Really, It’s not that hard…

  
Since having Elsie I’ve missed about a million phone calls, forgot to push send on 100’s of texts and have been down right shit at getting in touch with friends. Actually why lie… It isn’t since Elsie, it isn’t even since Sammy, and yes there’s probably even some incredible evidence they I did this even before having kids! 
We’ve all been there… The phone rings, your hands are full and you think to yourself ‘shit…will have to call them back, have so much to say that this spare 3 seconds won’t be enough time so I’ll call back when the kids are in bed’. Problem is by the time the kids are in bed, dinner dishes are done, you’ve finished trying to think of exciting things to put in the school lunchbox ( decide you’re going to put sultanas in knowing full well your child doesn’t eat them but it looks good if the teacher has a nosey) it’s 8pm and you’ve jumped into bed. You go to put your phone on charge and while you do, get distracted by stalking Instagram accounts of perfect strangers hashtagging cool things such as #tbt and #bbg . You’re not cool enough to know what they mean so have to google #tbt and #bbg, within half hour you’ve decided that ‘mumtobikini’ is so inspirational you’ll need to follow her and 19 of her friends. Before you know it, it’s 10pm and you should be sleeping, knowing the newborn will be awake in an hour or so- and all you’ve achieved Is gaining 20 new virtual friends, some contemporary knowledge of hash tagging and a sore wrist from scrolling. You’ve decided it’s now too late to call your friends back but and tell yourself ‘ I’ll call them tomorrow. But no you won’t And so the cycle begins again. 
Today I decided to start calling people back. I’m ashamed to say one friends son was now nearly 2, and I swear he was a newborn when I last called. The second one wasn’t able to answer as her son was in hospital at that very moment. The third call I missed while feeding was my other pregnant friend calling to tell me she had whooping cough. Last month I returned a call to find out my other best friend was pregnant and I hadn’t the time to return her call. 

Today I realised that the perfect time for that chat doesn’t actually exist. It’s actually now. I thought today how one day it might be someone’s most important phone call that I miss. The one that is to tell me they have cancer, or the one that is to tell me a partner has passed away or the one that is to tell me their child is born. And here I am thinking I’m so busy that I can’t answer the phone. My aim from now is to answer the calls even if the boys are jumping on my head, screaming and making it impossible to hear.even if I’m trying to do the food shopping and Sammy is launching roast chickens and tomatoes at other shoppers. I’m going to try hard to Atleast answer – then ask if I can call them back.

As busy as I have thought myself to be, I feel like I’ve let down those that have needed me. If I was important enough for them to think about in their busy days- then they should also be as important in mine. Really… It’s not that hard. 
P.s I did say ‘try’… Could take sometime to make this transition so feel free to use mess bank if it’s not as quick a change as I intend 😂😂

Why I wouldn’t mind being an 80’s mum…

 

Hey 2016 mums, hold on to your almond milk lattes and cacao protein balls…this will really freak you out.

Here is a picture of my 80’s mum.  It was taken with an actual camera. To see this photo she had to first finish the film, take it to the shops to be developed, wait up to a week and then go back to see that 20 of the 24 pictures had a dirty finger blocking the lens and that her children weren’t even looking at the camera.

You also won’t believe it but she didn’t take this photo of herself. Long, long ago mums didn’t need to take photos of themselves being mums and doing mum things. Apparently it was very possible to look after your kids and not tell every Sue, Sharon and Tracy about it. Kind visitors would offer to take pictures for you if they believed what you were doing was worthy of taking a photo. Unbelievable…..I know. How did she know she was doing a good job as a mum if there was no one there to ‘like’ and comment on her post workout photo? Taken whilst balancing her kids on her size 6 hip and removing gluten free, dairy free, vegan friendly, sugar free, organic substitute muffins from the oven? How did she keep going without reading ego stroking comments like ‘wow…you really are a supermom!’ or ‘You look amazing’.

And OMG what is mum wearing? Where is her ‘active wear’? No Lorna Jane here. Good mums don’t sit down during the day to play with their own kids? They go to the gym. Good mums also drop the older kids off at school, then take the remaining children to as many activities as they can in 5 hours. Apparently children very much enjoy going to places where other adults play with your kids for you. No, don’t be fooled – the 2 year old’s you see being dragged into Kindygym and gymnastics kicking and screaming actually really love it and they’ll be photos on Instagram later to prove it.

Hang on….Is that a disposable nappy I can see peaking over the top of my non-branded kids clothing? Why aren’t I wearing a 100% hemp/bamboo blend recyclable and reusable nappy? This must be the reason I have issues as an adult. And check out the daggy surrounds. Where is the abstract art? Designer rug? And on trend colour palette?

You get my point right. This week I could literally vomit at what I have seen and heard coming from the mouths and social media accounts of 2016 mums. Admittedly I can log off. I know being on social media has inadvertently overexposed me to a whole group of what can only be described as ‘asshole mums, but let’s face it they are everywhere. I guess I’ve just been trying hard to hide from them since 2010.

Don’t get me wrong – I have also had my crack at making  ‘clean muffins’ and I also take my kids to activities and post on social media, but please stop me when I begin think that I am the most amazing mum in the world because of it. Truth be told- some days I take my kids to activities because I can’t cope at home all day. I make muffins because I know it will waste an hour of the day and keep the boys from hitting each other over the head. I don’t do things for ‘likes’. This morning I got caught at school drop off dragging my screaming son from our car and allowing him to fall on to the grass in a heap to teach him a lesson. Yep….great mum! Will I be posting photos of myself and screaming son on Instagram with captions such as ‘love of my life’ while we gaze into each other’s eyes today? No, no and more no! Of course he is the love of my life, but today he was a little poo.

This week one of my ‘mum activities’ after school drop off was taking our broken laptop in for repairs in with 3 year old in tow. I handed the crumpled, used Aldi bag containing my laptop over the counter proudly exclaiming ‘all the cords are in there’ (secretly thinking how organized I was). After spending a second looking through the bag the repair guy replies ‘yeah I think there’s even some underwear in there too’. Shock, horror – sitting in the bag peering up at me were a pair of my dirty knickers that must have fallen inside in the weeks that the bag has been sitting in my wardrobe. Yep great mum……

Life is not perfect despite some people’s attempts to fool everyone on Facebook.

I guess my angry little point is, when did we become so needy and reliant on gaining other peoples approval in order to measure and compare our worth as a mum? Why are some going to absolute extremes to portray a ‘perfect mum’ profile? Or casting the net further – why do some people make up completely false online lives for themselves, and then you’re face to face and don’t recognize them?  The sane amongst us are not buying it…we should be reading between the lines. Get real. It is often those who spend the most time talking about how great life is….who are trying hardest to convince themselves.

Mums have been raising kids for thousands of years. You are not a super mum, superwoman or mum because you made your child hand rolled sushi for lunch and took a photo of them eating a coconut today. Nothing at all wrong with doing any of the above, but the ‘mummy –bragging’ has to stop. Stop speaking ‘out loud’ or ‘online’ about things that we don’t need to hear about. Keep it to yourself. Be humble, be helpful. Be real and be a friend to other mums who are also dealing with ‘little poos’ today. Take and post photos because you love them not because you need to be validated by strangers…because people who really know you, know that it’s all bullshit.

Our 80’s mums did it……..and they did it well. Guess what, they didn’t even need the photos prove it.

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

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why men can just say ‘Nah’ and women let you down gently.

Why is it when a man is asked to do something that they don’t particularly want to do they have absolutely no shame in telling the asker of the unreasonable request ‘Nah mate, I just can’t so it’? If the ‘asker’ of the request also happened to be a male, they feel even less need to elaborate on why they ‘can’t do it’ and the answer is just ‘Nah’. I have listened to my husband just say ‘no’ on many occasions and I must admit while one half of me is cringing at his unwavering honesty, I am always secretly envious of his ability not to get caught up in things he just doesn’t want to do. There’s never any beating around the bush. There’s never a pretend emergency, pregnant dog needing supervision, or apologetic tone promising their kidney in lieu of failed assistance….it is always a straightforward ‘no’.

Women on the other hand, when asked to do something that will be of great  inconvenience to us and at times outrageous will feel so backed into a corner that we end up buying a $900 lunch box from a Tupperware party even after swearing blind we wouldn’t be buying anything.

Why is it that women can’t just say ‘no’ to another women without feeling terrible or feeling the need to offer some amazing unearthly excuse? For some reason I think we feel as though honesty would have drastic effects on the friendship, and in all fairness it more than likely would. We know we are sensitive creatures and whilst a ‘nah’ to a male is just a ‘nah’, to a female it a monumental rejection of friendship. We are just a bunch of overthinking, oversensitive sooks.

 

This is what I would love to say:

 

No, I’m not coming to meet you tonight I’m going to see if I get a better offer first and then get back to you later if nothing pops up.

 

No I won’t be meeting you for a drink later, You’ll be drunk and vomiting by then and frankly it will be a monumental waste of make-up and perfume for myself.

 

No I am not ‘happy’ to go for Tapas because I always leave dinner starving because I have been too polite to be my usual piggish self. I hate that I will still end up having to put in $40 for my ‘alleged meal’ and will end up in the McDonald’s Drive Thru on the way home.

 No, I‘d really like to just sit on my couch and I’m not really in the mood for your crap tonight anyway.

Yes I do mind giving you a lift, in fact I am shocked you even asked …You actually live in the complete opposite direction. Are you kidding?

 No I don’t want to come for a play. It’s actually more relaxing putting pins in my eyes than it is listening to your child for two hours.

 No I really think me putting in $50 for a birthday present for someone I don’t really even speak to is unreasonable.

It’s interesting to note that I would have no problem saying any of this to a really close friend, so maybe the answer is ‘Proximity’ The further removed we are as friends, the less able we are to be completely honest when saying no.

 

I tried a little bit of this male honesty last week. Even though I still offered a small glimmer of hope, It felt great just saying ‘Look I’ll see what I can do but it doesn’t look good’. I felt like the situation was left ‘open’ and that the other person was waiting for a better excuse, but I was spent, I just couldn’t be bothered.

It was a small step, but at least I’m a little bit closer to that elusive ‘Nah’.

So are you a ‘no’ man or a ‘Yes, of course I’ll buy you coffee again even if it is your turn’ man?

 

 

A letter to beautiful bride to be

Next week my family will fly down to Adelaide for the wedding of one my best childhood friends.

Milly is like the last man standing in our friendship group. She is the last of our high school friends to get married, and to be quite honest, neither of us thought she would ever see this day. But here we are a week out from her big day and I am overfilled with excitement, love and good memories of my beautiful friend.

Out of all of my friends, I have never seen such an amazing personal transformation. She rolled up to our Year eight Indonesian lesson with fire engine red hair, an Adidas Tracksuit (which was not even remotely similar our school uniform) and a bad attitude. I still have images of her swearing and flipping the bird at our teacher as she was kicked out of her first ever class. Ours was the third high school she had attended in as many terms. Kicked out of all of them for truancy and bad behaviour. After attending a well-known private school, it always surprised me that it was at our dodgy state high school that Milly found her way, and took her first steps in becoming the fabulous woman she is today.

After a terrible start to her high school years, and a topsy turvy home life living between 4 different houses at any one time, Milly seemed to find a home and some sense of belonging at Parafield Gardens. She made good friends and encountered some amazing teachers who were able to support her for the remainder of her high school years. It was in Year 12 that our Science teacher paid for Milly to submit a late application for university. Milly still believes it was the kind actions of this teacher that changed her future. To this day, it is stories like these that make me proud to be a teacher.

She went on to become an amazing, compassionate and skilled Primary School Educator. The best laugh was when in her first year of university she was paired for an assignment with the daughter of our old Math Teacher. On finding out his daughter was hanging out with Milly he replied ‘Stay away from her’. Needless to say that when she did turn up to his lesson, she was less than a model student.

So as my friend is an only child and I am her bridesmaid, I asked if I could speak on her behalf at the wedding.

This is what I wanted to say:

Milly I just wanted to start by saying how absolutely beautiful you look tonight, and thankyou to Domenic for allowing me to share in your special day. Milly, I have had the pleasure of having you in my life for 23 Years. During this time we have laughed together, drank together, cried together and grown together. I never once questioned if distance would be a barrier to our friendship. Some years ago, before You met Mr M, I recall a younger but sadder version of you saying ‘I’m never going to get married’, and I looked at you and said ‘yeah, you will, you just haven’t found the right man yet’. At that point in your life, you did not believe me.

 After a good night out at the Casino, you told me you had met Domenic, and I could tell even over the phone that you had met your ‘Tony Soprano’. For the first time there was a respect, there was a man who loved you as you were and seemed to put up with your sometimes ‘difficult’ behaviours. Whilst I had only met Domenic once or twice, I could tell he was a good man, the one to sort you out, the one to sit beside you as you grew old. Thankyou Domenic for making her shine.

 It probably isn’t tradition for the bridesmaids to speak, but then you have never been a one to follow the rules. You are technically an only child, but you have never been alone, you have always been my sister, and have always been a part of my family. As your sister, I am so proud of the woman you have become, and know that you are a better person with Domenic by your side. Be kind to each other, love each other. Remember the feelings you have today, lock them away in your pocket and hold on to them…it is these feelings that will keep you going when times get tough.

 I wish you both all the love and happiness in the world. Can we now raise our glasses once again to congratulate the new Mr and Mrs M…………..

 I know that Milly doesn’t read my blog, but just in case you bump into her…….sshhhhhh, don’t breathe a word, it’s a surprise.

P.s  – (I am also extremely excited that my husband will for the first time take our sons on the plane by himself. After years of telling me ‘it’s easy’ I wish him well. Though he would not admit it if he had struggled anyway! Men, Pfttt… )

What sort of ‘Phone Friend’ are you?

I don’t know about you, but I always seem to spend my ‘driving home from work time’ engaged in a team motivational meeting, attended only by myself, in only my brain, for only me to hear. Mostly my team meeting is a critique of my day, or a re-shuffle of  my To-do list, but as with any good meeting (even imaginary ones) there are some days I get a little bit distracted. Like today when I was trying to remember what I needed from the shops, until I noticed that a tree that I drive past regularly, actually has a naturally formed face on it that looks like ‘Alfred’ from the popular 80’s game Guess Who. I couldn’t believe it, I was so impressed. There are days that I arrive at my destination and cannot even remember how I got there let alone the fabulous ‘How I can earn money without even moving’ schemes I had thought of on the way.

Today while sitting at the traffic lights trying to avoid eye contact with the driver next to me as if we were in some sort of reverse ‘stare off’ I realised it had been nearly 5 months since I had last called a particular friend of mine. I was absolutely horrified. How could I have some much time pass by without just giving her a call? It was terrible. I immediately text her and arranged a good time for us to chat. As any mum would know, trying to call a friend with children is almost harder than trying to do a Rubic’s Cube without taking the stickers off and moving them. When your children are asleep, hers are awake, when you can talk she’s washing the floor or asleep, when you’re asleep, she can speak and so the cycle continues until you accidentally find a ‘good time’ to chat. But let’s back up a bit.

Why is it such an effort to speak to some people on the phone that it is easier not to call for months and risk missing some really life changing event in their lives? I have been giving this a bit of thought and have come up with the conclusion that all humans with a phone fall into a Phone Friend Category. Your phone category might be placing you unknowingly at the bottom of the phone a friend list.

So here they are:

Category A: This is the friend that you can call or text every day or two, with almost nothing of any importance to report. Usually a close friend who doesn’t mind your boring observations of who you just saw wearing no makeup at the shops, sports scores, or mundane convo’s about television shows. You can always just ring this person and have no shame in tell them that you’re getting off the phone now because you’re bored

Category B: This is the friend who you actually just call every month or so for a quick catch up and a laugh. They don’t care that you haven’t called, and nor do you. A low maintenance phone friend. You have also known this person for such a long time that you both know the score, but also both know you are there for the ‘big times’ in life, when the convo’s actually count. Convo usually is never too long to deter you from calling.

Category B.1 Same as Phone friend B but this friend actually does get annoyed that you haven’t called and has been holding their own private stand off that only they know about, where they have been waiting to see how long it would take you to call them…because you have sooooo much time to care about these silly things. Ha!

Category B.2 Same as Phone friend B, but you can leave it longer than even a month. Sometimes even 3 or 4 months and they still really don’t care.

Category C: The friend who you actually only call because you feel you have to keep the friendship going. You probably have known each other for years yet have very little in common these days. You hate the thought of the call, but once you actually do it you finish up thinking ‘Why don’t I call her more often?

Category D: This is the person you love to have a big chat and gossip with, but you leave it a while between calls because you want to store up enough info for a big chinwag and a laugh. The only problem is that you keep avoiding the call as you know it will last for 5 hours and really, who has time for that this week? Or this year?

Category E: The person that you call when you are bored and lonely and waiting for something. You are either: in the car waiting for someone, at the Doctors or some other public place that prompts you to call someone rather than sit alone like a Nigel No- Friends. This is always a risky call though, because they may not answer immediately and by the time they call you back, your ‘real’ life has resumed and you no longer care too much about speaking to them.

Category D; The text only friend. You are not too fussed about speaking on the phone and arrange every meeting via text. You would rather save all of your information for the face to face meeting.

Category E: Similar to the text only friend ‘The Voice Mail Chasey friend’ is often so busy that you continue to miss each in real time but are happy to converse using short messages.

So it seems that your friends can become a general mix of a few different categories or even evolve into to different categories as life rolls on. My poor friend accidentally fell into category D and that is my excuse for not calling. My solution is to call more frequently or maybe some ‘in between’ call text messages.

I’m sure I have missed so many additional ‘Phone Friend Categories’ so feel free to add any you think of.

So what sort of Phone friend are you? Or do you think it depends on who is calling?

P.s – I know some of you have googled a picture of ‘Alfred’ from Guess Who. Was he the one you thought he was?

Where have you been?….I’ve had ‘cantbebothered-itis’

It has been a shamefully long time between blogs, but it seems my allergic reaction to writing has come to an end. Maybe it’s the ‘Christmas’ in me, or perhaps the guilt of seeing out the year without one more entry,  but either way I’m here, and here it is.

So much has happened since last I wrote, the small things, the big things then the truly life changing things too. There are those moments in life where you stop and take a deep breath in your own silence and think to yourself ‘ This is one of those times’ . By ‘those times’ I mean the things that happen to us (good or bad) that go on to become major clips in our ‘life highlights reel’. I always imagine that when we die we are given a bucket of popcorn, large coke and are asked to watch a highlight package of the life we led…in Gold Class of course, and no you don’t have to share your popcorn. Some of the clips we choose to include, like falling in love, births, successes and happy times, and others are forced upon us, like heartbreak, illness, death and disappointment. It is safe to say I have made many moments this year, and this is why I think I have avoided this blog…because writing makes you confront your fears and realize your truths.

As the end of 2013 draws near, I wanted to document my inclusions to the highlight package for this year, just in case heaven needs help remembering when the time comes.

After spending a full year away from my son, working full time, we begin our ‘Gap Year’ together. Over the year we enrol in and try every activity known to man in an effort to make up for lost time. We realise his favourite place is with mum at the park, and it is free! I feel such resounding guilt at having missed a year with this beautiful little human. Next year, let’s continue to enjoy eating vegemite on toast, watching Peppa Pig and fighting about if you will be having a ‘sleep.

I have learnt that despite trying my hardest, I am never going to be ‘Playgroup Mum’. I am never going to care as much as they do about cake tins and still believe ‘The Cheesecake Shop’ will always present as a far superior option to anything I can make. I do shout at my son’s, but I always say sorry and kiss them straight after. I don’t always make my baby fresh food, and whilst it does worry me that a food item has an expiry date 3 years from now….when I surrender to time and energy I am guilty of using dirty little jars. At times I also really enjoy eating foods with artificial colouring and preservatives and am sick of feeling guilty about it. Oh, and my son is also allowed to eat chocolate occasionally.

My second child Sam is born this year. Life will never be the same. If we leave this earth tomorrow, my boys will have each other and this leaves me with peace. His smile lights up the room and his brother has finally accepted he is here and has stopped trying to bite him. (For now…or at least until we can no longer use ‘Santa watching’ as a threat.) If I am honest, I can enjoy this birth a little more, as I’m not as scared, not as tired and not as ‘perfect’.

The first of the ‘Dads’ passes away. My best friend loses her dad to cancer, reminding us all that we are now at the age where family and friends are not ‘forever’.

Within the fortnight, God calls his second great man for the month. My grandad Sean Mansfield is taken, but not without putting up his greatest fight to date. I don’t really know what to say about him, because I still haven’t realized he has gone but also because some people have such ‘outstanding highlights’ that to choose one would be an injustice. My last memory of him is looking up to the altar at my son’s christening and me catching his eye in the congregation. It was a ‘freeze’ moment that seemed to last a lot longer than it actually would have to everyone else, I remember this being ‘one of those moments’.  He couldn’t hear a word of what was going on, but I know that he didn’t care, because at least he was there. I have so much more to write more about him, but that’s a blog for another day.

My boss called me during the funeral, and offered me a part time position for next year. This is my dream job, and will allow me to do ‘what’ I love as well as still being with ‘who’ I love for most of the week. It is time to go back to work, I really think my eldest is sick of me and needs some time to miss me.

Last week I thought I was going to lose my little baby boy. After an accident at the park, he took a turn for the worst and my husband and I found ourselves screaming at the roadside, cradling our son in our arms while we waited for the ambulance. I remember people just walking by, carrying on with what they were doing, and not caring that my baby was falling asleep in front of us. This was the longest wait of my life, and I sincerely hope that this was also the worst day of my life as I don’t think I could handle anything worse. Every night I am dreaming about losing him, and wake up searching for him in my bed. I don’t trust myself anymore and don’t think I can go back to the park. The next day, when the dark clouds had passed, there he was smiling, completely unscathed, with the only evidence of his fall, a tiny graze on his nose. We will carry the scars of his fall for life, just as every other mum and dad have in the years gone before us. In some small way, I don’t want us to forget this, because then we will again start taking life granted, and worrying about things that will never worry about us. Who cares if he whinges, who cares if you haven’t slept, he is awake and he is alive.

After looking at his ‘big boy’ bike for months, My eldest son finally rode down our hallway (no we didn’t complain) shouting ‘I did it, I did it’. He also started wearing no nappies to bed, my first little baby has become a little boy. This week he also told me that he was going to marry me….I will remind him of this when he is 18.

Not the happiest, or most exciting blog but it was one I had to write to get life off my chest. Sometimes your shoulders get heavy, and there’s nothing wrong with shaking them off and letting the crap fall down around your ankles.

Things you should probably know…….

Unbelievably it seems that a large proportion of people I know (and some I don’t know) find themselves in very ‘silly’ and awkward situations on a daily basis. Situations that I feel could be prevented with a little prior warning from a friend I like to call ‘Captain Obvious’.

Every day I hear another story about someone doing or saying something utterly ridiculous, and I want to slap their forehead and say ‘Come on now…did you really think that was a good idea? When was that ever going to be a ‘good idea’? I’m not ashamed to say that many times this person has been me. The following suggestions may or may not be based on true people or events.

Getting drunk at the work Christmas party and deciding that it would be best for everyone if you took on the job of telling the ‘work pest’ that they were in fact a pest, is not going to appear ‘helpful’. Also offering up suggestions for self- improvement and ‘less annoying workplace behaviours’ will not be well received.

Just a guess but he probably doesn’t really love you or want to marry you if you have never actually met him in person, he wants you to transfer $2000 before 2pm or requests you post him your nannas left kidney to a ‘secret’ overseas location.

Buying your three children Sprite Spiders as a ‘treat’ from McDonalds at 9am is probably going to cause you a great deal of grief for the rest of the day.

Driving your car to Friday night drinks and saying ‘If I decide to stay, I’ll leave my car and pick it up in the morning’ is never a good idea. You won’t even be in a fit state to pick the car up in the next week, never mind the next day and then someone will have to drive you to find it while you hold a bucket with your head out the window declaring ‘I’m never drinking again’ and reassuring the driver that you were sure ‘I left it around here somewhere’.

You will never open the new ‘large’ box of Maltesers and just have ‘a few’. You will eat 99 of them and feel as sick as a dog, but will leave 3 solitude balls rolling around just to prove to yourself you haven’t actually eaten the whole box. You will then revisit the pantry just before bed, and say to yourself ‘I may as well have those three now, just to get rid of the box’.

You will never meet the ‘fake friend who you awkwardly bump into again at the shops’ for a coffee. You will pretend that you don’t already have their number as some sort of crappy way out of admitting you just haven’t called them. You will both know that it will not be happening, but will still both actually spend the next agonizing few minutes frantically putting in numbers that are already in your phone.

If you leave the house with no makeup, dirty track pant, no underwear or hairy legs or toes, you will be spotted by someone. You may not realise it at the time, but two weeks later someone will say ‘Hey I saw you at the shops last week, but you looked busy so I didn’t stop you’. This actually means ‘You looked like you had been involved in some type of terrible trauma, I didn’t know where to look.

Your car does not have magic windows. Just because you are driving does not suddenly make you invisible, everyone CAN and will see you when you pick your nose. You are not protected by a ‘nose picking amnesty shield’ have some shame.

Just a thought……………………………………………

Noisy Neighbours

Like them or not they are there, you are stuck with them. At 6am when you think it is safe to run outside in your knickers to sneak the bins out, rest assured one of them will be there to greet your less than glamorous ‘bed head’. When your toddler is hitting you in the driveway, and you finally lose it and shout back like the psycho mums on A Current Affair, there they are again. Like annoying little fleas those pesky neighbours will be there to catch you in your moment of glory. Sometimes it is from these fleeting glimpses that opinions are formed about the people we live beside.

 

For some of you, the word pesky would not spring to mind when describing your neighbours. In many streets and neighbourhoods across the world, your fence friends have been promoted to your greatest friends. My very first neighbours from our childhood home, are just that. They have attended our weddings, collected our mail, eaten with us, loved with us and have cried with us. As our lives have taken twists and turns we still remain part of each other’s story.

 

On moving into my own little family’s first home, I too had high hopes for long lasting relationships, fun times and idle chit chat with wonderful neighbours.  Instead we got  the Canadians (x 2), Mr Jopeck the Body Corporate Rebel, Nasty Bitter Evil Widow and her resident 40 year old virgin, and our personal favourite, the Promiscuous woman next door who we have affectionately nicknamed ‘sheets’. After several failed and unreciprocated attempts at friendliness, I have given up on ever actually getting to know them, and am happy to make up our own stories.

 

Let’s start with the Canadians. They were excitable, friendly young students attending the local university. They presented themselves unexpectedly at my screen door one day while I was vacuuming in my undies (yes I seem to do a lot in my undies) After the initial embarrassment I let them in and we had a cuppa and a chat. Though young and worlds apart, they were lovely and definitely wave worthy. That was until one crazy wild night one of them left her bedroom window wide open and treated us all to an Oscar winning performance with her boyfriend as the best supporting actor. At first I thought it was a cat fight, but when a male cat answered back in a Canadian accent we knew we were in for a long night. I could never look at her in the same way again. Luckily they moved shortly after as I did fear years of avoiding eye contact.

 

Next it was ‘Sheets’. Shortly after moving in we noticed this woman had a large number of male visitors. Sometimes they would miss each other by a matter of minutes. It was after one particularly ‘busy’ weekend that we came home to find her bedroom sheets hung to dry over the front fence, of course we made our own conclusions. Hence the name sheets. For all we know she was just doing a bit of washing, but our story was far more exciting.

 

Mr Jopeck is an older gentlemen who lives three doors down with his much younger asian bride. For all we know they could have been childhood sweethearts who had met in Sydney, but after walking past the window on several occasions and catching sight of Mrs Jopeck giving him a foot massage we have decided that the massage was perhaps part of the arrangement. Both fabulous neighbours. It just so happens Mr Jopeck enjoys a fighting the good fight with the Body Corporate, who are constantly trying to take him to court for placing vulgar looking homemade structures on his balcony.

 

Then there is Nasty Bitter Evil Widow and her resident 40 year old virgin daughter. I had not even met these two little characters until we were looking after my brother’s dog for a few weeks at Christmas time. The dog had only been at the house for a week when we received a hand written letter saying”

 

‘Your dog is making my life a noisy nightmare!’

 

I was willing to let this ride, but there was something about the aggression of the included Exclamation Mark that saw me marching down to their house for a confrontation. Despite the dog never being left outside apparently our dog was making her daughter’s life a noisy nightmare. Her daughter would be in her late forties, never married and still living at home. She did have a boyfriend for a little while, but last we heard her chasing him down the driveway shouting at him for calling her fat and looking at the boobs of the skinny ladies at the beach. One would suggest that perhaps if she stopped writing nasty notes and being horrible that she might be living with her boyfriend instead of her mum.

The one danger in allocating people private nicknames is that one day you are bound to let it slip out at the wrong time. We nicknamed my father in laws friend ‘Burgundy John’ because every time we saw him had had treated himself to a home colouring hair treatment which always developed into a pinkish burgundy colour. He thought he looked fabulous and that it made him look years younger. His opinion is probably all that mattered, but a 60 year old man walking around with pink hair cannot go un-nicknamed. The only problem was after years of calling him ‘Burgundy’ behind his back, we became too comfortable and had even forgotten what his actual name was. We had a major slip up one afternoon and addressed him as ‘Burgundy’ to his face. After some initial confusion and major backtracking, we managed to weasel our way out of it.

Last night we became those ‘Noisy Neighbours’ for the second time this year. Before you let your imagination’s run wild, our ‘noise’ was accidental and most unexpected. We had a knock at the door at 3:30am asking us to turn our music off. In our dazed and confused slumber, we were informed that our garage door was left open and the radio had been blasting throughout our little neighbourhood after turning on via a timer.

 So as I sit here and type someone close by is most definitely referring to us with our own nasty little nickname.   I would be quite happy if it was something along the lines of those ‘Noisy People from number 16’. But something tells me it may have more to do with showing my saggy bum a few too many times!

 ei

 

The ‘Once Only Refusal’

I have always been very independent, a person who hates ever feeling indebted to someone else. Perhaps it’s the cynical side of me that hates the idea of someone ‘giving’ me something for nothing, but I am just plain old uneasy with feeling like I ‘owe’ someone something.

It could be a small as a coffee, or an offer to pay for a meal, but something deep inside me gets an instant urge to ferociously resist the ‘offer of payment’. To me it is a genuine refusal. The act that follows, usually involves a bit of to and fro, a bit of ‘No, It’s on me!’, followed by ‘ No, you’re not paying’, No you paid last time’ and then  some dirty attempts at trying to push  a $20 note down someone’s bra. I usually win the battle by becoming the louder, more forceful participant at the counter, but occasionally I met with the ‘Once Only Refusal’.

What is the ‘Once only Refusal? Well, put simply, it is the participant who when met with an aggressive ‘offer of payment’ responds by pathetically refusing the gift just ‘once’ before giving in. These people are beginning to embarrass me. There are times when the ‘Once Only Refuser’ doesn’t even pretend to put up a half decent fight, there are times when I haven’t even finished my sentence before they have surrendered. Some I’m sure have pulled muscles as a result of stuffing their purses back into their handbags so quickly. Come on, at least pretend to put up a fight! Even if you have no intention of paying, pretend you were going to! Where’s your to and fro!

Then there are the friends who follow the ‘rounds’ system but allow you to shout every time. The ones who pretend they can’t remember who bought the last coffees. I don’t think so people, surely you realise something’s a miss when the last time you bought a coffee it was still only $1.50 for a latte!

Speaking of rounds, I’m sure it would be the same people who when drinking in proper rounds at a pub are the last scheduled round buyer of the night, but who are no-where to be seen when it is their shout. They then reward themselves with the little luxury of a ‘free’ night out.

As the president of ‘Once Only Refusal’ Town, my husband believes that this is not always a calculated attempt at getting freebies, he just says he can’t be bothered with the fakeness of the ‘to and fro’, and he is by nature a very generous person. But I am certain there are people out there who make it their life mission to ‘never put their hand in their pocket’.

I do believe the Aussie Term for these people is the ‘Tight Ass’.

P.s – I am on to you, you know who you are!