I have married Captain Underpants

Today, for the second time in our relationship, my husband was caught outside in his underwear. At 7:30am this morning, this what not a funny event. At one point he was so furious he could not even bring himself to look at me. By 8:30pm this evening, it was one of the funniest memories I will ever have of him. You have probably already gathered that I am being blamed for this early morning ‘hiccup’. Anyway, you be the judge, here’s how it happened.

 Today was my ‘working day’, which as any mum would know is the only day of the week that the children are guaranteed to sleep in. Any other day you could poke a stick at, they are there tapping on your arm at 5.30am asking to watch the cartoons. To which you reply ‘Mate, even the cartoons aren’t awake yet, go back to sleep’. This little sleep in led to a cascading series of late events. Late showers, late breakfast, late dressing and a few little tantrums thrown in to remind you that they are feeling rushed. By the time I was finally ready to walk out the door, I was feeling more than a little frazzled.  Knowing my husband (Mr K) had a spare hour up his sleeve dedicated to getting himself ready in peace, quiet and solitude, I asked for some help in getting the kids into the car.

 Mr K obliged and proceeded out towards the carport. I followed shortly after with my keys in hand, turned around and locked the door behind me. This is just an automatic action, after previously having left the door open a few times. I remember looking at Mr K as he put the kids in the car thinking ‘Why is he outside in his undies?’ But then quickly dismissed it, gave him a kiss and hopped in the car.

 We waved to Mr K as he stood judging my driving ability and shaking his head at me as I avoided riding up the curb. I pointed through the windscreen to remind him about his undies, but he shook his head as though he didn’t understand. It was a short drive to the Kindy, and I had just pulled up to the front door, with Son 2 in my arms and Son 1 escaping through the Gate, when I look to my left to see a freaky, frantic, half naked man puffing with fear and disbelief shouting ‘Are you serious?’ as he cleared the gate in one huge jump. I was confused and a bit scared.

 I still didn’t know what had happened at this stage. I looked at him and realized it was my husband, but still hadn’t connected how and why he had appeared so quickly at the Kindy without a car, why he had no shoes on and was sweating like a pig and why he was in his underwear. In a state of confusion I asked ‘Are you coming in?’ ( kindy) He looked at me with disgust and jumped to hide inside the car. It was then I realized something wasn’t right. I opened the car door and there he was visibly shaking like a plateful of frightened jelly…a half- naked plate of jelly in the Kindy car park.

 After some expletives and a quick censored summary of the event, I was enlightened to what had occurred. As I was pulling out of the driveway to leave for Kindy, I had  locked Mr K out in the street, in his underwear with no mobile phone, no keys and no way of getting back into our house. His only hope was to do the 700m dash from our house, past the local primary school (with kids already at the crossing) across the main road and over the Kindy fence, barefoot and in his undies. He really had no guarantee of catching me before I left, but hoped if he ran fast enough I would still be there, sparing him the awkward situation in which he would have to try and gain honest entry to a childcare facility to use the phone. I can see it now ‘Yeah right naked guy with no shoes on…..sure we will let you in to use our phone, you’re not a safety risk at all!’.

 

Looking back on this now, I am horrified to imagine what the children at the school were thinking seeing this weirdo run past naked with no shoes on. I’m sure there were a few mums shielding their children’s eyes and avoiding uncomfortable questions.

 The best part of this story is that this is not the first time this has happened to him. So the sheer look of terror that plagued his face this morning, was a sharp reminder of how quickly this could’ve turned ugly….again. It was almost a post- traumatic stress reaction.

 Back when we first moved to the Gold Coast, My husband flew up a few weeks early to get a head start in setting up our apartment. Not knowing a single soul in the state, he was left to unpack boxes one night in our six story apartment block. As some will know, many apartment blocks have a communal rubbish chute located on each floor. So again, in his underwear Mr K thought it a good idea to go and empty the bins. Not realizing the doors to the apartments were spring loaded, he found himself stranded, alone and in his underwear and locked outside of our new home. With no one to call for help or for clothing he was left with 2 choices. Sleep in the hallway and hope help arrives or perform a rather risky Spiderman impersonation up the side of the balcony and hope to hell the balcony doors were open. He chose the latter and made his way up several storeys in only his jocks. One can only imagine what would have happened if he had been caught by neighbours scaling balconies in some old jocks, that definitely had a few holes in the wrong places.

 So you see my dilemma, was it his fault for being outside in his underwear again? Or mine, for being so frazzled that I locked the door on him? You be the judge.

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Time for some ‘small’ changes around here

For many people the 1st of January delivers hopes and dreams of a better year to come. For some of us it evokes delusional thoughts. Like a red rag to a bull, it signals the time to make outrageous commitments to impossible and unearthly actions. Like some kind of fat, immoral and unfit super hero ( Slothman? Posturkeybum-woman?  Dranktoomuchwineandcider-woman? ) you commit to losing 203kg in 3 weeks but decide to actually start this crusade when the Christmas food runs out ( because the chocolates were a gift and it would be rude not to eat them). You decide to run a marathon when the only previous running experience you have involves running for the bus. Of course there is also those who swear that this is the year they will do something to help out humanity, because liking a Facebook page that claims to stop cat’s being turned into seat warmers if it gets 99,000 hits no longer counts.

 

I’m not here to mock the efforts of my fellow man. Yes, I am some of the above. I will also be relieved when the Chrissy chocolates are finally gone, I cannot sit by and watch them shout helplessly from the plate ‘eat me’. It is of particular annoyance when the Quality Streets have whittled down to the last crappy toffee penny’s and that unidentified brown one that no one likes, and you feel like you have to eat them just to get a clean slate. I will also try and commit to running a half marathon, which may turn into just the 10km depending on how much time I can give to training , but at least this is attainable as I already love to run. But these are silly and superficial resolutions that ultimately will not affect anyone if they are not achieved.

 

 I mentioned in my last blog, I want to make some big changes around our house and in our lives. I think by December I felt exhausted. Despite 2013 delivering me some of my most precious moments in life, it also handed me my worst. I was tired of the year and felt a real need for change. Not so much physical change, but a mental one. I want to start the New Year fresh and try to hold onto to some of that ‘January’ enthusiasm and positivity well into the year……well, at least June, or maybe this is too optimistic.

 

By February when most have returned to work and the daily grind begins to rear its ugly head, it becomes easy to slip back into our negative and unappreciative ways. Some events of last year made me sit up and appreciate. In those moments of clarity, nothing was more important than having people around me. The material world faded away and I was left feeling like more time should be spent working on ‘us’ and not the objects around us. I want to bottle this feeling and carry it with me, just to open the lid now and then and remember how I felt in my ‘shitty’ moments when I forget and lose my way. So that is what I want to do this year. I want to work on making life simple, stripping back our day to day lives, back to the core of what makes us happy, and that is family, love and the simple things in life.

 

Here’s what I am thinking:

 

I want my husband and I to save our ‘best’ for each other, not for complete strangers or for people at work. Let me explain. You know when you bump into someone accidentally and without seeing who it was you bumped, you provide a fabulously heartfelt apology? And then after realizing it was your husband or brother you say ‘ohh’ almost to say’ if I knew it was you I wouldn’t have bothered’. We tend to use our best manners, give our best compliments and allocate more patience to those who mean least to us, than we do for those closest to us.

 

I want our house to have less luxuries during ordinary time. I want my children to be excited by a trip to get ice cream, not expectant. This really hit home on a recent trip out to a Christmas show where we offered our son an ice-cream and he politely turned it down. I was left thinking ‘what is wrong with this kid? There were plenty of other children brimming with excitement at choosing their flavours and my son was here not even wanting one. It was because it wasn’t special anymore, ice-cream has become an everyday luxury for many children these days. Not by fault of their own, but by fault of their parents comfortable circumstances. I was particularly moved by a mother who had taken her children to the same show and had packed a picnic, and her two small children were quite content eating bananas and drinking cordial. I wondered if she was a single mum who had saved for months to take her children to a show that we decided to attend at the last minute. How lucky we are.

 

 

I want us to be more ‘present’. Instead of being behind a camera lens every time there is a memorable moment, how about actually seeing it through our own eyes and making a real memory? I am sick of being out and about and seeing parents watching their children grown up through their Iphone camera. In the line-up to see Santa this year I even saw a mother who was shouting so hard at her children to look at the camera, she hadn’t even realised that they weren’t really enjoying themselves at all, the smallest was bawling her eyes out. The mother kept persisting and I’m sure she would’ve posted the sensational picture online with some caring and loving hashtag about how nice the day was with her children. In reality they had a crap time being yelled at so mum could take a great picture for Facebook.

 

This leads me to another Iphone related resolution. There is no need to constantly check our phones to see who has made contact with us in the 2 seconds since we last looked. Our children do not need to look up to show us the tower they have just proudly built, and have to wait in line for us to check our Twitter accounts. Should they be coming second place to our fake online lives? Could we just wait until they aren’t in the room or have gone to bed? I’m sure if there is a major world event, we will find out in good time. It makes me sad to watch kids looking up to see if mum and dad were watching them swing themselves on the playground like ‘big boys’ for the first time only to see mum and dad staring like zombies at a plastic screen that appears to be constantly attached to their hand. This surely sends our kids the message that this plastic thing is more important to them. So whilst I cannot promise not to check my phone during the day, I do want to try and make sure that If I am missing out on a moment with my boys, that it is for something worthy. Give them their moments, there will come a day where they won’t ask us to look anymore.

 

I want to try and get out for a few more social drinks every now and then. I don’t want to look at others with envy when I hear they have been out socializing. Sometimes you need to find out for yourself that you would rather be at home and that the hangover isn’t worth it.

 

Finally, I want to spend more time worrying about people who also make it their job to worry about me. Someone once told me it is time to let go a little when ‘They are a priority in your life, but you are an afterthought in theirs’. Such true words. You can’t force people to care as much as you do about things in life, but you can certainly be less disappointed when it happens. The people who will sit by my side and hold my hand in the end are the people I want to appreciate this year.

 

 

 

So this is what I want us to try this year. I say try, because of course we aren’t perfect and a few falls are necessary on the way to actual change. Even if we can do a little bit of each of these, it will be an improvement. What are your resolutions for 2014?

 

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Not for the ‘Clean Ones’

It’s been a while,  but after a funeral, a horse race and an assignment deadline, my time is now my own. 

I had many seriously serious and thought provoking topics to share with you, but at this moment in time I can not be bothered with anything that requires thought or editing. My eyeballs are tired, my mind is impressionable. I could even be convinced to change electricity companies by a low paid student at this point in time. Do you know that feeling when you know you need to write something but your brain is saying:

‘Sorry, I’m spent. Only nonsense lives here now, but if you come back later some crap might be home?’. In my moment of nonsense please afford me the time to share with you the contents of my second kitchen drawer. Why is she writing about a kitchen drawer you say? 

Well In the midst of this very stressful week. my helpful husband thought it would be an ideal time to discuss the mess in our second kitchen drawer. He who clearly has so much spare time, he can even waste minutes of it prodding through objects and complaining about the outrageous contents. His exact words muttered bravely under his breath ‘ This second drawer is burning me‘.  Well clearly it was not burning him enough to clean it up himself. I’m sure somewhere in the back benches of his male brain he believed the ‘mess’ was mine. The truth of this matter is, I am a ‘sl

ight’ hoarder. There are parts of my life that are immaculate and organized, but there are also places that just work better messy. My make up bag, my bathroom cabinet, often my wardrobe  (or as my husband calls it ‘ The Mountain’and always my second kitchen drawer, or as the rest of the world would know it the ‘junk drawer’. 

So here it is, the exact contents of my junk drawer: Of course there were also the items that were too big too fit into the top draw but I’m sure you are all familiar with these little fellas! (Oversized tongs, spatulas, egg cups-cant remember the last time I ate ‘toasted soldiers’, I believe it was 15 years ago and of course all of the other ‘ugly’ serving stuff that can never be seen by visitors as it doesn’t match your tea towels) 

Drum Roll…………………

1. Crumpled Christmas Napkin with a bit of candy cane stuck to it-  no I’m not super organized, it was from last year.

2. Broken light bulb…that is all

3. Bottle brush from when my 3 year old was a baby..My rationale is that despite it quite obviously  looking like it houses a small colony of  Ebola Virus we may need it if the new one is stolen by a rebellious and ‘lost’ neighbourhood baby.

4. A stick from an old flag. Can’t even remember why I had a flag, or what it was for. Actually would love to know my thought process the day I decided ‘That old flag stick might come in handy one day’.

5. A container that I accidentally stole from childcare. It belonged to another child, but I was too embarrassed to bring it back after believing so adamantly that it was ours. I can’t even use it, I feel like the ‘Kung Fu Panda on the side of it is judging me for my petty theft.

6. Mini Version of the book  ‘We’re Going on a Bear Hunt’ That is definitely not my fault.

7. Sample pack of Organic Rosehip Skincare. Claims to give an ‘Ageless Facelift’. This was a gift from a lady at work who felt terrible  that I had given her a gift but didn’t have one for me. Fairly certain it was from a magazine as it has those jelly glue bits on the back. Feel guilty about wanting to throw it away, as the lady on the package actually looks 20 years older than me, I don’t want to ‘catch that’.

8. Tap fitting- My husband has a lot to answer for with this inclusion. ‘ Mr I don’t put random objects in that drawer’.

9. Party Popper- Have always had a soft spot for New Years Eve. Who knows, I may get all nostalgic one afternoon when the boys are in bed.

10. Rubber band- Always handy.

11. Unidentified sharp thing- not looking for exactly what it is, I may lose a finger trying to identify it.

12. An old ‘Coles Supermarket’ magazine claiming to feed my family for less than $10 per week. Was hoping to try this at some stage but then saw the recipes. I’m sorry Curtis Stone, but having mince 7 nights in a row may cause constipation.

Well that is all. Will be back after some sleep, some cider and a restful weekend.

Happy Friday Everyone:)

P.s – Yes it is an actual photo of the drawer. Shame, Shame. 

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The ‘Once Only Refusal’

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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!

Things that made me laugh@….the bar

 

After two failed attempts at re-living my ‘Party Days’ I have decided to take off my heels, sling them over my shoulder and call it a day. (then go home and put on my grey trackpants and my husband’s socks) Those who now me may say why? You’re still young? Well after two nights out in the last few weeks, I’ve seen enough to keep me going for another few years.

 

So here they are…the things that made me laugh @………………. The bar

 

Farting, Drunk Courtesan :  My friend and I were approached on a Dodgy nightclub dance floor by a man who was so drunk he had involuntary eye closure, and a shoulder that had obviously fallen victim to his nineteenth beer and was now scraping the floor. The drunk shoulder sloping was so profound that you did even look down at his hand to see what he was holding. He then piped up with his most charming slur ‘ Waaaart are yeeeewwwww two ladies doin on ya own?’ To which we informed him our husbands were at the bar. He then released the most vicious and vile fart, staggered on the spot, then blamed us for the said fart, referred to us as ‘stinky’ then left the scene of the crime. Now I know we are no longer the ‘Belle’s of the ball, but I also don’t believe we have hit our ‘fartworthy’ years either.

 

Young 18 year old on her first night out: You’ve seen her. She’s never really been out, never even really watched Video Hits because of the partial nudity. Just started her Bachelor of Arts, borrowed her mums red frock and hasn’t quite worked out how to dress in the city. Dancing provocatively but in a ‘I’ve just escaped the cult and I’m making up for lost time’ type of way. It was so bad, but for some reason you just had to keep watching. Should we stop her? Or should we buy her another drink?

 

3. Over confident, underwhelming middle aged man who after being turned down, gets nasty and calls you a stuck up cow. Mmmm….or we just have no reason to speak with you? There are certain conversations in life that can easily be identified as pointless, meaning you can tell pretty early that you will gain nothing from the interaction so are better off putting it down quickly. A bit like a much loved family pet, it is more humane to stop the pain immediately, rather than listen to dribble for the next ten minutes only to have it all end up in tears.

 

4. Over apologetic drink spiller: Pretty self -explanatory. Spills fourteen litres of beer on your foot then spends the next 20 minutes apologizing in fear a fight will break out.

 

5. Under apologetic drink spiller: More annoying than his over apologetic counterpart because they are more upset about having to line back up at the bar again than they are about turning your top into a possible candidate for a wet t-shirt competition.

 

5. 50 year old woman who has been separated from work colleague’s but is having such a great time decides to find ‘new mates’ so she doesn’t have to go home. It doesn’t really matter who they are or how old they are but proceeds to tell them how much she loves them.

 

6. Drunk friend: The one who reveals intimate embarrassing details about their innermost feelings but who will have no memory of even eating her entrée at the dinner beforehand. Usually followed up by a regretful, early morning text which they hope will give some indication to the extent of their behaviour ‘I hope I wasn’t too bad last night?’ I ‘m sure we have all been this person.

 

I admit It was fun. I still love to get dressed up and have a dance with the girls. But now I fear my fun is had at the expense of others, when years ago…it was me spilling the drinks. I also look at my husband and feel so lucky that I no longer have to prowl the night scene looking for love, because let’s face it, most people are just out looking for that someone special and this is why they turn into vulnerable embarrassing humans, because love makes you vulnerable. This is why going out partying loses its glamour when you’ve already found him or her and they are a million times better than anyone you will meet at a bar (unless of course you did meet at a bar). I look beside me (or will when he gets home) and feel content that we have already found each other. I love him when he’s here and miss him when he’s gone. (Just in case he does read this on his way home, I’ll already be asleep….. I love him even more when he sorts the kids out in the morning and lets me sleep)

 

 

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Ten days in… Time to whinge

Ten days into our month away from home and I am already about to have a big fat whinge!!!
 
Firstly there is no Internet access at the house we are in..I’m sorry but have we returned to 1990’s? If this is the case you won’t mind me listening to a wet wet wet album, watch four weddings and a funeral and wear a hair scrunchie. I am forced to post a blog from my phone and my fingers are too fat for the keys… I started writing this 4 years ago and am still going! Apparently the tapping noise that the keys make when I’m typing is also very annoying to my husband. Really sorry about that… I would hate to interrupt your viewing of tonight’s episode of ‘Great Australian Bakeoff’. 
 
Life without the Internet is tough, how will I confirm that I am still in electronic existence? #firstworldproblem
 
Yesterday we noticed a sign on a pub window saying $9 schnitzels. My Husband showed more delight towards this deal than was exhibited on our wedding day. How could I deny him of this culinary treat. So off we went to cash in on our super schnitzel special. Expectations were high. After ordering it turned out that to get the special you had to sit in the front bar…(1 metre to our right) I had already sat back in my seat like a coward after paying full price . A quick discussion was had ( through gritted teeth, tutting and aggressive whispering ) and it was decided that I would have to do the walk of Shame back to the counter to ask for a refund… Yes me!!! It was also agreed that we should move the metre to get the discount. Was so embarrassed, and then spent the next half hour avoiding eye contact with all staff members. My husband said this was the best schnitzel he’d ever eaten. What a pity, as we won’t be going back!
 P.s – why do they put the schnitzel on top of the chips!Image
 
Would whinge some more… But my thumb is sore. Will be back when we have acquired some wifi… If all else fails I guess there is McDonalds.