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

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!!! 

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. 

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! 

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.