Correct Me if I am Wrong…………Sexist rant

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A lot has gone on since my last post. Work has well and truly begun and already I am thinking that the term ‘job-share‘ may be French for ‘get paid for three days, but work full time. Some fellow teaching Bloggers did warn me of this, but I am hoping that it is just beginning of the school year madness and that it will calm down soon.Or not?

My other job- the important one, the full time one, the unpaid and un-appreciated one called ‘being a mum and wife’ has continued to run ahead at full pace. As you may well know, children don’t understand nor care that one of your many talents has become being able to cook dinner, hold a gigantic 2 year old, chop an onion with one hand and turn up the volume on Peppa Pig with the other hand. Now that’s what I call animal adaptation! Last week I even sarcastically asked my four year old what hands he would like me to use to fill up his drink bottle, and in all his wisdom he replied ‘ You just need to get more hands mum’. Yes wouldn’t that be nice son! And you know what would happen if I got more hands? Some one in this house would find more jobs for the extra hands to do too!.

Can I be really honest here? I  just need to do a mental purge.  I am going to be very controversial now and say that the feminist movement has a lot to answer for. Not so long ago the women’s sole role in society was to be a good housewife. This involved birthing and caring for children, cooking, cleaning and keeping a husband happy. We were clear on the role, as limiting as it was, we knew our gig. Anyway, the mothers who went before us fought tooth and nail for gender equality, and I sincerely thank them for this.  For the first time we could throw our aprons and bra’s into the air, run out of our homes in trousers not our skirts, get down and dirty and begin working in meaningful paid positions. Sounds awesome right? What women wouldn’t see this as progression right?

HANG ON…….LET’S BACK THIS TRUCK UP A LITTLE ! Right back to the part where the women were supposed to be throwing away their aprons. Last time I checked, I was still wearing the apron on top of my trousers! Someday’s I’m so painfully aware of it  that it chokes me. Someday’s it’s still hanging off me as I jump out of my car ready to take up my place in society as a working woman.  What a great deal the men got out of the feminist movement, I can hear them now laughing behind our back. ‘Yes Gerald, great idea- Let the ladies work and they will still do everything else as well, it will work out great for us gentlemen mwaaaaahhhhhaaaaaaa! (insert Dr Evil’s voice here)

I realise more than anyone that in some cultures, the women’s role has not evolved and has not changed much since these times, and some days I look at these families with envy. I also realise it is apparently my choice to to wear an apron and work at the same time, but the hard part here is now we have a choice. When we didn’t have a choice it seemed easier to accept it. It is fine to be a house-mum when everyone else is too. Our roles have become blurred, we have lost parts of our identities and now scrambling to define our new role in society.  It is not fine for women to ‘just stay at home’. It is also not fine to be just a career woman. So what do we talented,  multi-tasking women do? We adapt and do both- the same as any other successful species.

My problem is that yes now we can contribute and work, but in most houses we are still the ones doing everything else as well. If we have evolved then why haven’t our home roles? Why should we work AND still be doing 80% of every other job that comes our way, child related or not. Something has to give, we can’t keep all of these balls in the air without dropping a few. We are still the ones to organize the children in the morning, we are still the ones packing lunch boxes, we are still the ones dropping by Woolworth’s on the way home to get groceries for dinner, we are still the ones to remember the children’s vaccinations, organize presents for birthday parties, sorting out clothes in the morning, finding lost shoes and nursing sick children at 2am, 3 hours before leaving for work ourselves. Yes It is in our genes, mums can not stop caring and nurturing just because we are now wearing trousers. We will continue to be cross dressing, apron- over- business -suit wearing machines who try to save the world or at least save the chicken from burning.

Before the inevitable ‘My husband does all the housework and cooking in my house’ comments, Lets get real. Clearly It is not just about cooking. Of course there are many exceptions to what I am saying. There are many fabulous husbands out there who work their bums off to help their wives, and to them I applaud. The sad reality is that most, and I say this with slight caution, MOST women are still keeping the homes going. Things have to change. In the past 4 years alone 3 female friends of mine have or have at least considered returning to work and having hubby stay at home with Baby Bob, as they are the main bread winners. The men have been more than willing to let go of a few ‘traditional masculine traits’ (usually the useful ones) whilst taking full advantage of our newly acquired skills, but are a bit slow on the uptake in acquiring their own new skills. Perhaps not quite yet the norm, but certainly is a growing trend.

So where do you stand on this. Should we just drop the ball completely or should we STILL be trying to do it all?

New Year, New job and the Glass-Uterus Effect

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Tomorrow is my first day at a new school. Since arriving in Queensland 6 years ago I have been extremely lucky to have remained employed at the same wonderful school, conveniently located ten minutes from home. I remember my first day six years ago. Having just moved from a really tough school in the dry, northern suburbs of Adelaide I arrived at what looked like a tropical holiday resort. With a golf club across the road, the Surfers Paradise skyline in the background and a lake right in the middle of the school oval.  I remembered thinking, ‘we’re definitely not in Elizabeth’ any more, closely followed up with ‘I probably won’t need to worry about my car being stolen while it’s parked out there’.

During my time there I have welcomed my two beautiful boys, and to be honest it has become more of a social outing than a job. Amongst the staff are teachers who have become great friends, and in some instances I have taught all siblings from the same family. For a school that was only ever meant to be a temporary stop gap while we figured out if we wanted to stay on the Gold Coast, It turns out to be the longest stint I have had in any one setting. My second home.

I am so sad to leave, but so excited to move forward. After a lot of thought my decision was confirmed last week while watching my friends prepare to go back to the classroom full time. At my school it was full time for me or nothing. That is the problem with teaching, it is often all in or nothing.

After applying for jobs close to home and being honest about my plans to have more children, I was met with ‘In light of what we discussed, there won’t be any suitable positions for next year’ and I totally get it. Being that I am on contract, I am a liability in a classroom. Having a class is like taking guardianship of 30 little lives for a the whole year- not just for two or three terms until I dare decide to have a child in the middle of a school year. Before I  hear gasps of ‘discrimination’ it is so not like that. If you are permanent then you have a rite of return as a part time teacher. As a contract staff member I was lucky to have been looked after as long as I have been between having my children. To be fair, If it hadn’t been for stopping to have babies I would have had a permanent position here in Queensland as well as in Adelaide. They call it the glass ceiling effect- a woman’s inability to progress as far as a male in the same work place, and it is alive and kicking in the teaching profession. I just call it the ‘glass uterus effect’. Our progression is severely affected by our biological requirement to stop and have children, and lets face it, that is just tough shit! You can’t have years off and expect to be the boss when you get back!

So I’ve gone further a field for a 3 day classroom position (job share), and I couldn’t be more excited. Rather than dreading the return to full time work and leaving the boys, I can have my class…and eat it too (oops…cake).  Yes it is half hour away, and yes it’s not as pretty as where I was, but it is the best option for my young family at this moment in our short time together.

Teachers out there will appreciate the lack of ownership and achievement you feel when you don’t have your own class. We didn’t get into this profession to teach 12 lessons of back to back library lessons for prep children. On most days this involves getting them safely to the library without losing one or all of them as they cross the yard like a flock of sheep, sending at least three with sore fingers to the sick bay, a poo in the pants, having my feet rubbed (not so bad) and at least 3 comments about why I’m wearing the same clothes as last week.   (FYI you kids are just seeing me at the start of my washing cycle)

So tomorrow I meet my teaching partner and see what will be my new ‘home’ for a while. For some strange reason, what would have made me sick with anxiety once upon a time, is now so exciting! Maybe it’s called growing up.

Wish me luck :)

Have I become one of ‘Those’ Mums?

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Today I broke up with my four year old’s swimming teacher. Well, in actual fact she broke up with me and I am still furious about it.  This was such a shock as there have been many times in my life where I have not been able to hold my tongue when confronted with rude people. Look, admittedly I do have an extremely low tolerance for stupidity and even less tolerance for unnecessary rudeness or bad attitudes from complete strangers. I, like many others can also appreciate a bit of rudeness where rudeness is warranted. I am usually the first to throw out a few colourful f-bombs or go for in for the kill when I feel something to be unjust like my pet hate of people pushing in, but this lady or should I say Sergeant (I know this as she reminded me 99 times ‘I am ex-military you know’) really takes the cake. For the first time or maybe the second in recent years, I said NOTHING. I remained cheerful as I gritted my teeth. I tried to ignore the hot burning sensation of fury as I hurriedly dressed my son to leave, knowing he would be listening to every word to coming pouring from my mouth. I walked out in shock and at that point I was still unsure what to do.

Anyway between her outright rudeness, pretending she didn’t receive text messages or emails, talking to the children like ‘dogs’ or sorry ‘soldiers’, her ridiculous logic regarding make-up lessons and her insistence on me joining Facebook in order to communicate with her on any level, enough was enough. Today after my son continued to cry through her lesson she responded with ‘I can refund your money if your’re not happy, I have a waiting list and plenty of clients’. Excuse me crazy lady but isn’t this your job? You are getting paid a decent hourly rate to help children overcome a fear of water, not to create one!

In a way I am proud of the pleasant way in which I responded to her behaviour today. I contained my shock and simply sent an email accepting her offer to cancel our lessons if we weren’t happy, but then a part of me is feeling as though I have let my self down. Perhaps I should have told the truth in my cancellation email and told her exactly why we were cancelling.  There’s always a part of me that needs to fight the fight, but lately much of me says ‘ Is it really worth it?’. I know I would’ve walked away feeling like crap.

Later today, while researching other swim schools in the area I had a horrible thought that maybe I had just become one of ‘those mums’. The mums who fight for their children so hard that they become the habitual school hoppers, the soccer club leavers or the dance school deserters. Maybe I should have put up with her rudeness and returned the following week? Maybe my child should get used to being petrified and scared to death of another adult? Maybe it will build resilience? My heart tells me I did the right thing but my mind is still playing out the argument I should have had. He is only 4. I was disgusted that I had watched him in tears today as ‘she’ tried to blame his fear on ‘behaviour’ rather than that she was a cold, harsh nut case who needed to calm down a bit. We are not trying to qualify for the Olympics over here.My son had no fear of swimming until this lady took over the lessons a few weeks back. Fill in the blanks lady..I mean ‘sergeant’.

As a teacher, I am a huge advocate for challenging the comfort zones of a child, so would hope that I have been able to separate what is helping and what is hindering. I continually preach about the disabling consequences of parents rescuing children and making life ‘breezy’ with no hurdles to jump and removing fears to conquer. This type of ‘helicopter parenting’ results in generations of children who can’t solve a simple problem like finding a pencil, and generations who can’t apply for a job without mum and dad holding their hand at the interview (true story).

But alas, as the evening draws to close and  I finish writing this blog, I receive a rude reply from her saying only ‘money will be in your account in three working days’. There I was this afternoon constructing a polite and cheerful email to ensure our agreement ended on a positive note. What a waste of time. Just goes to prove that regardless of how much I have learnt to control my own behaviour, some people are just Assholes!

Surely someone else has gone through this,  or am I just one of those mums?

‘Old Year Reminders’ for a Happy New Year

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So here I am again, late December contemplating the year ahead. I have decided that New Years Resolutions are actually just bullshit. Romantic, fairy- dust coated goals spewed out from positive little mouths right after Christmas when the world is magical and we are feeling fat and remorseful. The very idea of committing to rectify ‘wrongs’ that you will inevitably fail at doing because you’ll forget what they were by January 2nd- is just ludicrous. Yes, and maybe because I have failed to resolve any of mine from last year I have decided to move the goal posts for this little new years game. Rather than dwell on what I need to change next year in a measurable goal typed manner, I’ve decided to wait until the year has already happened to write my ‘Old Year Reminders’ and carry these through to the next year. No risk of failure this way so here they are…

1. Do not make plans to meet up with people the day after you have planned ‘Dinner and a few drinks’. As going out is more rare an occasion than Christmas itself, dinner and drinks will certainly end in you hugging your porcelain friend for most of the next day. Having your son come in for a quick look  while you’re vomiting does in fact make you as bad as the man from the responsible alcohol commercials.

2. When you say to yourself ‘oh, I’ll just pop into the shops and grab some milk’, look at your sweet little boys and remember, it can only be milk that you are getting. Do not get over confident and start thinking you can just grab body wash, bread and cheese while you are there too. Remember that if you try to push the shopping trip 30 seconds past the suggested child shopping  limits that the angelic sweet looking boys will become animals. Loud, crying, screaming animals that cannot even be contained by the offer of a Chuppa Chup.

3. Relationships that are good and healthy are reciprocal. Good people are those who are still sitting besides you when there is nothing left to take, and nothing left to gain by being with you .They sit with you because they just couldn’t bare to be anywhere else. No one is keeping score- and if they are,  it’s only so they can lend you some points when you need them.

4. Holidays just aren’t holidays any more. It doesn’t matter how lovely it all sounds when you book it in, the children will not sleep, they will become ill, you will fight with your husband and resent every additional second of sleep that they receive that you don’t and you will return needing a holiday to recover from your holiday. The children will not look as happy as they do on the brochure and you will generally have to put up with at least two hours of torture while you travel to your destination. It is okay that your favourite holiday destination has become your own bed. Invest in a good mattress topper and sheet set and really ‘live it up’.

5. Don’t ever look at your phone and ignore a call from someone because you can’t be bothered. You have no idea how important that call might be to them. Just pick up, be honest and ask if you can call them back later.

6. None of the good things in my life came about easily. Anything really worthwhile has been and will continue to be hard work.

7. Enjoy the noisy house between 4-7pm. Someday soon there will be nobody home.

8. You will always spend the dollar you were hiding in your purse in preparation for needing a  trolley at Aldi. Just buy a $2 token for your key ring and don’t risk having to line up for 99 hours to buy one before you’ve even started your shopping. (Adelaide readers have all of this excitement ahead of you, remember my wise words.)

9. Deodorant, toothpaste and toilet paper  purchased at the Reject Shop just won’t be the same. It isn’t called the Reject Shop because of its reputation for high quality goods. The deodorant will smell like your uncles pants drawer, the toothpaste will taste like feet and the you’ll be poking more fingers  through the toilet paper than you would a pair of gloves. That is one form of paper you just need to be ‘strong’.

Remember that mistakes are bound to happen in 2015. It is just about how you move forward afterwards.Happy New Year to my friends and family. I hope it is everything you need it to be.

Revised: The real list of things that men do to annoy women

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Last night my husband was scrolling through Twitter when I heard him laugh out loud. ‘Here you’ll like this one’ he called out, which usually means I will find it offensive in some way and that he is out to annoy me for the next 15 minutes. I must say 9 out of 10 times I will take the bait and launch into a discussion about why it is not funny to be looking at pictures entitled ‘Epic Drunken Fails’ or anything featuring overweight, naked people.  It turns out he was laughing at a post titled ‘The ten things men do to annoy women’.

Admittedly some items were true and clearly demonstrated the female tendency to change our minds depending on what day it is (lie to them, tell them the truth, speaking too much, speaking too little, being too nice, being too mean, breathing, not breathing) but it just goes to show that men still have no clue about what it is that they could be doing to make life a little easier for us.  It also proves that my husband knows exactly what to do to push my buttons and also knows what to do to make my life easier, so my question is, if they know what pisses us off – why don’t they just stop doing it?

So here is my list of things that men do to annoy women-Just in time for Christmas boys!

1. When men return home from their daily adventures, women will ask  ‘What did you get up to today?‘ or ‘Did you see anyone?’. The men say ‘no, nothing much and no, I didn’t see anyone’. Fast forward to a week later and we find out that not only did you see long lost Uncle Barry, but he is now marrying a circus performer and we are invited to the wedding. The men respond with ‘Didn’t I tell you?’ No you bloody didn’t. Just tell us what we need to know, WHEN we need to know it.

2. Women spend precious minutes deliberating over the best words to use when composing a text message to our loved ones, perhaps a few sentences of our deepest heartfelt sentiments or sometimes even a little argument. We see the little dots flashing (for you Iphone users out there) and get excited anticipating their reply, only to hear the beep…. and it reads ‘ok’. Um excuse me, I have just written you fourteen sentences and asked 4 questions, how the hell have you just answered with ok?

3.Men please don’t reply to arguments about housework equity, with ‘I do the gardens and I empty the bins’. These events occur monthly and weekly. The dishes are daily, the washing is daily, 2 x baby carrying=18 months hard time. We will put up no fight should you ever wish to swap. And yes we realise the reason you don’t ask to swap is because you ‘know’ exactly what’s happening here.

4. Wetting the babies Head: Are you guys serious? What part of your participation in this grand event are we celebrating? This has got to be some type of sick joke. You are going to try and convince a fat, hormonal and tired new mother who has just spent 18 hours in labour that it is YOU that deserves the beer and the slap on the back.

5. Men who get out of bed last and wonder why the bed is not made when they’re preparing to get back into it at night. Because it is sooooo easy to make the bed while you are still sleeping in it. I have never met a woman who says ‘ I just love getting up at 5 every morning with the kids so we can sit and watch you sleep so peacefully.

6. Food shopping is not actually just OUR job. You do help to eat the food and we are well aware that when you are sent to shop that you purposely buy the wrong products in order to deem yourself an ‘unreliable shopper’ who will never be asked to go again. My name is not Susan, I do not wear an apron, apply my lippy before you get home or live in the 1950’s.

7. If we have just spent an hour getting ready to go out, we want to be told we look great.

8. Do not ever see the petrol light come on and think, ‘I can’t be bothered, she can get it on her way to work in the morning’. This is never an ‘Ok’ thought to have. She will NEVER enjoy filling the car up with petrol and will not feel exhilarated by trying to run the gauntlet before the car conks out on the side of the road.

9. Male toilet behaviour. I am merely pointing out that it isn’t the ladies who wee’s under the toilet lid.

10. As soon as our phone rings and we speak our first words, you all of a sudden want to ask us questions. Very loud, important and urgent questions that couldn’t possibly have been asked in the 9 hours leading up to the phone call. Stop it, just wait.

11. Don’t fall asleep on the couch holding the remote control and then as soon as we are able to prize it away and get it onto the Real Housewives, wake up like some one has stolen your cat declaring ‘ I was watching that’.You were sleeping, relinquish control of the remote. Also stop trying to flick through channels during the ads of our favourite shows, you will never be able to get the timing right.

I must point out that the above ‘ annoying acts’ are not based on my own husband. Whilst this is not a true story, some characters have been inspired by real life events. However if my husband IS reading please stop leaving your drinking glass on the uneven part of the sink. It will never ever balance there. You choose the one part of the ample sized sink to balance a glass, knowing it will fall into the sink every time. Please just put it in the dish rack provided!

When I started writing list, I thought I would be here for hours. Turns out men aren’t so bad. But really guys, just get on board!

Third Time Lucky or Three’s a crowd?

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So those of you with children will be familiar with the mad battle that us 20 to 40 something’s have from time to time. Life is going smoothly, the kids are getting older and dare I say ‘easier’. The baby bags are getting smaller and at times can be forgotten altogether . No more looking down at my hands at the supermarket and realising there’s actual poo on them, and no more frantically searching for somewhere to expose my underwear, floppy belly,breasts and nipples to strangers whilst trying to convince myself  that it is totally normal to do so in order to feed my child.    ( which I still have not achieved and sorry guys I will just never be a’ just yank it out,’ type of gal ‘)

The nights are beginning to feel like nights again- full of sleep and guilt free red wines. Then there’s me. I am standing at the station waiting for the train…one is headed to ‘Normal Town’ where bodies have returned to a semi-human looking state after housing two big boys and then the  brain is beginning to turn back towards ‘worky’ type things rather than the big issues in life. Like When will Playschool tour Brisbane again? and Did you know that the new cafe down the street has a kids play area ? #serenity #newhome #myshout.

I can finally start to sit down with my child-less friends for at least one sip of coffee before running off mid sentence to capture a pint sized escapee who becomes an expert at locating the nearest $2 shopping centre ride. Within minutes of seeing your weary bottom hit the chair the toddler radar is alerted to the next colourful target. (This months $2 mechanical miracle ride is the Peppa Pig’s rotating rocket, conveniently located right outside the coffee shop.)

Then there is the other train…roaring into the station at full steam ahead, it’s the train back to what I affectionately like to call ‘Crazy Town’. Yep, that’s right the one where you and your husband discuss ‘trying for a third baby’. I mean what a great idea! Life is good, life is calm, let’s go muck it all up, rewind ourselves a few years and head  back to crazy town! Are we nuts? There are days where I think, I can’t even handle the two I have, why would I add to this madness? It wasn’t so long ago that I couldn’t even do food shopping without my chicken being hurled from the trolley at passers by and my watermelon being poked to death by little fingers…..well actually this was last week (boys and shops huh!)

Though it seems everyone has an opinion on the matter. Having two beautiful boys, people just love  telling us how we should be trying for a girl. Yes if I am honest, despite being a huge lover of boys, with two beautiful baby boys already of course I would love a girl to finish our family. Admittedly I  wouldn’t know what to do upon opening a nappy with no willy in it, but am up for the challenge. However, we go into this decision knowing that due to family history the odds are stacked and a third boy will be our  cherry on top. We go into this decision trying for a third healthy baby, and not for a girl. When this baby business started we just wanted three humans in our life….so lets not get picky.

Then there are those from 3 sibling families who say the dynamics were a nightmare. Three’s a crowd they say, ‘there’s always one left out’ or ‘there’s always a weird one with three’ . We get it. Three means new car, new house and no holidays until 2099, but  I just don’t feel finished at 2. Maybe it’s because I myself am from a two child family. Maybe it’s because I feel like my brother was my best friend, and with just two of us, when he’s not there, I have no one. Maybe because I loved the chaos that would occur in the morning at my best friends house with four kids running around. I am sure she got sick of constantly sharing a room with her sisters, or getting hand me downs, but I am also sure she is grateful today for those memories. Or maybe it is because even at my age, I still hate being alone.

So the next  train to crazy town is fast approaching the station, and I am pretty sure we will hop on and see where it takes us.

(NB- for friends and family this train will not be leaving until after Christmas due to mummy’s appreciation of wine during the festive season)

Oh and I almost forgot, If you are one of three and are sitting there thinking, “What is she on about?, there wasn’t a weird one in our house” then it was probably you.

 

 

One Lovely Blog Award: The Soundtrack to my life so far…

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So I have been blabbing away on my Blog for well over a year now, and I have to say that we have experienced a ‘topsy turvy’ relationship. Some weeks are great, the writing comes easy, the stats are high and there are comments a plenty. Other weeks you sit down to write and wind up searching realestate.com despite having no intention of moving. You wonder if the views you’ve had have come inadvertently from a poor dyslexic stumbling their way through Google and finding you completely by accident. You wonder if your latest follower is just another marketing scam promising to boost your ‘Blogging Mojo’. Accident or not it is always nice to know someone is out there.

I still get so excited by new followers, and finding fabulous new blogs is still a thrill. It is especially heart warming to be nominated for ‘The Lovely Blog Award’ by my fellow Queenslander and former A- league Soccer Widow – Mrs C from Mammasvida: A Mamma’s Life Musings.  For a truly honest opinion on all things children, food, life and love head over and take a look. Thank you mammasvida for making me feel so normal, I often read your blogs and think ‘It’s not just me then’, and really admire your honest style. I could use a tip or two from you on how to be truly honest in your  writing without offending your friends, as I am getting to the stage in ones Blogging life when those who know you personally, call you frantically shouting ‘I hope that  blog isn’t about me’.

In keeping with the ‘I’ve been nominated but don’t want to bore every with 7 things about myself again’ theme, I like those have gone before me will create my Lovely Blog Award with a twist.

My 12 Songs: The soundtrack to my life so far …..

Now let me just start by saying, I certainly DO NOT have these songs playing in my car. They are not  my TOP 12 songs in order, or even songs I like, but more the songs that have been chosen for me. These are the songs that when we watch our lives back in slow motion will remind us of  that time in our lives. The songs that take us back to our greatest moments and also the lowest moments in our lives.

1# Nothings Going To Change My love for You: Glen Medeiros, 1987.

I’m not sure how well you would go here but his is actually the first actual song I can ever remember hearing. I was 4 years old, living in the UK (pre-immigration). I remember seeing this film clip on what would have been one of the earliest ‘Video Hits’ shows in London . Terribly, Terribly tragic song, with an even worse film clip. Oh Dear! Child of the 80’s.

2#Give Peace a Chance: John Lennon 1969. Shortly after arriving in Australia I remember by mum and dad playing this on the old record player in our very first house. Usually 2am in the morning after being at the pub and often involving discussions about being homesick or late night calls back to family in England. Some nights it was happy and some nights it was sad.(Often played with Bonnie Tyler and Tina Turner’s greatest hits)

3# Stylistics: Any song, any year. I remember my mum finding this CD in our local Brashes store and being so exciting about it. I too was excited for her until it became the ‘I’ll be playing this very loud for the next 3 hours while I clean the house‘ soundtrack. Will always remind me of my mum.

4# Enya: Only time:2000. This song was played on repeat by my midwife while I laboured my first son in 2010. Being very much the opposite of an earth mother, I refused to make a birth plan or CD like all of the other very  ‘interesting people’ at my birthing class. Who the hell will notice what is playing when a human comes tearing its way out of you like alien life form?’ is what I was thinking. Well turns out you do notice. It probably wasn’t on repeat, but after 18 hours I guess I heard it a few times. Still makes me cry when I hear it, in a good way. I never really listened to the words until afterwards. Such a happy day.

6#Time of Your Life:Green Day:1997. This song reminds me of being a teenager. First parties. First Drinking. First Boyfriends. High School and all that went on in those 5 awkward and horrid years. Also reminds me of the Adelaide Crows (AFL) winning back to back premierships and having a party to celebrate.

7# Fields Of Athenry: Various. This song is important for many reasons. Firstly my Irish heritage meant many family gatherings were spent listening to Irish music. In his younger years I remember my Grandad entertaining at his house with his old tape recorder on the kitchen ledge leaned as close as possible to the fly screen so he could belt out his Irish Tunes into the garden. This song was played at many family events. This was also the song I danced to with dad at my own wedding. We had planned it out for years and when it finally happened, I don’t remember there being anyone else in the room. A moment we had waited for since I was a little girl and one I will remember when I am an old woman. A good memory of the way we used to be.

8#Incubus: Any song, Any year. Reminds me of my husband. Is one of his favourite bands. I have it as my ring tone when he calls. Even our children know the words.

9#Dream Catch Me, Newton Falkner. 2007. This song was still playing in 2008 when I first started seeing my husband. We had only been together a year or so when he asked if I wanted to move with him to the Gold Coast with him for his Soccer Career. Not  one for chasing men and definitely not one for following them interstate,  this was a huge decision to make. Turns our it was the best one of my life but I still remember questioning if I was doing the right thing at the time. I remember this song always use to come on the radio when I was thinking about it.

10# Standby Me: Ben E King.1961. This was our wedding dance. Classic song. Enough said

11#I won’t let you go. James Morrison:2011. Another song from our wedding. Just love the words to this one.

12#Let It go.Idina Menzel (Frozen Movie) :2013. Whilst we are still subjected to listening to this torturous song on Youtube three times a day, I just know this will one day make me smile and think about my beautiful little boys standing on our bed and singing it together.

 

So there you have it My top 12 songs and my  ‘One Lovely Blog Award’  I would love to hear yours!

Have a great week.