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.

and then there were these two…………………

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I love teaching. I could probably count on one hand the times I have woken in the morning and not wanted to go to school, five of these times would have been as a result of repulsive adult behaviour, not that of the students.

I have found that children make the best colleagues in the world. They turn up each day with a clean, new slate. They don’t harbour resentment from the day before when you lost your temper, they sing to you when it is your birthday, and they are never shy of a hug when you are feeling down. They are honest. If you have worn the same shoes 3 days in a row, they will want to know why. If you haven’t washed your hair in a while, they will notice when you finally do and if you are a bitch- they will let you know. If you are absent- they miss you like crazy and in Term 4 when it is time for them to leave, they will remember the time spent with you years after you have forgotten them. It often scares me to think that in reality my students will spend more waking hours with me, than they will with their own parents. In a year they become my family, and above all they become ‘my children’.

Someday’s under the sea of paper work and red tape, you forget that what you are doing matters to someone. You may not have realised it, but as a teacher you make someone’s day ‘every’ day.

This past month Two students have reminded me that I am human. When I doubted my ability, they confirmed it for me. When I thought things were hopeless and that teaching was just getting too hard, they have reminded me it is all worth it. I just wanted to share their stories.

After only seven weeks into the school term, my teaching partner and I were confronted with a rather tricky case of bullying. This young lady was terrified of telling us in case she experienced any backlash but eventually she came forward and we helped her as best as we could. Today in the mad rush just after the school bell she handed me this beautiful letter. To be honest I am not sure what to be more excited about- the gorgeous message or the fact it had full stops, capitals AND paragraphs!!

To Mrs R

Thankyou for being a great teacher yesterday. You and Mr A did an awesome job.

I now feel very comfortable and know to come to one of you when a problem at school pops up out of nowhere.

Thankyou for asking me if I was ok yesterday. i know I can trust the year 6 teachers 100%. Thank you so much for everything. I look forward to spending the year with you guys.

Love Ellie xx

On a sadder note, last month I received the devastating news  that one of my previous students from Adelaide had passed away suddenly at aged 18.  On hearing the news, my heart just ached as it hasn’t quite done before. I didn’t have my own children when I taught her, but knew that after three years in my class that she had become like my own. After three years of sharing everyday with this gorgeous girl, it was incomprehensible that something had taken her away from a life that she hadn’t yet lived and was fighting so hard to keep. Her smile was contagious and not since have I met more gentle, loving and compassionate soul. As a Catholic, I have always believed that we go somewhere else after death and have always sought comfort from this belief,  but I must admit that on hearing this news that my beliefs were challenged significantly. I can swallow the heaven stuff when it comes to the those who have lived a good life, but for the first time this explanation was just not good enough. it made no sense that a young life could be here one day talking to a good friend of mine (The fabulous Ms Ellem) in the shopping centre, remembering the fun time she she spent with us in year 6 and then be gone forever a short few days later. For days after I couldn’t get this young girl out of my thoughts. If I felt like this as her teacher, how the hell would you go on as her mother. Being interstate, I couldn’t attend her funeral and feel a great deal of guilt about this, but while searching my email for some old units of work I found these emails she had written to me in the years after I had moved away. Writing was never her strength but she certainly made up for this in personality. Just as she always could in life, she brought a smile to my face again in death. (love how she spelt report!)

Subject: Re: Jaymie report
Date: Wed, 5 May 2010 16:14:42 -0700

heeyy what have you been up i love high school so much i have made heaps of friends i am doing good are you still teaching  whaen are you coming back down
 
love you
Jaymie xxx

and this one……………………………..

Subject: Jaymie report
>
> Dear Mrs B,
>
> I got my report on the 24th of june and mum and dad were so proud of
> me and i hope you are to. 

I got
 religion c with my effort being good
english c with my effort being good and writing satisfactory
maths c with my effort being good
society and environment b with effort being outstanding
 science b with my effort being outstanding 

design and technology c with my effort being satisfactory

 health c with my effort being good

the arts c with my effort being satisfactory
 
 music c with my effort being good

 italian c with my effort being satisfactory

p.e c with my effort being satisfactory
I am so proud of my reprot
 Love Jaymie

What am I thinking….I could never leave this job.

Have I become one of ‘Those’ Mums?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What If our children ruled the world…..

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What If our children ruled the world?

We have lived in our smallish town house, in our quiet, safe suburb for three years now. In that three years we have added two beautiful boys to our family and have seen some fairly memorable neighbours come and go (you can read more about them in my October 2013 post titled ‘Noisy Neighbours…including how one of them got the nickname ‘sheets’). We have also had many neighbours who have been here living just  metres away from us since the very beginning whom I still wouldn’t recognize from a bar of soap if I saw them in them at the shops. This was until last week. I cannot take credit for this, this didn’t happen because of me the ‘adult’ but because of the actions of my two little boys, ‘The Children’. The ones we say have a lot to learn from us ‘The Adults’.

Isn’t it terrible that after three years of living literally next door it has taken until now to have a proper  chat with our neighbours? Not that I haven’t tried. When we first moved in I would regularly try and befriend our immediate next door neighbour, who still to this day will unashamedly pretend she hasn’t seen me when we pass on the path and who I have caught quickly running into the house when we pull up the driveway (Yes crazy lady…I have seen you and know what you are up to!) who knows why?  Maybe my husband is right and she has heard me calling her by her nickname ‘sheets’. So I sort of just gave up, If they couldn’t be bothered then I wouldn’t keep trying either.

The shame of all this was that the neighbours had children too. When we first moved in my boys were little, but now they are old enough to stand at the fence, peeking through the gaps as the neighbourhood kids ride up and down the driveway shouting out in excitement. They are still that little bit too young to go outside without me, so last week I turned to my eldest and said ‘ do you want to go out?’ He was so excited, and ran to the gate. He is a shy child and I guess in new social situations, I am shy too, but luckily his little baby brother was there to break the ice.

Within minutes he was running up and down the street squealing with laughter. The older girl from a few doors down was walking around with my youngest on her hip and later asked if she could take the boys in  to meet her mum, who apparently loved babies. Feeling a little bit awkward I said yes….. and there you have it, it was that simple, of course it is normal to take a random child inside your home to meet your mum!………No over thinking, no over analysing- after 3 years we were talking to the neighbours. For the record she was lovely. She shared lots about herself in just a few short minutes and you could tell she was a good, loving and proud mum.

My eldest hasn’t stopped talking about our meeting since and keeps asking when we are going to play with our friends again. I must admit I am a little embarrassed that we hadn’t done it sooner and that it took children to break down our barriers. You see children look at the world simply. They don’t see the awkwardness that we see, they don’t hold grudges, they forgive freely, and  they make friends easily…because through the eyes of a child….if we talk and play nicely just once, then we are best friends.

This got me to thinking about how when it comes to living and being part of society, maybe the kids have this stuff right, and we have it all wrong? It is only when adults start to interfere with their pure, untainted ideologies that things start to fall apart for them.

So If our children ruled the world then maybe ……………………………

Friends could be made with just a smile and a shared ride on a scooter.

After a big tantrum, we could just have a nap and all the mean words that were shared would be forgotten when we both woke up.

Any injury or hurt feeling ever caused in the world could be fixed with a Peppa Pig Band Aid and a magic kiss.

Hugs and I love you’s are all we would need to start  the day, not 6 strong lattes before lunchtime.

Self esteem would be based on who had the best Thomas the Tank Engine Tshirt…not on who was the skinniest or more most beautiful on the playground.

If someone took too long at the ATM we could just push them out of the way and say ‘ My Turn’.

When food was absolute rubbish at our favourite restaurants we could just throw it on the floor in disgust and then a new option would magically appear in front of us- no questions asked.

When we’d had a big day, someone would just pick us up while we were kicking and screaming and put us to bed.

We would talk to more strangers, and smile back when someone noticed our beautiful puffy cheeks.

We would also be a hell of a lot more honest. If someone farted, we would have more people claiming them proudly and cheering after.

When we noticed a loved one putting on weight we could just slap them on the belly and say ‘baby?’

I think If kids ruled the world, we could just learn a thing or two.

P.s ‘Sheets’ still lives next door……..and still continues to hide, maybe I should send the boys over!

 

 

 

 

 

When inclusivity becomes exclusion

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Despite legislation mandating that students with disabilities receive an education equal to that of any other student (Disability Discrimination Act 1992) the inclusion of students with Special Needs into the mainstream classroom is still a controversial debate in many staffrooms and school car parks.

Whilst such conversations are generally only had behind closed doors, as any opinion against ‘inclusivity’ would carry heavy consequences, those on the front lines are not always confident in their ability to best cater for our most vulnerable learners, resulting in a negative culture of exclusion developing in our schools.

A school close to home is currently struggling to accommodate for a spike in the enrolment of students with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). From a peer point of view it seems that teacher attitude towards these types of learners is fast becoming the greatest hurdle in achieving true inclusivity.

‘He shouldn’t be here’,

‘This isn’t the place for him’

‘It’s not fair on him’

These are among the more positive comments to be heard from the mouths of teachers and Teacher Aids in the past few months.

One particular child who lives with a co-morbid diagnosis, presents with a range of violent and unsafe behaviours and is struggling to ‘fit in’ to his first year of Prep. He currently attends school for just two hours a day, and last week within an hour of being in the classroom has struck a fellow student directly in the face, bitten two teachers, threatened to kill two classmates and kicked and punched the teacher aids.

The school appears to be doing all of the ‘right’ things to promote inclusivity for this child, but I do wonder if the lack of teacher training, paired with escalation of negative teacher attitudes is contributing in some way to this declining situation.

Parents are starting to whisper in the car park, teachers are up in arms at having to be subjected to such dangerous conditions and staff are losing patience. The requirement to ‘include’ this child without the proper training, and evidence based programs in place is fast becoming the reason for this child’s ‘exclusion’ from our school environment. By pretending to ‘include’ this child, we have ultimately contributed to his exclusion. Parents have already turned their backs on him, students are scared of him and despite their best intentions, teachers are fearful.

Who is to blame here? You see the problem cannot be that the child is just ‘not fitting in’, or ‘it isn’t the right place’, but more that the school has not genuinely adapted and properly prepared to accommodate for the arrival of the child. The school was reactive instead of proactive and action plans were being made as situations came to a head. A lack of current knowledge and evidence based practice is to blame.

When I hear people say, ‘This isn’t the place for him’ it drives me wild.

Where do they suggest ‘is’ the place for him? At home? Should he stay at Kindy until he reaches an age at which he is mentally able to cope with the demands of the school environment? He could be shaving before he makes it to Year 1!

Special school programs when they are available and within a reasonable proximity to the family, are limited in space and are often only able to consider Intellectual Disabilities as criteria for entry.

Students with ASD are being left out in the cold. Too left of centre for the mainstream, but to ‘normal’ for special settings. With the prevalence rate of ASD currently sitting at around 1 in 80 students, isn’t it about time teacher attitudes got a kick up the bum, and teacher training programs and systemic funding be modified to reflect this need in our classrooms?

Better late than never…VBA Award Post

 

 

It has taken me a week or two but have finally found some free time to respond to an ever so thoughtful nomination for a VBA or Versatile Bloggers Award (yes, I know..sounds suspiciously like an acronym for a visible underwear warning or dirty disease) . I am not claiming to be ultra busy or anything, just that Reality TV is so good at the moment, I just couldn’t pull myself away from The Box. Why must they start EVERY good show in the same month at the same time! (yes I realize I am sounding very much the 14 year old right now) 

I must be completely honest and admit in the past I have failed miserably when nominated for any of the Blogging awards. The cut and past part just seems to be so much bother (..lazy right?) and then before you know it, weeks have past and you’ve forgotten to do it. So last week a little birdy tweeted a VBA nomination my way, and there was nowhere to run. This little birdy was the ultra talented writer/ mummy/ wife and knower of all things wine mammasvida.com.au. Head over to her page for some good, honest observations on life, wine, food, parenthood and the world game.

So the conditions of this grand prize require me to share seven things that you might not know about me, and despite my tendency to over share, this part was really tricky, So Here goes.

1. I am a terrible, terrible, terrible  nail biter. Yes I hear you…I may as well lick a toilet bowl- sadly this doesn’t turn me off it, nothing could. This addiction gets so bad that I will sometimes have  false nails put on to give my actual nails a break from the abuse. Worse still is that I also make it my nights mission to chew the Acrylic ones off too. I even had falsies put on the day before I was due to give birth, and managed to chew them all off  and spit them around the labour ward like little pink bullets, all within the first hour of arriving at the hospital. 

2. I once had a romantic dream about ‘Ridge’ from the Bold and The Beautiful. Yes that’s right ..the original Big Man of Forrester Creations, Ron Moss. I was even embarrassed for myself when I recalled this horrid event the next day. I don’t even find him attractive in real life, so I really don’t now how this occurred. Come to think of it, I’m still a little embarrassed now. 

3. Candles, candles and more candles. I just looooooooove them. Don’t care from where, what, how much, the smell, the colour, the vessel, whatever….just light them up baby! This was even going to be my ‘failed’ business idea no.3 ‘ making and selling soy candles’ but as you may have read in my last post…..my business sense is not my greatest asset. 

4. I use to lick the flavouring from Chicken Crimpy’s and BBQ shapes and put them back in the box. …can’t really defend this revolting revelation, the more details given, the more incriminated I will become.

5. I am a socially awkward idiot. Despite previously enjoying a busy social lifestyle and occupation, I have always experienced a great deal of anxiety in social situations. I am usually nervous for days leading up to events involving meeting new people and then end up trying to over compensate, saying something unintentionally offensive and spend the following week in a shame spiral wishing I could rewind and take my foot from my mouth. My awkwardness I am sure has at times been misinterpreted as standoffishness…when inside I am really shitting myself with nerves. However, after countless school assemblies, am totally okay speaking in front of hundreds of strangers, particularly about topics such as 1. toilet paper on the roof of boys toilets, sandwiches hidden in toilets and children looking under toilet doors. Seems I’m your ‘go to girl’ for all things toilety.

6. I have a burning desire to visit Pompeii. Since my Year 9 teacher showed me pictures of this amazing place as a teenager, I have always longed to visit. There is just something so amazing about a civilization frozen in time, with little warning. A little childhood obsession, that I hope will come to fruition one day. Actually as they say, youth is wasted on the young. Why is it when you travelled as a teenager, the pub was a more attractive option than the Vatican? I would love to travel again through ‘adult’ eyes. There is so much of the world that I wished I had of experienced with my husband, I guess our time will come again in a few years.

7. I have NEVER seen the movie ‘Dirty Dancing’. This one is truly horrific. Apparently it is up there with the the worst sins against women born in the 70’s /  80’s. Most people can not believe this and are actually driven into a rage of disbelief upon me revealing this secret.  It is now my life’s goal to avoid seeing this movie for as long as humanly possible. There is no real explanation either, I just haven’t. 

So there you have it, I am sure some of these are more of a surprise than others. 

Now, as I have been bouncing around in Blogger’s World avoiding these awards for some time, I am too embarrassed to nominate fellow Blogger’s in case I nominate someone who I have forgotten to respond to. Apologies.

So instead, Now that I have exposed myself…it is your turn. Come on and share the one thing about you that many people would not know?

Have a great week!