Because things are never as they first seem…………………

 

 

Our neighbours having been driving us insane. By neighbours, I mean their dog. It has howled and cried like an old sick, dying man being prodded up the bum with a hot iron for the past 6 months. With probably only a handful of nights that we haven’t been woken up; the tiredness is taking its toll. We are beyond exhaustion. Between the dying dog and our daughter who is still waking up at all hours, going to bed is no longer exciting; we dread it! It is like preparing for battle. We roll over every night and hope for the best.

Every day we wake up after another ‘midnight audience with stinky old dog’ and wish terrible, evil things upon the neighbours and every day we become cowards and say nothing to them. We were certain someone else would have to complain soon enough, so not being whingers; we left it.

Today after a year and a half of living in our ‘new’ house. I decided to pay a visit to the neighbours. No, it wasn’t to be brave and complain about the dog, but to chat about the trees we would be removing from our boundary fence.

I charged up to the door, tension building like you wouldn’t believe. In my head I had constructed a picture of an evil couple who were showing disregard for the human race by allowing their 99 year old mutt to howl at the moon every night. ‘Disrespectful @#$%^&’ my husband and I had called them for months. How can’t they hear this *&%$ dog barking at all hours? Surely if they had no respect for anyone, then taking the trees down was sure to start an argument. I slung my 1 year old on my hip and marched up the driveway.

I didn’t get a chance to knock on the door, sitting outside on the porch, lighting a cigarette was a frail, broken woman. After a year and a half of living next door, this lady had no idea who I was, did not even recognize me. She was talking to and feeding the Magpies. I had to introduce myself, still on the defensive and preparing for an argument. It was then a few moments in that my anger slipped away and was replaced with sadness and guilt. After a just a minute or two my neighbour (who as it turns out is named Chrissy not   ‘ *&%$head)  had spilled her heart out to a stranger. It seems her husband had left her after 30 years of marriage; she was a broken woman and clearly struggling. She confided to a not so close neighbour, though I suspect she would’ve told anyone who would listen that she had been in and out of the mental health hospital; that she felt she had lost her life. Clearly sedated at 3:30 in the afternoon, it became clear why she could not hear her dog barking. She was so highly medicated to escape her pain that a dog barking would have faded into the backround.

Suddenly my anger was gone. There was now a face to the evil person from next door, and more than that there was now a sad, lonely woman trying to claw her way back to life.  Chrissy even mentioned how excited she was that the trees were being removed and how her summer would now be much brighter from her side of the fence. What a shame that it had taken a year and a half to make contact with someone living a few metres away from us.

The guy chopping our trees down came to interrupt our conversation and I must admit I was a little embarrassed when he asked and realised it was the first time we had met. From the outside, their house looked the same as it had a year ago when things were good for them. But behind the fence things had fallen apart.

After being shocked to recently hear of another friend separating from her husband after being together from the age of 15, I was reminded that nothing can be judged from the outside. We certainly know nothing about what goes on behind closed doors.

Recent topics of conversation have also turned to the insecurities we are all feeling as a result of following particular identities on Instagram or Facebook. Each picture, each hashtag and each story just seems to be so perfect. The houses are perfect, the children are perfect. Every second mum is an ‘entrepreneur’. Hey, if you have kids and you’re not running a business then it seems you’re a lazy ass. The one thing I know for sure, is that not once have I posted a photo of the shit things in my life. Never do we see a post of the bills on the fridge that couldn’t be paid. Never do we see a post about how shit peoples’ marriages are, never do we see a post about what they are scared of or what their child ‘can’t do’ this week, or the fat, sugar laden takeaway that we ate for dinner this week.

It’s probably time we got real and at least once a week started posting the shit things. Or better still, that we logged off the social media accounts and instead of liking someone’s posts, wonder about what they aren’t saying or having the guts to post. My bet is they’re probably sitting behind their own fence, with their own barking dog.

In keeping with the ‘keeping it real’ posting I’d like to share a picture of my grotesque front door from my not so renovated house. Because after nearly 2 years here and a year off work, we just had other shit to pay for!

 

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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.

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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.

When the only plan you have left is to have no plan at all

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I have always been a planner. Up until a few years ago my life was displayed as a series of dot points listed on one of those shopping list magnets that you find on the fridge. It read something  like this:  get a part time job tick, finish year 12 tick, get into the course I wanted at uni tick, find a teaching job tick, gain a permanent position tick, have kids by the time I was 30 tick etc, etc, etc.

I would say up until recently that things have pretty much worked out in the way I had planned on my little fridge magnet. I strongly believed that with hard work and persistence you could actually control the people and things around you and could purposefully steer your life towards the final destination you had picked out for yourself. But at aged 32, life jumped out with a stop sign or maybe just a slow- down sign, a sit back and take it easy sign. Life decided that it was time to throw the plan on its head. This week I’ve realised that the only plan you can ever truly have, is no plan at all.

Most of you know that at the beginning of the year my husband and I had decided to try for baby number 3. I had it all planned. Start trying in March pregnant by April (as was the case with baby 1 & 2) that way I could finish off my current school year and still qualify for some maternity leave. The timing would be perfect. Six months down the track, and clearly my senior citizen ovaries are still on a day trip to the bingo. Still no sign of our perfectly timed baby. Excuse me plan-where are you? How dare the plan have not worked! What happens to my list now? Will I have to rewrite it? My husband tells me to relax, that it takes most people a long time to fall pregnant and deep down I know he is right. He is the opposite of me – the ‘non-planner’. After a life time playing football professional football, he learnt at a young age to just take things as they come. He constantly reminds me not to plan too far ahead because you never know what’s around the corner, and of course he is right. I have no right being disappointed. I have two beautiful, healthy sons. I know nothing of the sadness in the hearts of couples who have been trying to fall pregnant for years and have nothing or no one to show for it. I had just not planned on it taking this long. So now my plan is to have no plan at all.

In my high school years I remember thinking how great it was that besides Narelle Maylin’s family, my family was one of the only one’s still intact. We were almost the weird ones. We were close, supportive and all living in the same house. Our house was the one people came to on a Friday night, we liked each other so much we didn’t see the need to leave. This may sound no biggie, but at Parafield Gardens High School it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I hadn’t planned for a time when this wasn’t the case. In fact I could never have imagined back then that we would all be living in different places. If there was one thing I believed back then, it was that family was first. That there was never anything or anyone that could dissolve us. I planned for the day when my own kids were surrounded by my family, Christmas’s, birthdays, good times and bad times.  I hadn’t planned to be here alone.  Now my plan is to have no plan at all.

We had planned to be in a bigger house by now. Our three bedroom townhouse with no yard seems to be closing in on us by the second, as two young boys burn past my feet on their scooters while I’m cooking the dinner. Our tiny dwelling seems to be giving birth to toys. I swear every day that I wake up the toys have multiplied- soon they will swallow us up. Last night I had to remove a matchbox truck, a minion and ninja turtle mask from my bottom before I could get to sleep. We keep waiting and looking. I hadn’t planned on still being here, so now the plan is to have no plan at all.

I had also not planned for a world without my mum in it. A few weeks ago I received a phone call telling me my 54 year old mum had had a heart attack. It felt like a joke.  Are you f&%$# serious was my exact response. Many scenes in our lives come as no surprise, we have usually played out pertinent events in our heads, even rehearsed our responses, but this one I wasn’t prepared for. I hadn’t prepared for the possibility of having already had the last hug from my mum without knowing it, and without having had the opportunity to hold on a few minutes longer. The opportunity to tell her the things a mum should know every day, not just on her last day. I haven’t prepared for a time when I can’t ring her and ask her what to put down in my tax return. I haven’t planned for the time when I go home to Adelaide and she is not there anymore. I haven’t planned for the time when I can’t call her crying and know she will be by my side as soon as she can. Luckily, and despite the poorness of her current mental and physical health, she is still here, alive and kicking with her achy, tingly, smelly diabetic feet. I now have the opportunity to make my last hug count. The day after her heart attack, after a long day at the hospital I returned home to her house for a sleep. We opened the door and looked around at the lounge room left as it was the moment she was put in an ambulance. Her clothes over the back of the chair, her makeup all over the bathroom and her little black shoes beneath her place on the couch. This could’ve been all that was left, and thank God that the image of her little black shoes won’t be the last thing I see of her. I hadn’t planned on ever losing mum, so now the plan is to have no plan at all. Every hug will be the last one.

It is funny how life changes. How what you had planned on never seems to go according to schedule. I am sure my husband is right. It is time to relax, take it easy and take it as it comes. And just hope I am ready for the next detour.

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?

‘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!

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.