeks, we have managed to escape lice all this time. Yesterday I found eggs in her hair, then 2 lice. Argh!!! 
Through the mums group, I found out that the eggs I found had already hatched as they were brown. BRILLIANT! Strip all the beds, all stuffed toys and dolls sitting outside, lounge sprayed and vacuumed, trip to the chemist to open my wallet and give my PIN, treatment costs a fortune! 
Of course I just changed all the sheets and towels on Wednesday, haven't even finished washing that fucking lot and BAM the pile as multiplied. AWESOME!

Miss G has hair that goes past her butt, imagine the fun I've had today! Thank fuck she was well behaved and tolerant. As she left the bathroom, I thanked her for being so good, her response "thank you for doing my hair!", you're welcome kid, don't make it happen again. 

I never thought I'd say I'm glad I have dandruff and psoriasis, seems it's a natural barrier to the tiny blood sucking bastards. Treated myself anyway, paranoia wins every time! 

I'm hoping this is not going to repeat itself again for a while. I have the tea tree oil spray ready to go, beware assholes, I am armed. 

oh yeah, Happy Fathers Day Mr Ex, and Mr J my awesome stepdad, and Mr P my father. 
And, happy "I'm doing it all because I'm the fucking bomb" to all the single mums out there, and single dads. Keep kicking parenting ass, and remember just how amazing you are. 

Saturday 31 August 2013

My name is Bree, and I am a slacker .....

Surprise, surprise, I'm here apologising for no blogs in, well, so long I can't remember.
I could spew out a few excuses - 

Sick kids; sick me; busy cleaning for rental inspection; money issues; playing taxi driver; watching too much TV; lack of subjects to blog about; I live a fucking boring life and I didn't want to be that blog you read to fall asleep.

Truth is, I think I'm lacking that part of my brain that allows you to commit to things. Yes I am committed to my kids, eating, breathing, bodily functions, but those aren't exactly optional. I committed to my relationship and marriage when it existed, and I am loyal to a fault with my friends, however the list of projects, ideas, and plans that I've made is embarrassingly long. 


Perfect example - this blog. And folding .... we all know I fucking suck at keeping up with folding. A positive of that though, the rewarding feeling of getting it all done and being able to brag you have none! It's almost like completing a marathon or climbing a mountain .... but not, because I'm sitting on my fat ass while folding the 15 million items of clothing, but I will brag about it, because I can. As for the blogging, I will use the boring life excuse. 


So, give me some things you'd like my opinion on. I'm asking for readers collaboration  aka I can't fucking think of things to blog about and need you to do my thinking for me! It's obvious that I tend to be blunt, and will say the things people are thinking but aren't brave enough to say. I'm not here to make friends, I'm here to waste time when I should be folding. 

Friday 26 July 2013

HELLO!

Guess who has completely slacked off on their blogging commitments? Mmhmm, me!

I got internet, WOOHOOO, went with iinet this time and so far I’m very happy.
Miss O turned 1 ….. that went way too fast, seriously, makes me sad.
I GOT A FUCKING CAR!! Her name is Molly and I love her. I’ve also driven more in the last 6 days (since owning her) than I have ever! My poor ass has taken on the shape of the car seat and I keep going to unbuckle my seat belt every time I get off a chair.
Also moved the girls into the one room together, and the other room is now a study/playroom. I have not one, but TWO desks …. One for my computer and shit, the other is the sewing desk! I figure I’ve spent so much damn money on fabric, I should use it! I’m loving it thus far, even if it’s not sorted …. The place is a mess really.
Um … I got my hair cut; came to really love and appreciate some people in my life for their help, support and guidance. Not that I didn’t before, but of late I’ve needed more from my friends than I have in the past, and I’m humbled by their commitment to me.

I live a sad life …. That’s about all I have …. Except wine …. I have wine … though I am 2 bottles down ……. Mmm wine.


Fuck sorry, I’m totally failing at this whole amusing, interesting blog thing ….. but I am WINNING at drinking wine out of the bottle, epic typos and laughing till I pee a bit.


oh oh oh , ohoh I WENT TO P!NK!!! I fucking LOVE HER! The concert was nothing short of AMAZING! seriously, argh, I nearly cried, love love!!!! 
OH OH AND ... I GOT A MOTHER FUCKING EXPRESSI MACHINE! So, not only do I have a car, but I have awesome coffee all day! YES!







Edit - I forgot to mention that I finally got to meet a woman I've known for many years via the internet, common love of P!ink made this meet happen. It was short but the chick is my kinda person. 





Sunday 23 June 2013

Been AWOL

Yeah shit happens.
In no particular order -

Only weeks until Miss O is 1 year old, this makes me sad.
I can't resist Cadbury marvellous creations.
I fucking love chai latte.
Having a really sick baby sucks. Having to hold down said baby while doctors put iv in their arm is worse.
The beds for parents in the children's ward suck.
Thank fuck for free healthcare.
I still need a haircut.
I will be gorilla legs mum until I can buy new razors. And I will not raise my arms.
As the time of buying a car draws nearer, I'm growing terrified of the prospect of owning a car and all it entails. Makes complete sense when I'm a mum of 2 kids right?
I got more earrings from Jessica's Jewels, this makes me happy. Thinking I may have to carry around a stack of her business cards, I've been asked about them by randoms that much.
Again I have been beaten by mount folding. I need a sherpa and oxygen. I blame my mother for buying the girls more clothes.
I love sweet potato fries.
I'm thinking I need to take out shares in Spotlight, bandaids, Arnotts and Colgate. I bet every mum had a similar list.
I finally upgraded my mobile (cell) phone. Goodbye old iPhone 3gs and hello new HTC One. Love love.
Not so much love for getting internet connected, this makes me very cranky.

Tuesday 11 June 2013

Dear eldest daughter ....

Why? Why? But why? Why? Can I? I want? Please mum? Mum? Mummy? My mumma? Mum? Heeeey mum? You get me? 

No, just no, SHUT UP ....... *sigh* they never. stop. talking. 

And they don't listen, you repeat the same thing several himdred times a day. 
Oh but wait, they do listen because they are quite capable of throwing your own words back in your face ... 
"How many times do I have to tell you?" 
"Where are your manners?"
"Don't use that naughty word!"
"Oh maaaan"
"Just give me a minute" 
"I said in a minute"
"No not right now" 

You kid, have far too much attitude for someone so tiny. 

But she fucking loves making pizza. 


Monday 10 June 2013

Thanks!

Yay, I went out and did the groceries today, thanks T and Z! 

Picked up the party favour boxes I can now decorate ready for Miss O's party, and by decorate I mean glue on a picture of an owl.

Got a heap of salad stuff, wholegrain crackers, tuna, and fruit so I can start eating better. I've gained back some weight these last few months, not too much thank fuck, but enough to just not feel comfortable anymore. I've defaulted to relying too much on rice and pasta, and not making enough things from scratch. My first goal is 6kg done by, um, lets go my birthday, that gives me 10 weeks, surely I can do that? 

You know what else I've been doing? Being a lazy. fucking. sook. 
I must start walking again, I can't use Miss O as an excuse, she loves the ergo carrier and it's hell comfortable for me. Miss G has daycare, don't need to drag her along. 
DO ALL THE EXERCISE!!! .....
Ok just stretches, bedercise and walking.

 Bedercise? Bad back + fat chick + kids = you use time like now, 11.40pm, laying in bed writing a blog, to do any form of exercise you can ..... Right now I'm pumping my legs, probably looks fucking ridiculous but that's the beauty of bedercise, no poor fuckers can see me!!! 

And I'm sick, the tiny humans shared their germs ..... Feels like my head is being pumped with air and some bastard has the vent blocked ..... And there's snot :/

The best part ... While I was out doing groceries, kid free, Mr Ex-m did my folding!!!!!!!!!!! Fucking awesome! I put them all away tonight, which also meant sorting the draws that have been all mixed up, and removing 000 items Miss O is too big for. There's still sheets and towels waiting, but fuck those are easy, and go in the same place. Happy happy!!

Eh, more cold and flu tablets and sleeeeeeep. 

Friday 7 June 2013

Tired day

Today is one of those days where I wish I had a stash of V or Redbull to skull .... And chase down with a no-doze and a cup of coffee. Just so tired, and sore, and despite a morning visit to Spotlight for fabric and bits I needed, I have no motivation or energy to do the sewing. 


Preeeeeetty. 


I also need to wash my hair and shave my legs but I'm not brave enough to let the girls run free in my bedroom while I do so. 
Forgot to get something out for dinner too ....
And I'm stumped as to what to do for today's photo a day subject .... "Bright" ...... Hrm .......

*bitch whinge whine moan* woa is me .........



Monday 3 June 2013

A Photo A Day

I've seen others participate, think its great, but never make it in time to join.
Not this time, this time I'm fucking in!!!

I'm doing June, following the list by Fat Mum Slim




You can follow my awesomeness via Instagram and I'll share my month when it's done.  






Shit and Crumbs

For most people, taking a shit in peace is the usual, for parents it is a well known and rarely experienced luxury. It is also a thing of fear and terror when you go take your seat, and there are no followers. Instead, there is silence. 

Lunch time, Miss O contained in high chair, Miss G busy licking the jam off the bread. Window of opportunity. 
Then I hear the laughter. 
The laughter escalates ..... add banging ....
May have broken my PB for wiping .....

I walk out of my room and am greeted with a line of crushed and mushed food, leading from the front door down to the dining area, and 2 very chuffed looking girls. 

Seems Miss G started riding her plastic trike, Miss O started throwing her food on the floor, Miss G ran over it and upon seeing it made a mess, laughed and did it again. The banging was her zooming down the hallway and slamming into the front door, hence the hysterical laughter from Miss O.

What I failed to see, until after the girls were in bed, was the second mass of food crumbs all over the lounge room rug. 
The fucking shit can stay there, I'm not waking the kids to vacuum it, plus the inevitable swarm of ants will give Miss G something to play with in the morning. 

Thursday 30 May 2013

Thursday morning ABC

This morning I would like to thank ABC 4Kids for making me appear magical in my daughters eyes. 

"Mum please I want Playschool on" 
"Ok Hun in a minute" (I'm in the middle of making breakfast and coffee, priorities kid!!!) 
*30 seconds later* ... *playschool song starts*
"YAY mum, thanks you!!!!" 

Later, I'm elbow deep in morning baby shit and Miss G asks for The Wiggles.
 (remember when mornings started at midday and you were "elbow deep" in your boyfriends morning wood? *sigh*).
"Maybe I'll put them on later" 
.... *5 mins later*
"Wooohoooo WIGGLES, you put my Wiggles on" 
Oh hells yes I took full credit!!! 

She also yelled at me for singing the Playschool songs and when I started singing "rock-a-bye your bear" she rudely informed me I am NOT a Wiggle and cannot sing the songs. Excuse me? What happened to freedom of song? Why can't I get in touch with my lame side? 

I'm now wondering why the tigers on Daniel Tigers Neighborhood are wearing no pants. Wasn't fat cat axed for that reason? 



Actually, the amount of questionable content in these kids shows is fantastic. I should probably say its alarming, a bad example for children, but fuck it, it's as entertaining as hell, and makes hours of animation and bad songs bearable. 


Remember this dude from Playschool? When I was a kid I thought he was great, my mum did too, wasn't until I got older that I realised just how fucking brilliant he was. Thank you kids show writers for thinking of us parents ..... Except those responsible for Yo-Gabba-Gabba, In The Night Garden and Teletubbies, fuck you. 


Equal Love, Equal Rights

2 days after I posted this blog, I came across a video that had been shared on facebook by a friend of mine. It highlights exactly what I was talking about. Ignorance, intolerance and hate, and the importance of equality.
I was sobbing by the end of it, I seriously cannot comprehend how people can be so fucking horrible. All the more reason why I am raising my girls the way I was raised. Acceptance, tolerance and love. 

The video speaks for itself really, watch it -> It Could Happen To You




Wednesday 29 May 2013

I am so smrat

In the pharmacy the other day to pick up my scripts, get the the counter and they have 2 bottles of Dove product marked down to $1.60, bargain, I'll take it. 

Finally got a chance to use it tonight; as I'm washing myself with it, I'm enjoying the smell and reading the back of the bottle ........ And discover it is not a body WASH as I thought it to be, but rather a body LOTION .... at about that same moment I felt its "cooling sensation" in places I don't think it was designed to be felt ..... it was a sensation alright .......


Tuesday 28 May 2013

Meat meat glorious meat .... And owls, but not to eat.

I'm guessing I'm not the only parent that sits on the floor of the bathroom when their kids are having a bath, and messages friends, writes blogs and does up the meal plan? 

Here I am doing all of the above while my 2 are enjoying the bubbles. I wish I was still small enough for the bath tub to feel like a swimming pool. 

As I've mentioned already, I'm planning Miss O's combined first birthday/naming day party. I've been looking into cake toppers (it's an owl theme) and bitching at the prices people are wanting ... $40 fucking dollars for a fondant owl? Seriously? And it's not even cute!!! And no, I do not want Hoot or Hootabell (even if the girls do love them).
Cue friend with the creative skills I lack .... and a stock of fondant, colouring, fancy cutter things and patience. 
3.5 odd hours later we have an owl (that perfectly matches the one I used on the invitation), a name plaque, a pretty number 1 on wire and 80 odd tiny fucking hearts I cut with the cookie cutter style thing and my thumb is still numb.
 I coloured one lot of the fondant blue .... I look like I've given a hand job to a smurf. 


Seriously though, so. fucking. awesome!!! 


Finally got to the local meatcity today too. So. Much. Meat!!!! It's insane! And the prices, fuck me why have I never been there properly before? Well that would be because its not in the most practical place for a person with no car. I'm now converted though. 


"Meat showroom" ...I recommend using the free jackets, it's freezing as shit in there, I could have cut glass with my fripples after the first 2 mins. 


$77 worth of meat .....including left overs this is 1 month worth of meals for us (presuming I used just this meat every night, but allowing for what I already have in the freezer, I won't be meat shopping for at least 6 weeks). It's all the better cuts too, I could have done it cheaper but fuck it, give me all the meat!!!!! *sniggers* 

All that meat available (.... *more sniggers* ...) and what does my kid ask for for dinner?


More meat for me!!!!!!!


Monday 27 May 2013

Ready for some controversy?


I am straight. I am a woman in every way. I am a mother, a sister, a daughter, and technically I'm a wife. 

I am also tolerant, open minded, pro-choice, considerate and I will judge you on your actions and your mind set regardless of what you look like and I am all over equality like a rash. 

Life is life; your body your choice; my personal beliefs may be different to yours but that doesn't make either of them wrong. I believe in basic human rights and punishment if you violate them. Love is love, it is blind and it is wonderful. 

One thing that I thank my mum for is raising myself and my siblings with what I believe to be some of the best things a parent can teach their children. She raised us to accept a person as they are, to look beyond their physical appearance, race, religion, culture or gender, and to accept them for how they treat others and themselves. 

You could be a vegetarian black transgender man with a stutter who is a devout Buddhist, and as long as you are polite, tolerant of my love of meat and respect that I am not religious, we'll get along fine. To me you will be the person you are, I will call you "he" because that is who you are, I will make sure we go to dinner at places with good vegetarian options but I will order the steak, I said I love meat. 

I respect the choice to be a particular religion, to believe, live by those beliefs and values, but please don't push your beliefs at me or see me as less of a person because I don't "embrace faith". Also, don't use said faith as an excuse for murder, ignorance, mutilation or hate. Religion doesn't make you do those things, being an asshole does. 

It's really simple in my head, I struggle to understand why there are people in society that ridicule and literally abuse, (verbally, physically, emotionally), those that are different, or aren't able to be placed neatly in a box with a clearly defined label. 

Yes I support gay marriage. I support transgender. I understand the choice to abort, adopt and foster. If a criminal is sentenced to life in prison for their actions then they are in prison until the end of their life, no parole, no early release for good behaviour. I also believe in fairer and consistent punishment for crimes; better community, social and government support for youth (particularly those in lower socio-economic areas), low income bracket, those with a disability, homeless, recovering addicts and the mentally disabled. Equality in the workplace, and across industries. I question politicians getting 6+ figure pays, yet those that prepare the next generation of our country, teachers, doctors, nurses, child care workers, etc, are, in comparison, paid in peanuts. 

Some might say I'm opinionated, which to a point is true, but lets be blunt here, if more people thought this same way, the world would be a nicer place. 


By the way ... This is my 50th post :D