Your Number's Up

It's been a while

2010-07-06T16:23:00.004+10:00

A while? 4 months in fact since my last blog. Anyone would think I had fallen off the face of the earth. For those that care, I am in fact alive and well.

Crash is enjoying school and is now at the top level of his readers. He had to get to level 8 by the end of the year and he's there now. He reads everything, including my emails so I might have to start writing in code. I won't write backwards though as he sometimes reads things backwards without trying. We had a school disco recently and Crash was up on the stage getting his groove on. So was I sitting on the sidelines watching. All I needed was a plastic cup of booze and I was set.

Rowdy has now turned 4. Rowdy is an interesting little character. He's been having extreme mood swings and causing us no end of grief. We've put it down to the hormone surge that seems common at this age. At one point when his head was spinning 360 I just thought he was an alien sent to torment the daylights out of us. Rowdy is going to be at preschool 4 days a week after the school holidays. Here's hoping he's ok with it. We even started a reward chart to try and improve his behaviour - he gets a star for getting out of bed happy. I'd like that for me, but instead of a star, perhaps I could have a bottle of wine. Imagine that, every time I got out of bed happy, a bottle of wine would appear on my doorstep. Cool. Needn't be wine. It could be chocolate, or new shoes, or a leave pass for a night out. I'm not fussy.

And so it's school holidays. As of this year our whole life revolves around the school timetable. It's taken some getting used to. Crash is home for 2 weeks and after things to do. I'm having some time off and tomorrow we're going to the movies to see Marmaduke while Rowdy goes to preschool. Shhhhh, it's a secret, we're not telling him because he'll crack the shits and his head will spin. Later in the week we'll go bowling, or fishing, or whatever. And then there are all the kids who want to have play dates with Crash. Yeah, I think we'll fill the days pretty easily.

Train Ride

2010-03-06T13:17:00.002+11:00

Aaah yes public transport. How I missed it. (to be read with a huge amount of sarcasm).

My car was being serviced on Wednesday so Mr Chic kindly drove me to work. I then declared that I would walk to the station and catch the train home in the evening. Clearly I was on some kind of mind-altering drugs when I suggested this. It ended up being a 25 minute walk to the station, most of the walk there was no path, but merely rocks. At one point the road seemed to be vertical and I was thankful that I was walking downhill. My feet were not happy, my knees were not happy. But I made it to the station with plenty of time for the train.

I decided the safest place to stand on the station was in front of the station police-station (oh yes I'm serious). The station isn't that rough really, I'd just never been there before, well not for about a million years.

The train arrives and I choose a seat next to sleeper-boy, disappointed I didn't have a window seat. The train was an express and in 2 stations I'd be getting off. However that was in 45 minutes time so I really wanted a window seat and space to myself. Next station and I had a seat to myself, a window seat and it was on the left hand side of the train. Perfect. Now I could relax.

And then I noticed the music, and the clinking of bottles. Was I aboard the electric pub train? *sigh* ok, so the music is loud but it's ok, actually it was a mix of rock music which almost prompted me to ask the owner what the song was as I was almost enjoying it. Almost.

We meandered along the edge of the water, such a pretty view, past the station the size of my car, I day-dreamed about living across the river, totally isolated from the world. I thought the train should slow down so I could try to spot fish amongst the oyster racks and enjoy the tranquility. The tranquility in my mind anyway. The background noise to this was a hard rock song which I believe went something like "die motherf***er die", yes that did seem to be the common reoccuring line.

In and out of tunnels which totally took me back to my childhood of catching the same trainline to the city in the school holidays with my dad. I was always excited by the tunnels. Now they just make my ears hurt. Or perhaps that was the music.

Over the rail bridge and we start the climb up the hill. More tunnels. Oh a new song. Hmmmm much like the previous one. I knew I should have brought my ipod. Sweet relief, the music stops, oh he's on a phone call, no the conversation is not even interesting.

I look out the window, such beautiful bushland we live so close to, it goes for miles, you can hardly see the last bushfire's damage.

The phone call ends, the music starts back up, 'shhhht' a drink gets opened. I could go one myself.

Extreme Opposite of Sydney

2010-02-27T12:24:00.003+11:00

I no longer work in Sydney. It's bliss. I no longer drive in peak hour traffic. I'm looking for 6th gear instead of being lucky to make it into 3rd. I drive fast and am in the car for less time. I drive past rivers and boats and over mountains. I get to work and instead of inhaling smog and any other virus known to man I get to smell salt air and green grass combined with the scent of horses as they gallop past on their morning run.

There may not be a big Westfield but I'm still close to shops.

The picture above was taken on a lunchtime walk - 5 minutes from the office. Next time I go there I'm taking a handline.

Signwriting Fail

2010-02-27T12:19:00.002+11:00

This is the sign that is on the trailer of a lawn guy who mows one lawn in our street (Mr Chic mows 9). I've shared this on facebook but I had to re-post it here. It never ceases to make me laugh.

Me Emotional??

2010-02-27T11:56:00.002+11:00

I am hopeless. Truly. It takes nothing for me to burst into tears or at least tear up at something - a news article, an advertisement, my boys doing something sweet, it really doesn't take much.

Crash started school a few weeks ago. He loves it and was instantly at home in the classroom. The whole drop off on the first day took us about 15 minutes. Too easy. Too fast. I held it together until the walk back to the car when I lost it completely.

Mr Chic tells me that a kid in Crash's class had been held down and punched in the toilets at the school by 2 other kindy kids. I was in tears. And I wanted revenge. Crash is now best friends with this little boy and the friendship they have is so cute and special. They greet each other all the time with a big bear hug. It melts me. Thankfully I don't see it as Mr Chic does the school run or I'd be crying daily.

Crash got a little package from his teacher with a little note. It was very cute. I read the note and lost it. The note came with a pile of little things, a tissue, stickers, Hershey kiss, lifesavers etc all in a little snap-lock bag. This is what the note said. I attempted to read it out loud but had to pass the note to Mr Chic. He just looked at me like I was a lunatic.

Welcome to KP

The items in this bag have special meaning:

The cotton ball is to remind you that our room is full of kind words and warm feelings.
The chocolate kiss is to comfort you if you feel sad.
The stickers are to remind you we all stick together and help each other.
The stars are to remind you to shine and always try your best.
The money means you are valuable and special.
The tissue is to help you dry someone's tears.
The rubber is to remind you that everyone makes mistakes and that it is okay!
The lifesavers are to remind you that you can always come to me if you need to talk.

His teacher is a sweetheart. Me? I'm just way too emotional.

a letter of thanks

2010-01-08T19:16:00.004+11:00

After spending months job-hunting and getting more and more frustrated with recruitment agencies, I landed a position and then wrote a letter to the owner of the recruitment agency expressing my views. Here is that letter. (please excuse the quality, for some reason I failed at cut and paste).

Training for Motherhood

2010-01-04T11:39:00.003+11:00

It occurred to me whilst folding laundry (oh I lead an exciting life, I do), that someone should have given me a list of things to do before having children, and if I could cope with those things, then I was more likely to cope being a mother.

This is my list but feel free to add any recommendations!

Fill a squirty bottle with urine and spray throughout the house and car (it's a smell you really need to get used to)
Shove a biscuit/piece of toast into any available opening - such as a vcr (if you still have one)
Smear your work clothes with wheat bix immediately before you leave for work
Leave matchbox cars, marbles and other random toys throughout the house and navigate the walk to the kitchen in the dark without hurting yourself
Buy an industrial sized washing machine and dryer
Read a children's books whilst mentally somewhere else
Love craft and be able to turn an egg carton into various animals using only the contents of the pantry (and incidently I have 2 boys hassling me to 'make fish craft' right as I type this)
Empty a bag of sand into your car
Take a couple of puppies to the supermarket and make sure puppies don't destroy anything or wee on the floor
Dress an octopus
Set an alarm clock to wake you up at regular intervals during the night. At one of those times, empty a container of curdled milk all over your bed and the carpet and then clean it up and change the sheets.
Play a Hi5 cd on repeat in your car, and your house if you can.

Enthused and Ready

2010-01-03T16:20:00.002+11:00

So finally I'm back on the blog. Blog people, not bog. It's taken a couple of days into the new year but I've eased my way into my resolutions - which this year started as 'I refuse to make resolutions' but now it's a simple 'move more, eat better (and less) and drink less'. Simple. I've even been on my treadmill twice already. I know, it's a miracle.

I discovered though that my jogging shoes were actually causing me a recurring blister so I bought two new pairs today. No excuses now. I'm actually itching to try them out so when I had the blissfulness of having the house to myself for an hour or so, I thought............... I might look in the cupboard and grab a chocolate or two and get on the computer. D'oh!!

Move along now, nothing to see here. Oh well, I'll do an extra 15 minutes tonight. Promise.

Ok so 2009 is gone for good and good riddance too I say. I start my new job next Monday and I'm super excited and just a teeny bit nervous. I must say it will be nice to be driving the opposite direction to all the poor commuters travelling south to Sydney. I shall wave my hand in a queen-like manner and laugh 'ha ha ha suckers!'.

I hope all my readers have a fantasticly bouncy 2010!

Treadmills are Dangerous

2009-12-01T13:43:00.004+11:00

Awhile back I bought myself a treadmill. 2 days before it arrived I sprained my ankle falling down a flight of stairs. This is one example of my superior talent.

I've used the treadmill sporadically, is that a word?, well from time to time. When I'm not using it, it collects dust, or washing, sometimes both.

In order to use the treadmill I need to attach an extension cord, plug it all in, get the safety magnet thingy from the cupboard (you attach it to the treadmill and clip it to yourself in case you fall off then the treadmill automatically stops - or when you are running and your hand accidently hits the cord and the safety clip comes off the treadmill and you slam to a halt face-planting style into the treadmill controls - yes, just another talent).

We had a new lounge delivered the other week and so I thought it was an ideal time to change the position of the treadmill so it was closer to the power point and therefore easier to use. I folded up the base so it clicked into place and pushed it into a new position. As I turned the treadmill the clip undid itself and the base slammed down and into the wall. Well, through the wall. Another talent discovered - even I didn't think I was this good.

As it fell I gasped, swore, remembered Rowdy was in the room, and looked at the damage - one gaping big hole.

Now that I'd gone to all this trouble and caused all this destruction I figured I'd better actually use it. Mr Chic saw where I'd moved the treadmill to after I'd admitted making the hole and he said 'no running on it, if you fall off the back you'll go straight through that window and it's a long way down from 2 stories up'. Oh good, I hadn't thought of that.

Maybe I'm safer just putting washing on it.

The Mirror of Parenting

2009-12-01T12:39:00.002+11:00

Crash upset Rowdy last night. Something about a purple matchbox car and their inability to share. Rowdy then started crying. Crash got the cranks and stood up from where he was playing on the floor and yelled at Rowdy 'STOP CRYING!!!'. Rowdy proceeded to cry even more. Crash then jumped up and down, threw his car on the floor and screamed in frustration 'HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?!'.

I know exactly where Crash got that from. Not pleasant seeing a mirror of your own parenting reflected back at you by your kids.

Scales

2009-10-26T16:10:00.002+11:00

Rowdy can't pronounce L's. Possibly because he learnt to speak with a dummy in his mouth. Bad mother. Bad. So now I'm working with him to say his L's properly. We've been doing different words and last night I did some 'la' singing with him. We sang the scales, you know, la la la la la, do re mi re do (or whatever it is, hey I'm not a music teacher, it's just up the scale and then down).

So here's how it went (and you'll have to use your imagination about the tone of the notes):

Me: Sing la la la la la
Rowdy: la la la la la
Me: Sing le le le le le
Rowdy: le le le le le
Me: Sing lu lu lu lu lu
Rowdy: lu lu lu lu lu
Me: Sing lo lo lo lo lo
Rowdy: yoghurt yoghurt yoghurt

at which point we both collapsed in fits of giggles.

Product Testing

2009-10-22T11:06:00.002+11:00

Last Friday night I picked up some ice cream on the way to a girlfriend's for dinner. Sara Lee Rocky Road Overload. It. Was. Divine.

'Rocky Road Overload; luscious chocolate ice cream overloaded with marshmallows, chocolate coated peanuts and delicious raspberry swirls.'

Crash loved it too (not that I wanted to share). I finished off the tub the other night, on the lounge, tub in one hand, spoon in the other, and a devil's glint in my eye. Crash then informed me the next day that 'Mum, we need to buy more rock and roll ice cream'. Yes, yes we do.

Now I discover there are two other 'Indulgence' flavours.

Chocolate Ecstasy; chunky white and dark chocolate pieces packed in the richest, creamiest chocolate ice cream.

KAHLUA ® Mudslide; coffee liqueur blended through lusciously creamy ice cream and swirled with a mudslide of thick chocolate fudge.

Me thinks I shall get cracking to the supermarket and test these out. Mr Chic only likes vanilla ice cream, which is a shame, because I'll be forced to eat them all myself. Except this time I will hide them in the freezer behind the peas or something so that Crash doesn't spy it!!

Weird Bedroom Obsessions

2009-10-15T22:29:00.002+11:00

See, now here you were, all excited, anticipating something amazing and/or bizarre thing I like to do in the bedroom. Sorry to disappoint. That's a whole other series of posts but this is not about me. Oh no. Not at all. This is Rowdy tonight. He insisted. Who was I to rain on his parade and suggest that gardening gloves really aren't for the bedroom (well unless you're into Cute Gardeners and/or a bit of role playing). I digress. Check out the little man.

Cold Climate Superman

2009-10-14T15:39:00.006+11:00

Rowdy has recently developed an obsession for a woolly winter jacket he got for his birthday from his Nanny and Grandpa. He has worn it non-stop for getting on a week now. I did manage to talk him out of wearing it to school in case one of the other kids pinched it (amazingly that worked). He even wears this thing to bed.

Last night he wanted to put on his jacket again after his bath and he was riding around the house on his bike telling us all he was Superman. He would also only answer to the name 'Superman'. We wondered why Superman would need such a woolly jacket. Obviously Superman is from a cold climate.

Crash was wearing his Spiderman outfit which he then wore to bed, and to the shops today.

This is how I found Rowdy when I went to tuck him in last night. I had to take a picture. He was fine, seriously.

I didn't leave him that way of course....

and then there's Crash in his Spiderman outfit. I caught him sucking his thumb and said to him "Spiderman doesn't suck his thumb!". He replied "oh Mum, I'm just pretending to be Spiderman".

Smell

2009-10-13T16:07:00.003+11:00

Crash says to me this morning as I put him in the car "Mum, you smell".

I had put on a bit of perfume so asked him "Is it a good smell or a bad smell?".

He replied "A bad smell".

Yay.

Santa Claus

2009-10-12T12:05:00.002+11:00

Me: "Crash, what are you going to ask Santa for Christmas this year?"
Crash: "A real dog of my own".
Mr Chic: "What kind of dog?"
Crash: "A staffy"
Mr Chic: "A boy dog or a girl dog?"
Crash: "A girl dog"
Me: "What are you going to call her?"
Crash: "Ummmmmmm Puppy Dog"
Me: "Well it's a girl dog, so she needs a girls name"
Mr Chic: "What about Princess?"
Crash: "No, I'll call her Julie".

Great. Thanks Crash.

Me: "Rowdy, what are you going to ask Santa for?"
Rowdy: "Ummmmm a thingameejig toy"
Me after looking at Mr Chic blankly: "Right. You might have to show us what you mean there. What else?"
Rowdy: "Ummmmm some ice-cream!!"

Fabulous.

Secret Stash

2009-10-07T14:32:00.003+11:00

Last week I asked the boys what would they like for dinner, as it was my turn to cook. Their options were: baked beans on toast, eggs on toast or cheese on toast (as if you needed proof that I wasn't Julie from Masterchef). Crash selected baked beans on toast so I got out 2 tins from the cupboard. He looked at the tins. "OH! I've got one of those!". Ummmmmm ok, right. He then disappears for a while, returning with a tin of baked beans. "Ummmmmm where did you get that from?" "From the 3rd cupboard in the loungeroom". Oh great, the buffet cupboard with all my delicate breakable serving platters and the like.

Right. "Crash, please can you bring me anything else you've got stashed away in that cupboard?". He returns with his arms full of stuff. Curry powder, tooth picks, cocoa, honey, a tin of baby corn. Yup. Go on Ready Steady Cook - make a meal out of that why don't you!

I'm presuming he was playing 'shops' with Rowdy and this was just his 'closing stock' as such. Or perhaps he was just putting away a few key things to feed him and his brother for when his mother loses the plot in the near future.

Aussie Pride

2009-10-07T10:25:00.005+11:00

This is the newly tidied up workspace of mine in our study - which is now less of a tackle shop and more of an office. It looks particularly that we are very much into our "aussie pride" but in truth the flags ended up there so the boys didn't hit each other or the cat with them.

What you can't see is the 'storage corner', which I wasn't going to photograph. Or 'bookshelf' which is also overflowing. Or the 2nd wall of fishing rods. Mr Chic still occupies 2 of the walls in the study with fishing rods and that's after he moved half of them to the garage.

I do like having a little corner that is mine and partially toy-free finally.

A Good Weekend

2009-10-06T15:51:00.005+11:00

Saturday was my 25th birthday. Ok, so perhaps 25 may not be quite accurate, how about '25 and some months'? That will do.

I woke super early as it was still pre-daylight savings and the sun was up at some ridiculous hour. I also woke up without much of a voice. Goody, a cold. Hours later the boys woke up and wandered in for cuddles and brought me presents. Thankfully, no kangaroo. I did get a metallic pink ipod shuffle, The Gossip's latest CD and some ice-cube trays (for when I buy my bottle of Baileys I've been talking about for ages).

Time for breakfast and we all had cupcakes from Cupcakes on Pitt. Yummmmmm. A few cups of coffee and phone calls from family and before I could say "more cake" Mr Chic's parents had arrived for morning tea, with, you guessed it, more cake.

My parents came for afternoon tea and then my girlfriend came over for dinner. After yet more cake and a few drinks I went to bed with a cracking headache. And a worsening cold damnit.

Sunday, Mr Chic & I decided to move the computer desk closer to the printer in the study. All that was involved was swapping two desks around. What eventuated was the entire contents of the study being removed, all the furniture being rearranged and then the contents re-packed, all before the grand-final and my birthday dinner at my sister's. More bubbly was consumed at dinner and yet more cake was had. Actually loads more bubbly all whilst trying not to cough up a lung.

Thankfully Monday was a public holiday and we all slept in until well after 9am before we dragged ourselves to the loungeroom and watched the end of Fred Claus, which then started the whole discussion between the boys and us of "how many sleeps to Christmas?" and "can we put the Christmas tree up?". Ummmm 81 sleeps and no you can't.

HotMummaNeighbour came over in the afternoon to assist me with yet another bottle of bubbly and while she was escaping her kids there was a massive thunderstorm and a blackout so she had to stay for more drinks while waiting for the weather to ease - shame about that.

Unfortunately the 'alcohol kills germs' theory hasn't quite worked and I'd ideally like to be in bed getting over this bug. BUT my weekend was good and it was a very relaxing way to end a very stressful week.

Having Cake

2009-10-02T14:57:00.003+10:00

Tomorrow is my day. MINE. Although I know that being home will involve "No Dad, I want MUM to do it" and I will end up doing everything the boys want. Poor Mr Chic gets rejected when I'm around.

I've tried asking the boys "what has Dad got me for my birthday?" and Crash a few days ago said "You'll have to wait for 3 days Mum, it's a surprise!". Last night I thought I'd attempt to ask Rowdy but Crash interfered "No Rowdy!! It's a surprise!!". Rowdy just giggled and came out with "a kangaroo". Not entirely sure what I'll do with a kangaroo............

I know Crash is excited about my birthday soley because his birthday will then be next, he's been hanging out all year for it.

What have I planned for my special day? Well I'll tell daylight savings that it really needs to start so I don't wake up so early, that would be a good present. Then I'll have dinner with the boys and my girlfriend on Saturday and my dinner with my family on Sunday. There will much consumption of cakes and alcohol and I may even dust off the treadmill. Hey, I didn't say I'd use it, just dust it, so don't jump to conclusions.

Now if you'll excuse me I must go and put some fencing up in the back paddock so that the kangaroo can't escape.

The Mum Test

2009-09-21T18:23:00.001+10:00

Loved this forwarded email:

I was out walking with my 4-year-old daughter. She picked up something
off of the ground and started to put it in her mouth.
I took the item away from her and I asked her not to do that.
'Why?' my daughter asked.
'Because it's been on the ground; you don't know where it's been, it's
dirty, And probably has germs,' I replied.
At this point, my daughter looked at me with total admiration and asked,
'Mum, how do you know all this stuff? You are so smart.'
I was thinking quickly and replied, 'All mums know this stuff. It's on
the Mum Test. You have to know it, or they don't let you be a Mum.'
We walked along in silence for 2 or 3 minutes, but she was evidently
pondering this new information.
'Oh.....I get it!' she beamed, 'So if you don't pass the test you have
to be the dad.'
'Exactly,' I replied with a big smile on my face.

Red Wheelie Bins

2009-09-21T18:05:00.003+10:00

Saturday we ventured to the "big shops" (as Crash calls them) - the local Westfield. The intention was to get a 1st birthday present for our neighbours beautiful little girl - which the boys would pick, then grab some milk and bread rolls and then head home. Easy.

You'd think.

In Target and the boys selected 2 cute little t-shirts for the 1 year old. Tres Cuteness. Were the boys ever that tiny??

I digress.

As we walked through the homewares section (as I always do, in case there is a 50c wine glass that I MUST have - happened before), Crash spies a kid-sized wheelie bin. Not just one, but a WHOLE WALL of kid sized wheelie bins. "Mum!! Please, can I get a bin? Look, I can put my toys in it" and he points to the picture on the front. Hmmmmmmm. More plastic junk in the house, but it may mean a way to get them to tidy up. "Yep, ok. Just one". "YES! A red one!" and he gets a red one of the shelf and then says "But what about Rowdy? He wants one too". "Nope, just one, ok?" (There weren't exactly cheap). At which point Rowdy bursts into tears. Screaming, raging torrents of tears. It worked. "Ok, fine, one each, which colour Rowdy". "Red!" he says, instantly calm. Of course the only other red one was on the top shelf. Super-Mum could reach it and then we headed to the checkout. Me being followed by my parade of children-pushing-red-wheelie-bins.

I lost count of the number of people who stopped and spoke to us and commented on the bins. We didn't last in the shops long after that. I needed a border collie or something to round them up - "no, this way, watch the lady with the trolley, ok, now around here, careful, Crash where are you?" I truly felt like I was herding sheep all whilst "yes, they're cute aren't they, from Target, yes I hope they put their toys in them".

Of course once home the boys just thought they were great to shove stuff in and then chase each other around the house with, occasionally crashing into furniture AND each other.

At least they are tidying their toys away into them. For the moment.

Enough Already

2009-09-16T18:38:00.003+10:00

Congratulations Laucke Flour Mills for taking a stand against the adding of folic acid in flour. For their letter click here http://www.madge.org.au/Docs/Mandatory-Folic-Acid-Fortification.pdf

Enough is enough. Why can't bread just be bread? And milk just be milk - plain and simple milk. Perhaps a low fat version and a full fat version but that's it! I don't want added fish oil. I don't want added iron. I just want milk. I certainly don't want folic acid in my bread.

You know perhaps what's wrong with the world and the reason why so many people get cancer and other diseases is because of the way we've been mucking about with our food. Why can't we just all go back to basics? Good wholesome natural food. Nothing added, nothing processed.

Critter Poo

2009-09-16T15:39:00.003+10:00

Every morning Rowdy wakes up, sneezes a few times whilst watching the cartoons, clears out all his snot (hanging shoelace style) and gets on with the day. This is just Rowdy. Or so we thought. Hayfever or a cold, he always seemed to be snotty for one reason or another.

Not so. After his allergy tests yesterday we've discovered he has a dust mite allergy. Dust mites. Little buggers they are. It's not actually the dust mite that causes the allergy but their fecal matter. That's right. Poo. Dust mite poo.

These little critters live in your clothing, in your mattress, in your pillow, in your doona, living off shed skin. They love the stuff. In fact they have the ability to completely dehydrate and then rehydrate themselves in a warm environment, like you sleeping of a night and making the bed all warm.

Here's a dust mite. One of the millions living in your house. Feeding off your shed skin. With some fava beans and a nice chianti.

It's a comforting thought isn't it.

Patrick

2009-09-15T15:05:00.006+10:00

57 is too young. Far too young.

I will not remember you like this.

To me you will be forever in my memory as Johnny and Bodhi.

May you now find rest. My sincerest sympathies to your loved ones.

Mission Accomplished

2009-09-15T10:34:00.004+10:00

I didn't know exactly what I wanted, but I had an idea, I just knew that it was time to move forward and discard the past. Crash knew I was on a mission, he even helped me on the weekend with my meagre attempts with this task I had assigned myself.

I looked and looked and yet I was never convinced. There was no conviction. I persisted with the search. I trawled through location after location with no result. How can this be so difficult I thought? Will I ever succeed?

And then. I saw it. I knew. It was 'the one'. I held it in my arms. I was happy. The search was done.

As I got home from work last night I told Crash "I found it!". He watched as I pulled 'the one' from it's special housing and said "Hmmmmm, not bad Mum!".

The boys watched in amazement as I pulled the fake insides out of it. "Wow! There's so much!" they said. "Now, lets put all your stuff from your old handbag into this new one Mum!".

Terror on the Roads

2009-09-14T17:51:00.005+10:00

One morning, whilst driving to work, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I glanced sideways and had a small heart attack as I saw a huntsman crawling down beside my head on my window. I glanced again, it was on the outside of the window. Ok, ok, breathe breathe, he's outside AND huntsman spiders can't kill you. I don't freakin' care though. Driving along whilst looking out the back windscreen of the car and out the side windows.... where is the bastard? I can't see him anywhere.

As I drive down the street towards my work, it dawns on me that I will have to wind down my window to use my security pass to get into the carpark. What if he jumps on me, commando style from above the window?! I'm hyperventilating as I wind the window down at the speed of light and swipe my pass and wind it back up again at an equally impressive speed of light. Down the driveway and park in my spot. The spot next to me was empty so I grabbed my bags, threw the door open, leapt out and quickly shut the door. I walked carefully around the car, having decided that he must be destroyed (sorry spider lovers). There was no way I was going upstairs to sit in my office all day knowing that this beast was inhabiting my car somewhere.

I walked around the car twice. Nothing. WTF? Then I have an idea. I open the boot lid and there he is. Sitting there. Looking at me. Guns drawn. Without taking my eyes off him I reach into the boot and grab a shoe (you just never know what I've got in my car boot). I whack him with the shoe and he scurries through the boot opening and into the back seat. GARH! Not on my watch! The door on the side where he scurried could not be opened unless I wanted the imprint of a yellow pole in it, which I did not. So ever so elegantly I'm leaning into the car and pulling everything out of the backseat - shoes, matchbox cars, booster seats and then I found him. And then I smashed his head into oblivion and opened the door ever so slightly and flicked him out.

It was at this point that an old colleague pulled into the carpark and walked up to me (me with the contents of the car on the floor, wearing stillettos and with a sandshoe in my hand, hyperventilating). "Hi! How are you doing? I haven't seen you in ages!" "Well yes, I'm going really well, isn't that obvious".

Did I mention I don't like spiders?

Farewell Baby

2009-09-14T10:01:00.003+10:00

And so it occured that the Chic household left the world of babyhood behind. A brand new packet of nappies sit unopened and rejected, forelorn amongst a sea of toys surrounding the changetable which is now merely a cupboard. Rowdy has declared that he is a big boy now and he will only wear undies.

"Crash, Rowdy appears to be toilet trained." I say

Crash replies "Oh Rowdy, you're toilet trained! I'm so proud of you!".

"Well what shall we do with these nappies now Rowdy" I ask.

"Give them to Johnny across the road!" says Rowdy. (Johnny is older than Rowdy).

Then Rowdy walks through the house saying "Johnny is a baby!, Johnny is a baby!"

Sunny Sun

2009-09-11T11:38:00.003+10:00

The weekend is almost here. Can you tell? I can almost taste it, it's so close. It's supposed to be a hot and sunny weekend in Sydney. I will actually be able to do some washing and hang it on the clothesline (folded in half and wound all the way up so Dog can't reach it and destroy it all).

"What do you want to do this weekend boys? I ask. "I want to make pancakes!!" says Crash. He's been banging on about it for over a week. So we'll make pancakes for breakfast before I wander around the shops. The boys both need new summer shoes so we'll do that, grabbing coffee and donuts along the way. It doesn't sound relaxing, but it is - the boys are good shoppers.

I think a new clam-shell pool might be bought for the boys and they can splash about in that in the afternoon while I kick back with a glass of wine and read my book.

Then Mr Chic has planned a quiet family bbq on Saturday night followed by a movie on foxtel.

Bring on this weekend I say!! Let's start now!

To Market To Market to Make Some Moolah

2009-09-09T14:05:00.003+10:00

In 2006 when I was pregnant with Rowdy I participated in a market research group on potential advertisements for Karicare Toddler Gold. It was quite exciting to see the ad later on one evening on tv, knowing that I had been part of the process. Especially as one of the comments I had made had changed the ad. "It's not realistic, the child-bear is too good, he should throw a toy across the room or something" and in the ad that is exactly what he does, now.

So tonight I've been asked to participate in another market research group - this time on body cleansers. If it wasn't a paying job I'd happily go home as I have a whole heap of paying work to do there. Although there is a lovely pub around the corner from where I am going and the idea of curling up on their comfy lounges with a vodka/lime/soda and my Mama Mia book instead is highly appealing.....

Official List of Tools

2009-09-08T18:10:00.003+10:00

Kyle Sandilands - I don't need to explain why

BLT's and other morons who comment on Mamamia (if you comment on MM and you're reading this, then chances are you do not fit into that category, so don't be offended)

Julie at Westpac who continually stuffs up my pay

Checkout Chicks that can't manage a smile

The Transit Officer on the train on the way to Mamameetup who gave a 15 year old boy a humiliating hard time because he didn't have a ticket. Just give him a ticket and move on Woman.

National Parks who can't be arsed sending out a reminder for a yearly pass but will happily give you a ticket when your pass expired one day prior
Kanye West http://www.smh.com.au/news/entertainment/kanye/2009/09/14/1252780261217.html

Don't think for a minute that I've finished this list...... I've only just begun!

Why

2009-09-08T14:52:00.002+10:00

Why are printer ink cartridges so expensive that I could throw the printer away and buy a new printer for less everytime ALL the different colours run out?

Why does 5 minutes in a park without a toilet create an instant reaction in Crash that he needs to do a poo?

Why do parents rooms in shopping centres only have one child toilet?

Why do boys miss the toilet when they wee?

Why has nobody invented calorie-free alcohol?

Why does PMS create an insatiable craving for chocolate?

Why does the working week have to be 5 days?

What's your why?

Auction Fail

2009-09-08T11:46:00.002+10:00

I buy things now and then on ebay - actually I've been buying things on ebay since the year 2000. Recently I've also joined oztion, which is the poor Australian cousin of ebay and has a lot less people bidding. Sometimes you can pick up some bargains. As with all online auctions you can also get stung. Recently I bought some shoes. I seriously don't know why I bother, everytime I attempt a shoe auction I am disappointed. Ok, not everytime, but I've had more fails than I care to mention. But yet I persist. I'm always searching for the perfect work shoe - something black, not too high heel, something I can wear with pants or skirts, something with a closed toe, something that doesn't remind me of my grandmother. I search and search. Even shops fail me.

On oztion recently I found these pair of black work shoes in "good used condition" - the pictures looked fine, the price was cheap enough so I bought them. Last night they arrived. I opened the package and discovered the heels of the shoes were so worn on the edge that the white part of the shoe was showing. It wasn't just the bottom part of the heel which could be replaced. If I owned these shoes I would have thrown them away rather than flog them off on ebay. I was pretty annoyed.

Today, because I'm just in such a super-dooper mood, I emailed the seller and complained. She very politely asked for my bank account details and has refunded me the $7.50 I paid for them. And so she should do too. Now I just feel mean and guilty. But I had every right to say something. There was no mention of "soles of shoes are scuffed" (and that is mild to how they actually are) - nothing.

I could possibly repair these shoes but I'm not going to spend a cent on them. Another pair to throw away. The search continues....

and I have another pair of shoes arriving this week. I'll never learn.

A Very Expensive Biscuit

2009-09-07T09:50:00.004+10:00

As I was stuck for gift ideas for Mr Chic's Dad, I thought it would be nice to get the boys to make some bikkies. As FIL is diabetic I thought nuts on the top would be better than chocolate freckles or choc-chips. The boys were good helpers and were enthusiastically making the cookie dough with me and rolling the dough into balls and squashing them down on the oven trays. Then they put a pecan into the top of every biscuit - they looked great. Both boys had a couple of pecans along the way. Rowdy held his neck and was a bit distressed and said "Mum, the nut made me sick". I got him a drink of water, figuring the outside of the pecan probably got caught in his throat, as they do.

He went off and played with Crash for a while as the bikkies were baking but kept complaining about his throat. We opened a packet of cheezels, which he had fun sticking on his fingers and he probably ate half the packet. As he was eating, I noticed his eyelid going red and a bit bumpy. Within 10 minutes both eyelids were red and swollen and had raised bumps. Around his lips were going that way too. I gave him a dose of Aerius - thinking he may have an allergy and it could be hives. He was still pretty miserable and pointing to his throat so after Mr Chic phoned a nurse who lives in our street, we decided to take him to hospital.

The hospital were great and they took us straight in and kept him under observation while we waited for a doctor. By the time we saw a doctor (which didn't take long), I could tell that he was already recovering as the swelling was coming down and he was giggling and being cheeky again. Shortly after seeing the doctor we were allowed to go home.

The bizarre thing is Rowdy eats peanuts, he has peanut butter sandwiches and has never had a problem. But quite obviously he's allergic to pecans. Bizarre. If that is all he's allergic to then that will be very easy to control. But it changes everything. I've never ever worried before about what my kids eat "nah, they're right, they can eat anything". Now all that's changed and the thought of him trying something new is enough to put me in a panic attack. Thankfully he's old enough now that he can tell us when something is wrong.

waiting to see the doctor

Just after we'd seen the doctor - yeah I think he's going to be fine

Fun Size

2009-09-04T14:25:00.004+10:00

I bought the boys each a chocolate on the way home last night. When I arrived home they were in the bath and then cleaned their teeth AND it was also way too late for chocolates. I told Crash once he was in his pyjamas that I had something for each of them in my bag BUT because they'd cleaned their teeth and it was close to bedtime that he could see what it was and then save it for tomorrow.

Was I kidding? Would they wait? Would they hassle until I gave in? Why the heck didn't I just say nothing and eat them with Mr Chic later? errrrr I mean, give them to the boys at a time when they COULD actually eat them. Ah I don't know, mean mother I guess. I just wanted them to know that I had brought them home something special and teach them patience (ok so that idea is crazy but anyhoo).

Crash went to my bag, found the 2 chocolates and said "Oh Mum, that was so nice of you to get these for us, look Rowdy there's one for you, let's put them in the fridge for tomorrow".

And they did.

And this morning they ate them for breakfast, but that was our idea not theirs.

Farewell Mr Percival

2009-09-04T10:19:00.004+10:00

According to ninemsn news Mr Percival, which was one of the starring pelicans from the 1976 movie Storm Boy has died of old age at the age of 33.

"Adelaide Zoo senior keeper of birds, Brett Backhouse said Mr Percival had been a favourite with zoo staff since arriving from the former Marineland in 1988.

"He was our number one breeder, leaving behind the seven offspring he sired with partner Alto," Mr Backhouse said in a statement released on Thursday."

I remember the movie and I had the book for many years too. I am fond of pelicans although they do scare the beejeezus out of me with their size. Mr Chic has had fish stolen from him by pelicans at the cleaning tables at the boat ramp as he's been cleaning fish from the day's catch.

33 years is pretty old for a bird though isn't it?

Pelicans whose beak can hold more than his belly can.

Farewell Mr Percival.

A month to go

2009-09-03T14:51:00.007+10:00

So it's my birthday in a month and to give you time to shop here is my birthday list.

(disclaimer: it's my blog, I can do what I like, it's all about me remember)

Red Wallet - I currently have a red Jag wallet which I've had for many years and it's starting to disintegrate. I need a suitable replacement. It must be red.

MP3 player - I gave Mr Chic my last one so he could use it at the gym (see I can be nice sometimes) and he filled it with "his" music. I need a replacement. I do like this lego one - very cute.

Body Shop Coconut Body Butter: I love the smell of coconut and I'm yet to find something that actually does smell like coconut when it claims to. I haven't tried this one yet. Add it to your list.

Red Tony Bianco's: This is Amanda's fault for having such gorgeous shoes at the MamaMeetUp. I want them.

Please no chocolates or alcohol - they're just full of calories. Also no flowers as they just die. Vouchers to day spas and nail salons will be gratefully accepted.

The Seven Sins of Numberchic

2009-09-03T13:50:00.007+10:00

~ Lust ~

I recently admitted that if I had a harem it would include the following: IronJay, Jeremy Lindsay Taylor, Rodger Corser, The Rock and Simon Baker.

(There are probably others that I can't think of off-hand at the moment)

~ Gluttony ~

I once ate so much food at a Sizzlers "restaurant" that I could barely breathe. In fact my car refused to start out of protest at the added weight. I can't open a block of chocolate and just have one piece. I MUST finish the entire block. There are so many examples I could put here.

~ Greed ~

Money may not buy happiness but if you don't have to worry about money then it sure makes it a lot easier to focus on being happy. I'd love a bigger house, nicer car, expensive bling, designer clothes, stacks of handbags, lots more boots........ the list is endless really.

~ Sloth ~

That would be the treadmill gathering dust, and the handweights being used as a doorstop, and me driving to and from work everyday. That would also be me not doing a job if I can get the kids to do it.

~ Wrath ~

Oh man, don't get me cranky............. hell has no fury like a woman scorned - that quote rings so true for me! I won't give a list of all the people who have enraged me over the years and who I now no longer speak to... although I'd love to name and shame.

~ Envy ~

Yes of course I'm envious of people who can have a full time job, be a mother (and not get cranky), still hold it all together AND look fabulous. They are possibly aliens but I am envious.

~ Pride ~

Proud? Me? HA HA - well yes any little achievement I have gets blasted from the rooftops - that's the great thing about facebook and twitter - it can be all about me!

The Ghost of Michael Jackson

2009-09-03T13:29:00.003+10:00

I can't believe I'm doing a Michael Jackson post! My mum sent me this (thanks a bundle mum), unbelievable footage - watch carefully and make sure your volume is turned up!

Smoke and Dishwashers

2009-08-30T13:46:00.007+10:00

As I got out of my car on Friday night I was greeted on the front verandah by Mr Chic, Crash and Rowdy. Crash blurts out "Mum, the dishwasher died". I walk in the house and it STINKS of an electrical burning smell. It turns out that Mr Chic heard a noise and ignored it figuring it may be the new neighbours moving in, then he smelt something and discovered gigantic plumes of smoke coming from the dishwasher. He ushered the boys into the loungeroom and returned to unplug it and ensure that it wasn't on fire. Thankfully it wasn't, but probably wasn't far from it. Smoke filled the house. So yes, the dishwasher really did die. But a kitchen fire was prevented.

Can we afford a new dishwasher? When my tax refund comes back in 2 weeks we should be fine. 2 WEEKS! Yes, surely we can wash things by hand until then right? Mr Chic wasn't all that keen on the idea and after half an hour of standing in the kitchen doing dishes I was cursing and of a similar opinion.

Mr Chic went to one shop, found one that he liked and bought it. It got delivered yesterday afternoon and is now installed.

Crash and Rowdy thought it was quite a novelty to wash up dishes by hand - they had never heard of such a thing and were keen to help, well for one set of dishes only.

By the end of Saturday we were exhausted and as the dishwasher was only partially installed (one pipe wasn't long enough), Mr Chic & I opted for an easy dinner of dips, cheeses, bikkies and smoked oysters - yumm (not to mention a few drinks).

Aaaaaah yes feet up and totally chillaxed!

Cougars

2009-08-27T17:18:00.006+10:00

I loved this skit on Saturday Night Live awhile back - sending up "cougars". It cracked me up.

The Urban Dictionary has numerous definitions of "cougars":

"An older woman who frequents clubs in order to score with a much younger man. The cougar can be anyone from an overly surgically altered wind tunnel victim, to an absolute sad and bloated old horn-meister, to a real hottie or milf. Cougars are gaining in popularity -- particularly the true hotties -- as young men find not only a sexual high, but many times a chick with her shit together. "

"A 35+ year old female who is on the "hunt" for a much younger, energetic, willing-to-do-anything male. The cougar can frequently be seen in a padded bra, cleavage exposed, propped up against a swanky bar in San Francisco (or other cities) waiting, watching, calculating; gearing up to sink her claws into an innocent young and strapping buck who happens to cross her path. "Man is cougar's number one prey" "

"An attractive woman in her 30's or 40's who is on the hunt once again. She may be found in the usual hunting grounds: nightclubs, bars, beaches, etc. She will not play the usual B.S. games that women in their early twenties participate in. End state, she will be going for the kill, just like you."

Nova 96.9 have a cruise on tonight called "The Cougar Cruise" and I've been listening to the radio each day as they interview prospective "cougars" for this cruise. The main point being to ask the women "how low would they go", ie, what's the youngest age that the guy will be that they'd sleep with? (well there's no sleep happening I'm certain, but you know what I mean!).

Part of the qualification criteria for being a "cougar" is being over the age of 35. THIRTY FIVE. I turn 35 in October. If I was single does that mean I'd qualify as a "cougar" (presuming I'd be wanting to sink my claws into an innocent young and strapping buck who happens to cross my path, which being single, why wouldn't I).

BUT if I'm now out with my girlfriends having a few drinks will "young bucks" think we are cougars on the prowl? Or perhaps the wedding rings, bags under our eyes and stray bits of vomit and snot from the kids on our clothing give us away?

Incidently - the red-headed cougar in the above picture is a celebrity we all know. Can you guess who?

The Addiction

2009-08-27T11:00:00.002+10:00

Crash has a problem and we don't really know what to do. He's a thumb sucker. Here he is with one of his "blankies" - this was taken awhile back now and the blankies have gone to the Dummy Fairy who took Rowdy's dummies one night. Crash liked to hold the corner of a blankie whilst sucking his thumb. We were hoping that the removal of the blankies would solve the problem. Not so. He now holds the corner of a tea towel, or a cushion, or the blanket on his bed, or his shirt. It's not all the time, mostly when he's bored or tired.

We've tried sending him to the naughty chair every time we catch him. Mr Chic has threatened amputation of his thumb. I've painted on that stuff on his finger nail that is supposed to taste gross, but he didn't care.

We asked him last night "are you a baby?". "No I'm a big boy" "well why are you sucking your thumb? do big boys suck their thumb?" "No" he replied "But I can't stop!".

We don't want him teased when he goes to school next year and we also don't want a gigantic orthodontist bill when he's older!

Help!

A Luverly Smell

2009-08-26T14:01:00.004+10:00

I love freesias. I do. I know there are those that think they really are an out of control weed but I love them. I love how the smell of them just reminds me of spring. I never get sick of smelling them. My Grandma has them growing in her garden and all through her grass. Her lawnmower man gets frustrated at her insistence that the grass cannot be mowed at certain times of the year because of the freesias.

Grandma likes to send me home with bunches of freesias however I've discovered that both Mr Chic and Rowdy suffer from hayfever so freesias aren't allowed in the house. So this time I've taken them with me to work and they sit on my desk in the corner. The fragrance is amazing. The ants living in the freesias and playing hide and seek with me are not so amazing.

Giving Up Wine

2009-08-25T11:12:00.003+10:00

I was walking down the street when I was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless woman who asked me for a couple of dollars for dinner.

I took out my wallet, got out ten dollars and asked, 'If I give you this money, will you buy wine with it instead of dinner?'

'No, I had to stop drinking years ago', the homeless woman told me.

'Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?' I asked.

'No, I don't waste time shopping,' the homeless woman said. 'I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive.'

'Will you spend this on a beauty salon instead of food?' I asked. 'Are you nuts!' replied the homeless woman. I haven't had my hair done in 20 years!'

'Well, I said, 'I'm not going to give you the money. Instead, I'm going to take you out for dinner with my husband and me tonight.'

The homeless Woman was shocked. 'Won't your husband be furious with you for doing that? I know I'm dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting.'

I said, 'That's okay. It's important for him to see what a woman looks like after she has given up shopping, hair appointments, and wine.'

September Approaches

2009-08-25T10:49:00.005+10:00

September is always a busy month and in a week it will be here along with Spring although it feels like it's here already the weather has been so balmy in the last week or so.

So September. Events in September are:

Birthday dinner for our dear friend (must organise babysitters)

Fathers Day

Lunch at a friend and client's

My girlfriend's 40th - although she lives near Coffs so we can't actually go

2 Nephew's birthdays

My Mum's birthday and Mr Chic's Mum's birthday

Fishing Club Presentation Night (must organise babysitters)

Day trip to Mittagong

And this does not include a stack of client work I have on at the moment and all the meetings that needs to go with that (and all after hours too).

Crazy I tell you.

I suppose I'll have to think about organising something for my birthday too as that's 3 days into October. Assuming that is, that I survive September.

The Bag

2009-08-13T09:34:00.005+10:00

Crash had been asking if we could make a bag for him to carry around his toy dog Buster. The bag of course had to be dog print. Ummmm, yeah I think we can do that. We finally found some fabric, it's flannellette pyjama fabric but he didn't know or care. Then I found a pattern online that gave me some direction.

The boys were fascinated to see the sewing machine and watch me set it up. They didn't even know I had one (I sew alot, can't you tell?). After showing them how it worked I then sent them to bed. And poured myself a glass of wine.

Cut. Oh measure and then cut. Right. Sew sew. More wine. I can do this!

Excellent one main part of the bag done. I was making 2 of course. Rowdy wasn't going to miss out. Look I even squared off the bottom corners!

Ok, next bag and more wine. The second one was easier as I'd worked out what to do making the first one!

Now for the front flaps - they are going to be messenger style bags. Hmmmm, measure, cut. Ummmm that's not a rectangle. Cut more. I'm supposed to round the corners? Forget it!

Interlude of dinner and United States of Tara and then back to the machine to finish sewing on the straps and their initials.

I reckon I did allright! I hung them on their doors for them to see when they woke up this morning. As I was getting ready for work Crash came in to see me and said "Mum, I just wanted to say thank-you!".

Makes it all worthwhile.

Amused

2009-08-11T16:42:00.004+10:00

10 Things Guessing Game

2009-08-11T15:53:00.022+10:00

Here's something for fun. Guess which of the following 10 statements is the INCORRECT statement (ie, all are true but one).

1. I collect Biggles books
2. I drove a Hilux Ute when I was pregnant with Crash
3. I've never had a speeding fine
4. I've sung in an SBS choir
5. I hate brussel sprouts
6. I don't have any fillings
7. I got kicked out of physics in high school for playing Uno
8. I've never been overseas
9. I have a fear of large bodies of water
10. I'm part Swedish

Hmmm, which one is the lie?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Answer:

And the winner is Bern of So Now What with her guess of "I hate brussel sprouts" - I actually love love love brussel sprouts.

So to expand on my statements:

1. I collect Biggles books - sure do and just love finding first editions with their original dust jackets on

2. I drove a Hilux Ute when I was pregnant with Crash - yep, a good look for a pregnant chick hopping out of a ute in a suit, but it's true

3. I've never had a speeding fine - never ever had one, just luck though I assure you.

4. I've sung in an SBS choir - sure did as a soprano - then there was some controversy with the director and it was on some current affairs show, but I'd left by then

5. I hate brussel sprouts - LOVE LOVE LOVE them (this was the incorrect statement!)

6. I don't have any fillings - none whatsoever and that is also luck and from eating those cherry fluoride tablets as a kid (or whatever they were)

7. I got kicked out of physics in high school for playing Uno - aha yes "if you want to play that game you can play outside!" declared the teacher. Oh ok then, so we left.

8. I've never been overseas - unfortunately not, one day I will I'm sure.

9. I have a fear of large bodies of water - surprisingly yes I have a big fear of water, which doesn't work real well when we own 2 boats and I have my boat license and love to fish. I can go on a boat ok, but if there is the slightest chance I will end up in the water then I have a massive panic attack. Huge.

10. I'm part Swedish - my great grandfather was Swedish and was in the Swedish Navy before coming to Australia.

Stress Management

2009-08-10T12:18:00.003+10:00

Just in case you are having a rough day, here is a stress management technique recommended in all the latest psychological journals. The funny thing is that it really does work and will make you smile...

1. Picture yourself lying on your belly on a warm rock that hangs out over a crystal clear stream..
2. Picture yourself with both your hands dangling in the cool running water.
3. Birds are sweetly singing in the cool mountain air.
4. No one knows your secret place.
5. You are in total seclusion from that hectic place called the world.
6. The soothing sound of a gentle water fall fills the air with a cascade of serenity.
7. The water is so clear that you can easily make out the face of the person you are holding underwater.

There!! See? It really does work... You're smiling already.

Old Fishing Pics

2009-08-04T17:11:00.006+10:00

I found these pics online (bless you sir google). They are in old fishing club magazines and worth reposting (well at least I think so).

July 03 - This was the first time I'd handled a dead fish - yes, that look on my face is "ewwwwww". They weren't my biggest bream though. I can't find a pic of that one.

July 03 - My BIG flathead - this pic made it to the local paper (lame claim to fame hey!). Mr Chic has since out-fished me and got a flathead that was the size of Crash at 18 months.

April 05 - When Crash was a bub we held a fishing club weigh-in at our house. Before everyone weighed their fish, I put Crash on the scales. He looks suitably impressed. Such a chubby bubby!

Pant Wearer

2009-08-03T16:22:00.002+10:00

I was reading this article today http://news.ninemsn.com.au/world/845226/woman-faces-40-lashes-for-wearing-pants about the Sudanese journalist facing 40 lashes for wearing "indecent" trousers.

What crazy insanity is that law?! I will be watching with interest to see if she wins her fight.

When I received a letter of offer for a job back in the late 90's, there was a line in it that had me in stitches for ages "we prefer our female employees not to wear slacks". Yes, the 90's THIS CENTURY. This was a small suburban accounting firm with "old school" partners who made it very clear that females should be in skirts. At the time I thought it was funny and I didn't care, partly because the job was so close to home and I wanted it and partly because my backside had outgrown all of my "slacks".

Since then I've often thought I should have worn them and not given a toss - what the heck is wrong with a pants suit in an office, yet we could wear a floral dress and that would be fine (yes please cringe). The partners at the time did say that it was due to an employee working there who was rather large and wouldn't have looked any good in pants so rather than telling her what to wear, they told everyone. Nice. Incidently this employee once wore the same outfit for a week - day-in-day-out - and she didn't wash it. We could tell.

When the day came for the chief old partner to retire - the whole office wore "slacks".

Needless to say, I'm so glad I left there.

The Restaurant

2009-07-31T12:58:00.003+10:00

A certain flyer which appeared amongst this week's junk mail has attracted the boy's attention, and it's not a toy catalogue. Crash and Rowdy have been pouring over it for days. They have even pretended the loungeroom was a restaurant and telling us off for sitting in the wrong place in "the restaurant".

Crash has been saying "Mum, Mum, can we please go to the CFK Restaurant??"

"The what?" I replied. I look at the flyer, it's for KFC. "sure dear, but it's a far cry from a restaurant!!"

I've Decided Against Learning Pole Dancing

2009-07-31T12:27:00.003+10:00

I couldn't help myself but giggle and watch it over and over again.

how many times did you watch this?

Clowns

2009-07-28T17:25:00.002+10:00

This is how Crash appeared when Mr Chic picked him up from preschool today. The week's theme is clowns.

Because Rowdy was sick he didn't get to go to preschool today so he missed out. I reckon he'll be upset.

The Mechanic and The Cardiologist

2009-07-28T16:17:00.001+10:00

A mechanic was removing a cylinder-head from the motor of a Harley motorcycle when he spotted a well-known cardiologist in his shop. The cardiologist was there waiting for the service manager to come and take a look at his bike when the mechanic shouted across the Garage, 'Hey Doc, want to take a look at this?'

The cardiologist, a bit surprised,walked over to where the mechanic was working on the motorcycle. The mechanic straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked, 'So Doc, look at this engine. I open its heart, take the valves out, repair any damage, and then put them back in, and when I finish, it works just like new.So how come I make $39,675 a year and you get the really big bucks ($1,695,759) when you and I are doing basically the same work?'

The cardiologist paused, smiled and leaned over, then whispered to the mechanic...

'Try doing it with the engine running.'

What Happened To My Lovely Weekend.....

2009-07-27T12:09:00.003+10:00

Saturday was a gorgeous sunny day. Gorgeous. So gorgeous in fact I got sunburnt. Only on the tip of my nose and the nice "v" on my chest. Good look I know. We spent the afternoon catching up with relatives at a sort of family reunion thingy and it was fantastic to see my cousins/second cousins (can never quite work that out) but it was great to see them and their cute kids. My boys were thrilled to be able to play with the "rocket launcher" which I now have to go searching the shops for. And because the boys were occupied I could relax and chat with a glass (or 2 or 3) of wine. In the sun. Bliss.

Sunday it was a little rainy and chores had to be done so I took the boys to Coles (woohoo exciting). They were such good helpers all morning that I bought them a motorbike each. When we got home they turned a little feral. Boredom was the problem so craft was the answer and some seated activities (I'd hurt my back at some point, still don't know how). Mr Chic cooked a fantastic roast dinner and I consumed a decent amount of a lovely red.

Baths for the boys and I did some work before collapsing on the lounge to watch more Nitro Circus (I'm hooked on that show at the moment). Crash was building a stunt ramp for his motorbike this morning so I'm sure he's seen the show too.

So our weekend was fairly lovely and we were all organised for preschool this morning. Right when we were going to bed we heard it. The Seal. Poor Rowdy had woken up "bark bark bark" and was quite wheezy. So I sat up with him and tried to get him to take medicine but he refused. I managed to get Vicks on his chest and he came into bed with me and slept on and off for the night. As did I, with his feet in my ribs. He's since seen the doctor and been diagnosed with croup so this will be a tiring week I'd say.

As Rowdy was drifting off to sleep and after a massive coughing fit, he leant over to me and said "Mum, you are my best friend".

Mermaids or Whales

2009-07-24T17:57:00.002+10:00

Recently, in large French city, a poster featuring a young, thin and tan woman appeared in the window of a gym. It said:

THIS SUMMER DO YOU WANT TO BE A MERMAID OR A WHALE?

A middle aged woman, whose physical characteristics did not match those of the woman on the poster, responded publicly to the question posed by the gym.

To Whom It May Concern:

Whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, sea lions, curious humans).. They have an active sex life, they get pregnant and have adorable baby whales. They have a wonderful time with dolphins stuffing themselves with shrimp. They play and swim in the seas, seeing wonderful places like Patagonia, the Barren Sea and the coral reefs of Polynesia. Whales are wonderful singers and have even recorded CDs. They are incredible creatures and virtually have no predators other than humans. They are loved, protected and admired by almost everyone in the world.

Mermaids don't exist. If they did exist, they would be lining up outside the offices of Argentinean psychoanalysts due to identity crisis. Fish or human? They don't have a sex life because they kill men who get close to them not to mention how could they have sex? Therefore they don't have kids either. Not to mention who wants to get close to a girl who smells like a fish store?

The choice is perfectly clear to me; I want to be a whale.

P.S. We are in an age when media puts into our heads the idea that only skinny people are beautiful, but I prefer to enjoy an ice cream with my kids, a good dinner with a man who makes me shiver and a piece of chocolate with my friends. With time we gain weight because we accumulate so much information and wisdom in our heads that when there is no more room it distributes out to the rest of our bodies. So we aren't heavy, we are enormously cultured, educated and happy.

Beginning today, when I look at my butt in the mirror I will think,

Good gosh, look how smart I am.

(many thanks to Jill for this forwarded email. I must be brilliant with the size of my butt!)

Lift Fear

2009-07-24T15:49:00.002+10:00

Crash has a fear of lifts. When he was younger he was in a Westfield lift with Rowdy and Mr Chic and the lift got stuck and they had to wait for it to be moved to close to another floor so they could all climb out. So I can understand the fear. Funnily enough Mr Chic will avoid lifts as much as possible because of Crash's fear. I however, just carry on as normal and don't make a big deal over it and try and make the lift experience fun (get him to press the button and make faces at him when the lift is moving and talk to other people in the lift). If Crash catches a lift with Mr Chic he gets upset, with me he's fine.

Anyway, yesterday Mr Chic went to Westfield and the entrance he would usually drive into was busy so he drove around the other side and ended up parking in the basement, instead of on the roof where he would ordinarily park. After going to the doctors, getting Hungry Jacks for lunch and doing various other shopping he told Crash that they had to catch the lift back to get the car. Into the lift with much hysteria and carrying on from Crash and up to the roof-top level they went. Only to discover his car wasn't there which is at the point he remembered he'd parked it on the basement level. Back into the lift they go......................

Poor Tigger

2009-07-24T12:18:00.003+10:00

Rowdy woke up this morning and said "Hi Mum", he then proceeded to throw his toy Tigger out of the bed so Tigger landed with a soft thud on the floor. I was about to say "aww poor Tigger" when Rowdy comes out with "aww he died".

When searching for a picture of Tigger to put with this post I came across this instead. I loved it!

Spotto

2009-07-21T12:30:00.003+10:00

On our trip to the zoo we were stuck in traffic for ages because of a car accident ahead of us. To pass the time I introduced the boys to the game of "spotto". Every time they saw a red car they had to say spotto. Red trucks, red buses and red motorbikes were also acceptable.

"Spotto!" says Crash

"Where?" I say

"up that street we just passed" he replies

"Spotto!" says Rowdy

"Where?" I say

"that garbage bin" he replies

"Ummm, no garbage bins don't count even though they do have wheels".

"Spotto" was over a week ago and they are still playing it. All. the. time.

At least they are specific now.

I walked in the front door last night. "Spotto! Mum's wearing a red shirt!".

My Child Genius

2009-07-21T09:48:00.003+10:00

Allright so Rowdy isn't a genius, but a complete smart-arse. We've been getting the boys to race each other to do things, mainly so they'd actually get done and they would think they were playing a game in the meantime. However Rowdy has developed a sly strategy to ensure his constant victory. Last night they had a race to get changed into their pyjamas. Mr Chic helped Rowdy and I helped Crash. As we were frantically trying to undress them Rowdy threw a wobbly and burst into tears and starting yelling "I DON'T WANT TO RACE!!!", ok ok, so we calmed him down and told him we weren't racing anymore and continued to get them both changed but at a much slower pace and with less giggling. Rowdy was dressed before Crash (well Crash had to run to the toilet halfway through and then be chased through the house in order to get him to wash his hands). As the last button was done up on Rowdy's pyjamas he put his hands up in the air and declared "I AM THE WINNER!". Crash was dismayed "but we weren't racing anymore!"

Genius or smart-arse?

Innocence

2009-07-20T14:19:00.003+10:00

Mr Chic's Dad was asking Rowdy who his friend was at preschool. Rowdy says "Mya". "oh so you have a girlfriend do you? already?". Crash pipes up "yeah and I have a boyfriend, his name is Liam".

The Kerrigans

2009-07-20T12:57:00.002+10:00

Saturday night after the boys were fed Crash requested we flick on "the funny show", Australia's Funniest Home Videos. I've watched it with the boys before and we've giggled and and moaned at the various clips that we've seen (and secretly hoped they didn't learn a new trick for their bikes in the process. However this time Mr Chic joined us and we found ourselves all sitting in front of the tv laughing our heads off - mind you, Mr Chic and I were more laughing at the boy's reactions. After a while Mr Chic looked over at me and said "weren't they sitting like this in that scene from The Castle?" I said "ummmm yes, we are The Kerrigans!".

Fog Head and Ramblings

2009-07-16T10:56:00.004+10:00

Disclaimer: This post is written with a foggy head and is a rambling of the past day. No responsibility is taken for it's structure or lack-of-point.

So my car was serviced yesterday and Mr Chic and the boys came to pick me up from work. They waited around the corner for me in the next street and as I walked up the street to meet them I was looking for Mr Chic's car but couldn't see it for the life of me. I stopped and was about to ring him when I hear "beep beep!" and right in front of me is MY car - how I didn't see it is beyond my levels of comprehension at the moment.

Mr Chic tells me the boys haven't had dinner so while he stopped to get fuel I asked the boys what would they like for dinner. Crash said yoghurt on toast. Ahuh. As I had some rolls leftover from my lunch I suggested eggs on breadrolls and we squish them down. This idea went down well. I made the "egg-burgers" when we got home and Crash said it was "super-yummy". He then requested another bread roll with peanut butter and demolished that also. I swear this kid eats more than me (at times anyway).

On the way home we stopped at the car service place to pick up Mr Chic's car (oh it's so very complicated but he'd driven there in his car, paid for my service, swapped cars so he could see how my car felt after the service and then drove to get me from work). So back to swapping cars. I was fossicking through my handbag to find my car keys and somehow managed to whack my head into the door frame. I ooze talent at times. I'm now slightly disorientated and rubbing my head whilst saying "ow" which the boys thought was hilarious.

I'd previously taken cold tablets so couldn't take anymore panadol for the headache which I then had for the rest of the evening. Delightful really.

During the night I woke up and then couldn't get back to sleep because of the pain in my throat. I reckon I swallowed a running chainsaw at some point. So I flicked on the tv. Mr Chic had abandoned me earlier in the evening as he couldn't sleep also so I knew he'd be on the lounge and I wouldn't be disturbing anyone by watching tv. In my delirious state I was almost convinced that I should get on the phone and ring Danoz Direct and buy the suck-me-in slimming pants that were advertised. Flick. Oh now I'm learning about pilates. Flick. Some religious show. Flick. Country music flim clip. Flick. Static - well that's an improvement. Ok back to slimming pants. Thank goodness that finished and Good Morning America came on. That must have been mind-numbing enough to allow me to drift in and out of sleep again for the rest of the night.

As Mr Chic is also sick I told the boys that they had to be good for Dad and be good helpers today before I took off for work where I can happily sit at my desk and not speak for the entire day all going well.

As I was finishing this post I got an email from Mr Chic. Crash has been putting toys away, he got himself dressed and picked out clothes for Rowdy and changed his nappy and pretty well got him changed as well. Then he helped Mr Chic unpack the dishwasher which involves actually drying stuff with a teatowel before putting things away. Mr Chic said he had no idea he was so good at it. I knew, I let him do it all the time when I'm at home but we've also introduced a "chores chart" - the boys do jobs around the house and they get coins which they can save up and spend on toys or whatever. Crash has declared that he wants to save up to buy Darby. This is Darby. Mr Chic isn't so sure!

My 6 Loves

2009-07-14T17:59:00.002+10:00

Brenda at MummyTime tagged me in her blog about "My 6 Loves". Of course I love Mr Chic, Crash and Rowdy to bits so I thought I'd just mention some little things that just make me happy.

1. I love it when Crash walks up to me out of the blue and rubs his hand on my shoulder "is that nice Mum?"

2. I love it when Rowdy gives me a kiss on the lips and says "that was a syoppy kiss Mum!" (syoppy because he can't pronounce "l's"),

3. I love it when my boys play together happily and I can just sit and watch them interact. I could do this all day. I love their conversations and games.

4. I love arriving home from work and being greeted by the boys excitedly at the door "Mum! Mum!" and then being asked "what did you get for us from the shops today?" without fail.

5. I love the smell you get when you open a jar of coffee for the first time - heaven

6. I love sipping on icey cold Baileys (a rare event but I just love it!)

Now I'm supposed to tag 6 people, but if you are reading this then consider yourself tagged!

Holidaying

2009-07-13T09:52:00.005+10:00

What a wonderful week off work. How lovely to live in jeans for the entire time too.

What did we do? Well Saturday was a quiet day shopping and going to the library. Sunday we met up with some old friends for lunch and as we had Mr Chic's sand-friendly truck we then took the boys to the beach where Crash made his first ever sand-castle.

Monday the boys were in preschool so Mr Chic and I took out the big boat and did a spot of fishing. It was cold but sunny and the weather was calm so we ended up at a spot which never fails to make me vomit. Thankfully Mr Chic was happy to be my deckie and do all my rigs so I could concentrate on catching fish and not vomitting (although I did end up with a hook stuck in my hand at one point). I caught 4 leatherjackets so not a great catch but it fed the boys for 2 nights.

Tuesday the boys were in preschool again so Mr Chic and I headed out to a local restaurant for a fantastic lunch and I had a massive glass of wine before we went to the flicks to see The Hangover. It was hilarious and I highly recommend anyone see it.

Wednesday was the zoo. The boys loved it but I swear they carry a checklist. "Tiger, yep, seen it, check, now what's the next one Mum?" and we saw the entire zoo in the space of a few hours and that included stopping for lunch. Talk about a short attention span. I could have sat and watched the seals swim around for hours and thankfully we did stop there for a whole 2 minutes! A special thank you to Mel for the Hungry Jacks free zoo ticket which we were able to use for Crash!

After the exhaustion caused by the zoo our planned trip to the museum for Thursday was looking doubtful (read: we could not be stuffed). So we asked Crash if he really wanted to go or if he was too tired. He suggested a "play day at home" which sounded like a fabulous idea so Thursday was spent lounging around at home.

Friday was Luna Park. It was a gorgeous sunny day too. We were stunned that Crash wanted to go on the "Wild Mouse" and even more stunned that he wanted to go on it a second time (in fact came close to throwing a tantrum because we wanted to stop for a coffee and he wanted to go on the rollercoaster). Mr Chic wasn't as happy but obliged for the little guy's sake. Rowdy got upset on some of the kids rides - so much so they had to stop the ride so we could go in and take him off. To his credit though he attempted a couple of them a second time later in the day and didn't cry. Mr Chic took Crash down the slide in Coney Island and then Crash did the slide by himself. Rowdy wasn't real interested so he and I just watched. At the end of the day I bought the boys fairy floss as I had promised. Even with the extra sugar I still ended up carrying Rowdy up the hill to the station.

I told Crash last night that I had to go back to work today. He said "ooooh, I'm going to miss you Mum".

A Pause with Rose Coloured Glasses

2009-07-03T15:21:00.009+10:00

And so another financial year came to an end. Hoorah. Break out the bubbly. No, not really. But it is a relief for work to slow down after the pace of the past few months took it's toll. I am having the next week off work to stop and relax and relook at the world through my rose coloured glasses.

There is plenty planned of course. The boys are at preschool for 2 days so Mr Chic and I will get some much needed time to ourselves. Fish and chips on the boat in the sunshine is sounding particularly good. As is the movies on tight-arse Tuesday. A movie in the middle of the day so I'm likely to stay awake? Bliss.

If the weather is good we'll take the boys to the Zoo and Luna Park later in the week. Rowdy is still obsessed with roller-coasters and Crash just wants fairy floss. I was 21 the last time I went to Luna Park - that was quite a few years ago!

The boys are also keen on dinosaurs so a trip to the museum will be another day. I told you there was plenty planned.

I can't wait.

Holiday Nostalgia

2009-06-23T12:22:00.002+10:00

This is my post for Challenge 5: Holiday Nostalgia for Blog This

We took our very first holiday with both boys last October. A holiday with children is mostly just moving your kids from one location to another and stressing they'd break something at each location you stay - but we thought we should give it a go.

So we packed up the kids, dog, boat and luggage and off we set. It was raining and we have a hilux with an open back so the luggage had to be tied in and covered with garbage bags. The dog got dropped off at the boarding kennels along the way so thankfully his flatulence didn't accompany us the entire trip, only the first 3 hours.

We were headed to my girlfriend's farm near Coffs Harbour but stayed at Port Macquarie for 2 nights along the way. We also stayed there on our way back home and I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I woke up to find a cockroach sitting on my arm. I have a bug phobia so needless to say I didn't sleep real well after that.

Staying with my girlfriend was great - lots of chats and moscato, visits to the Big Banana, feeding her horses and just kicking back (as much as you can with a non-child-proof house and an in-built fear that the kids might destroy their flat screen tv or something else).

While we stayed at my girlfriend's farm we took a day trip to Yamba - *sigh* - how we loved it there. The photo above was taken on the main beach at Yamba and Crash was dancing on the sand. It was a beautifully blissful time on that beach. Rowdy had only been to the beach once before but was too young to remember so it took him some time to adjust to the sensation of walking on sand but then he was running about and dancing too.

We're going back there again this October. I can't wait.

The Week of Three

2009-06-19T10:48:00.009+10:00

And so we begin our week long celebration of Rowdy's 3rd birthday. He will get Mr Chic & my presents this Sunday (a loop-the-loop racing track because he's obsessed with rollercoasters and a play cash-register for creative play). He's getting his presents early as it's his actual birthday on Tuesday and he'll be at preschool and I don't want the drama of him wanting to play with his presents while we all try and leave the house. He will get a small gift on Tuesday from Crash - but it's small enough that he can take it to preschool with him.

The following Saturday we are having all the grandparents over for afternoon tea. Rowdy gets to choose the cake that I will "make" (read: cut and paste from a pre-made slab and then decorate, always the night before, always with a few wines and I always end up eating piles of icing and lollies). He had said he wanted a "racing car" cake, then this week it changed to a "dinosaur". Hmmmm, don't think I'm real good at either of those so I'll steer him in the direction of a "racing track" cake I think (I found some neat looking cakes thanks to google). The boys are pretty good at going with my suggestions but I'll show him the pics I found online and ensure he's happy first!

Of course I will also have to make an allergy free cake suitable to take to preschool on the Tuesday, the night before, with a few wines........

Looking at a few of my favourite baby pics of little Rowdy, I cannot imagine ever going back to the baby stage again - but he was such a chubby bubby who loved and still loves his cuddles!

only a week old and a kiss from Crash - before Crash shoved him off his lap

Mucking about in the toys tub - I love the way they are looking at each other - almost thinking "just you wait Mum, when we're older we are going to get into so much mischief!"

making contact with dear old Beau - such a tolerant and patient dog

Fringes and Floral Prints

2009-06-18T12:29:00.003+10:00

My old school-friend Nicole tagged me in this photo on Facebook (thanks for that Nic - that's me on the left in the orange floral dress, I was 7) - I had never seen this photo before and had completely forgotten about that dress *sigh*. It was a favourite dress which I believe my Mum made for me. Now I'd like the dress in a few sizes bigger (ok, quite a few sizes bigger thanks) and would wear it with leggings. It would look fab don't you think?

Nicole & I got to talking about fringes. My whole haircut in this picture is a fringe I'm sure. Hideous. The darn thing took ages to grow out too. Then I went for a smaller fringe for a year or so (meaning: not half of my head). It annoyed me so I grew it out. Then in high school my girlfriend & I decided to get a "frisky" fringe (heck, I'm sure that was what it called, it was late 80s so who knows). What we meant was a small fringe that we could just flick up or something. What we both got was a half-your-head fringe that was hideous (not to mention hot). We both started growing it out the next day. Ever since then I haven't had a fringe and no matter how much I'm tempted to get one cut because it's possibly fashionable I know it'll drive me bonkers and I'll just grow it out once more.

More from Little Miss Tour Guide

2009-06-12T17:37:00.005+10:00

Another extract from the travel log of my tour guide girlfriend:

Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan

As we wait for the train to leave Almaty Railway Station the
temperature continues to rise in the carriage, and whilst it is
boiling hot at seated level, it’s an absolute furnace near the ceiling
for those in the top bunks. I sympathise but have enough to deal with
myself – not only am I right at the other end of the carriage from the
rest of the group, but to add insult to injury I was going to be
sharing a cabin with three men. Two of the men were of Asian
appearance and one Caucasian, but they are all Kazakhs and don’t speak
any English. Still, at least I am on the bottom bunk, I don’t know
that I could have got up to the top one without a step!!

The men are obviously curious as to what a single white female
tourist is doing in their cabin, headed to a remote area of Kazakhstan
that is well off the regular tourist path. To explain, I whip out the
travel brochure and they pore over the pages, flicking back and
forth between the pictures and the map. This must be an expensive
trip, they conclude, making the universal gesture for money by rubbing
their thumb and fingers together and raising their eyebrows. It’s
easier to agree than try to explain my job. One of the men finds a
picture of a Muslim woman in the brochure and points to it, then
points at me and makes a gesture to show only his eyes left exposed.
I guess he is telling me that I will have to wear the Islamic
clothing, and so I put on a woebegone expression and nod in agreement.
I point to my bag and then make a circle around my face to tell him I
already have a hijab, and he laughs kindly at me.

Before the train has even left the station the Asian men are having a
cup of tea and an apple each. They kindly offer me some but I
decline, showing them that I have my own apple. One man makes his
green tea more flavoursome by vigorously pulling his tea bag in large
circles around the top of his mug, almost as if he is taking it on
exercise laps. How he can enjoy a hot drink when the temperature
inside the carriage is pushing 40 degrees is beyond me.

The train eventually begins to rattle along the tracks and we settle
down for the night. We are due to arrive in Shymkent early in the
morning and will be leaving Kazakhstan as we cross the border into
Uzbekistan. Given that we were only going to be in Kazakhstan for
such a short period of time, and given how difficult it had been to
get my visa from the Kazakh embassy in Beijing, I had made a vow to
try not to spend a single cent of my money in this country. I had
planned to arrive, look and depart without leaving any tourist dollars
to show for it. And as the train headed towards southern Kazakhstan,
it appeared that I would be successful in my mini-protest. Not a
single cent spent! A new record!

Arriving at Shymkent, we piled off the train and quickly found our
driver, who spoke not a word of English. Thank goodness for the
Sundowners sign he was dutifully holding up or we could have been
wandering around the southern reaches of Kazakhstan for days. We
discovered we were to be travelling in a small van which would have
comfortably held four people and their luggage. We fit 9 people and
luggage into it, but certainly not comfortably! I took the passenger
seat, which was to prove both fortuitous in terms of space and
potentially fatal in terms of survival rates if the van was to collide
with anything… but more on that in a minute. This driver was to take
us to the Kazakh/Uzbek border and the plan was that we would walk
through the border and be collected by a driver on the other side.

We set off through Shymkent and it rapidly became obvious that the
driver was hell bent on getting us to the Uzbekistan border asap. With
a speed limit posted at 60km/hr, the driver was managing close to
90km/hr through the town itself, and when we reached the flatter,
longer stretches of road out of the towns, the speed would creep up to
well over 120km/hr. I should just mention, however, that the vehicle
we were travelling in was not a custom built racing car,
aerodynamically designed to cope with high speeds. No, this vehicle
was an old white van which had definitely seen better days. The
windscreen was cracked from one side to the other and also had several
interesting spirals radiating out from various stone chips. I was
terrified of needing to sneeze in case the whole windscreen fell out.

As we began to rocket through the countryside at speeds I have
previously only managed to obtain whilst under lights and sirens in an
ambulance, I surreptitiously reached for my seat belt and was rather
disconcerted to discover that although the seat belt was in the usual
place, the buckle was not. More specifically, the buckle was
completely absent. I allowed the belt to roll back up and instead had
to satisfy myself with gripping the arm rest hard enough to leave
fingerprints permanently etched into the plastic. On the dashboard
was a curious black box which I initially assumed to be a radar
detector, and certainly the speeds this driver seemed to enjoy would
warrant some sort of warning device. Upon reflection, however, I
couldn’t be sure that it was not a black box recorder from an
aircraft, because if a recorder was required once a certain speed was
reached, then surely this van now qualified as a low flying aircraft
and the black box could be there to allow investigators to understand
better the final minutes before the vehicle was completely immolated
in a high speed impact. I took small consolation from the fact that
should we crash into anything there was every chance I might be found
still alive several kilometres from the crash site, propelled into
flight by a fragile windscreen, high speeds, and the complete absence
of a seat belt.

To make the journey even more interesting, the roads in southern
Kazakhstan leave a little to be desired. Many patches over potholes
gave the roads a dappled appearance, but most lethal were the
occasional dips in the road that were virtually invisible to the naked
eye. When one of these ditches was hit at over 120km/hr, the van
would leave the road for a moment before crashing back to earth with a
bone shattering smash followed by several wallowing bounces. The
driver, who was further flaunting death by driving with only one hand
on the wheel at any given time, would be forced to desperately grab
the wheel with both hands to stop the vehicle slewing off to one side,
and as he wrestled with control of the vehicle my single cohesive
thought was that maybe donning a sports bra could have benefited me
prior to the commencement of the trip.

The van plunged onwards at remarkable speeds and I realised that the 3
½ hour drive to the border was probably going to take a little less
than that at the current velocity. Nonetheless, inside the human body
the release of adrenaline fuelled by fear for one’s life cannot last
forever. After close to an hour of flinching as cows and goats stepped
perilously close to the edge of the road where our vehicle would often
stray after hitting a dip and watching as the countryside whirled past
in a blur of beautiful green hills and livestock, I began to resign
myself to the outcome of the drive whatever it might be. In my
wildest imaginings I’d never thought I might die in a high speed
accident (possibly involving a bovine) on some of the most isolated
roads in Kazakhstan and I took comfort from the thought that surely
not many tourists perish in this fashion. The hypnotic motion of the
wallowing van began to lull me to sleep.

This, of course, was a mistake on my behalf. As my rigid muscles
began to relax in sleep, I lost my main protection from the sudden
decelerations that occurred when the driver spotted a dip in the road
far too late to actually do anything about it. The absence of a seat
belt meant that there was now nothing to prevent my forward momentum
in the event of sudden braking. And brake we did. Being asleep, I
have no idea when the cow stepped onto the road, only that the driver
felt that stomping on the brakes would be the best way to avoid
producing a surplus of hamburger meat. In what I hope was a graceful
manoeuvre but I rather suspect was anything but, I toppled forwards in
my seat, waking only when my head struck the windscreen. Two things
immediately crossed my confused thought processes. The first was
wondering why a cow was staring at me from less than a metre away and
the second was amazement that the windscreen hadn’t fallen out.

The horror my group members felt at my sudden demise was apparently
not shared by the driver of the van, who cursed fluently at the cow,
the shepherd and possibly the sky before jamming the accelerator down
to the floor the second the bemused animal stepped out of the path of
our vehicle. I was flung unceremoniously back into my seat by the G
forces as we took off down the road again, and a moment’s silence
reigned before one of my group members tentatively suggested that
maybe I should put a seat belt on. As if I hadn’t already thought of
that!

Resolving not to allow myself to fall asleep again, I kept myself
amused counting donkeys as we continued on to the Uzbekistan border.
Only once did the driver actually voluntarily allow the van to slow,
and that was when the radar detector emitted a piercing series of
shrieks to warn of a Police presence ahead. In a breath-taking
display of model citizenship, the driver immediately brought the
vehicle to about 40km/hr, the sudden deceleration feeling strangely
disorienting after so long moving at high speed. To add to the
picture of a law abiding road user, the driver also pulled his seat
belt down and tucked the buckle under his thigh, giving the impression
that he was actually safely buckled into his seat. The instant we
were past the Police stop, he lifted his right leg slightly and the
seat belt slithered happily back to its retracted position. Frankly,
it was with a not inconsiderable amount of relief that we arrived
intact at the border post, and indeed the 3 ½ hour journey had taken
us only 2 ½ hours. Needless to say, we didn’t give the driver a tip.

Favourite Photo: Carols

2009-06-12T14:54:00.006+10:00

The lovely Amanda from L-Plates (and originally from Chantelle from fatmumslim) tapped me on the shoulder in a new photo tag thingy...over to her to explain:

It's really simple. I love how every photo tells a story. Some short stories, some long tales. I want to know what is your favourite photo of yourself. Everyone has one. The photo they look at and smile. It reminds them of something, some time, some place. A moment in time. So share the photo, share the story and then tag three other people. I want to see photos and stories all around the blogosphere.

This is my pic:

It was taken at Carols by Candlelight at Sydney Adventist Hospital at Christmas last year. It was just such a special night and everytime I see this pic it brings a smile to my face. We'd never taken the boys to anything like this before as we were terrified of them being bored out of their brains and running amuck and thereby ensuring that we didn't enjoy the evening. However, it couldn't have been further from the truth. They were perfect little angels and waved their candles and sang and clapped and cuddled with me the entire night. It was just a beautiful evening which finished with fireworks (and no tears, they loved it!). I cannot wait to go again next year.

Ok. So I tag:

MummyTime

katiecrackernuts

lunzygras

Non-Drinks with the Mayor

2009-06-12T11:39:00.004+10:00

Part 2.

I arrived at the Library last night for the photo competition presentation and immediately thought "good lord, what was I thinking?!" and text Mr Chic "ha ha ha I have no hope". I spotted my 2 pictures on the wall and then sat down dejectedly (after noticing there was tea and coffee or water only, no alcohol damnit). Whilst thinking, "please let's get this thing over with so that I know I haven't won and I can go to the pub" my girlfriend arrived and laughed at my dejectedness.

The night rolled on and of course I didn't win anything. After all, the people that won actually had cameras with slow shutter speeds and tripods and stuff. I used my phone. Thankfully it finished after an hour and Girlfriend & I headed to dinner to giggle over the winners and my lack of camera. Next year perhaps? Perhaps not, the effort that the winners went to to get their perfect shot and then to win $250? Forget it, I can't be stuffed.

Here are my 2 pics on the wall in the library - at least they will be on display for a few weeks so I can show the boys their pictures and they can feel special.

What Not to Eat

2009-06-10T17:25:00.010+10:00

In my quest to be healthy I've taken to buying soups from Coles and bringing them to work for lunch with a couple of slices of grainy bread. Ok, good in theory. I've had some successes and some failures, more failures in recent days and I'm now terrified of trying something new.

Success:

WeightWatchers - vegetable, beef and pasta - with a hint of chilli. Also the "pumpkin and potato" one was nice. Crash picked these after I stood for too long trying to make up my mind about which ones to buy. I love the bit of spice that the chilli adds to this - I'm not on a weightwatchers plan but I'd happily have it again.

Campbells Country Ladle - Creamy Tomato with cheese ravioli. This is another favourite - again a bit of spice and flavour from the tomato with the little pillows of cheesey ravioli thrown in.

Failures:

Everything so far that I've tasted in the La Zuppa range. The Lentil was revolting and gave me wind. The Ribbolita reminded me of vomit and I couldn't even finish it. The Cauliflower and Pea was the colour of snot, too salty and was just outright disgusting. The packaging and healthy promotion of the product keeps sucking me back in! I still have 2 flavours in the pantry to try. I don't know that I can bear it. Really. I think they are "Tuscan Bean" and "Spinach and Chickpea". Perhaps I'd be better off going back to a proven success and donating these to the dog.

Have you ever bought a product based soley on the pretty packaging only to be greatly disappointed?

Would you believe it??!!

2009-06-09T18:24:00.003+10:00

Mr Chic asked me for a recipe. Me!! I made a pasta dish on Saturday night - it was great hot and even better cold 2 days later. In fact I'm going to add on this recipe and create an even better pasta salad.

This was the recipe which I swiped from "4 Ingredients" - sort of.

pasta (I had twists or whatever they were but it doesn't matter)
olive oil (a good splash)
sweet chilli sauce (as much or as little as you like)

That's it. I am a master, I know.

Rowdy loved the pasta - hot or cold, even if it was pretty spicey. Crash "I don't like it Mum, it makes my mouth hot".

My Big Boy

2009-06-09T18:11:00.005+10:00

Crash starts school next year, Big School. Sometimes it feels like yesterday that he was just a baby, and at other times this feels like a lifetime ago. We have an Open Morning at his school on Thursday. This is the same primary school I attended for a couple of years - 25 years ago mind you!

I know he's not little anymore - I can barely lift him - and I know he's ready for school as he enjoys preschool and loves to learn. I also know that I will be a blubbering mess!

Drinks with the Mayor

2009-06-09T17:43:00.008+10:00

I received this letter on Friday and was quite excited:

"Dear Julie,

Re: 2009 Photographic Competition

Thank you for entering Hornsby Shire's 2009 Photographic Competition. We have been very excited by the response from enthusiastic photographers right across the Shire.

Judging took place today at Council Chambers. Judges included professional photographers David Starr from Soul Photography and Steven Vandertouw from Advent Photography.

The winners of this year's competition will be announced at a special event next Thursday 11th June, 7pm at Hornsby Library. You and a friend are invited to join the Mayor on this evening and mingle with some of the best photographers in our area. Light refreshments will be served throughout the evening.

Entries for this competition will be displayed at Hornsby Library from the 11th June and the winning entries will be on display within the glass link bridge at Westfield Hornsby from the 15th June.

Please RSVP etc etc"

Then I thought:

a) who is the Mayor?

b) they probably invite everyone so don't get my hopes up right?

c) do light refreshments mean drinks?

d) who will I take?

Still, a night out is a night out - even if it's the local library!!

These are the two pics I entered under the category "Our Beautiful Bushland". What is hilarious is that I took the photos on my phone.

A Below Average Night

2009-06-09T09:24:00.002+10:00

So Crash has come down with Rowdy's virus and was up for hours coughing last night - a horrible cough too. He was to sleep on the lounge with Mr Chic so that I could get a good night's sleep in our bed. Well that was the plan.

We got him settled and put the tv on a timer and I went to bed to read for a while as I was wide awake - it was already midnight. At about 1am Crash wanders down "Mum, the tv turned itself off and Dad is asleep" so he climbed into bed with me and then coughed for the next hour or so.

Just as we were both drifting off to sleep I'm woken by Rowdy half crying from the next room. I went in to check on him and he appeared to be having a nightmare and was asleep so I went back to bed. 5 minutes later he's crying again and calling "Mum!!", no escaping this time so back up I get. He tells me that there are bugs on his fingers and his pillow. I feel his pillow in the dark and there is a big wet patch, I can vaguely see in the dark that it's a dark wet patch, WTF? I flick the light on and there is a pool of blood on his pillow - he's had a nosebleed. I then stayed up for the next half an hour to make sure his nose had stopped and cleaning up him and his bed. I convince him that he should go back to sleep on the promise that if I get sleep I can buy chocolate donuts at work tomorrow. This works and I'm allowed back to bed.

I then can't sleep - Crash is beside me, coughing periodically in his sleep and I'm worrying about the cause of Rowdy's nosebleed (his first one). Finally at 3.30am I manage to sleep, but wake hourly until it's time to get up and get ready for work.

The boys got to stay home from preschool today - no such luck for me.

Why I love my boys

2009-06-08T11:41:00.006+10:00

What are little boys made of?

Snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails

That's what little boys are made of !

"What are little girls made of?

"Sugar and spice and all things nice

That's what little girls are made of!"

So they're rough and they wrestle and think "bottom burps" are hilarious. They love cars and guns and riding their bikes at great speeds through the house. There is no pink, there are no tea-sets, there are no dolls. I wouldn't have it any other way!!

My boys are polite and loving and kind and helpful - ok, so not all of the time, but they are kids after all. I'm so proud of how they are growing up. I love their hugs and kisses. I love being told "I yuv you Mum". I love when they stop playing just to talk to me and tell me something. I love Crash rubbing my shoulders "is that nice Mum?". I love it when they help me and after I thank them they say "oh you're welcome Mum".

I love that they think I'm a good cook. I love that they call for their Dad when they need monsters eradicated at bedtime. I love when they talk to me on the phone at work and sing me songs. I love their humour and their cheeky smiles.

I just love my boys to bits.

Mixin' and a Makin' and a Shakin' and a Bakin'

2009-06-08T11:15:00.007+10:00

I am not a Domestic Goddess. I am not a chef. Hell, I'm not even much of a cook, but I love cooking things with my boys - they have to be simple though as I have the patience of a toddler.

I own a few cook books and occasionally I'll drag one out and bake something from scratch. I've discovered a simple biscuit recipe that I actually have the ingredients for in my pantry (that's often half the problem with trying something new). This particular plain bikkie recipe is designed to be rolled out flat and chopped up with cookie cutters. As I don't own a rolling pin (told you I don't cook much) I decided this time we'd just roll up little balls of dough in our fingers and squash them down into biscuits. The boys loved the idea and happily rolled and squashed. Then I added a "Freckle" on to each biscuit before baking the little treasures (and demolishing the remaining freckles with the boys). I think they turned out well!

As the biscuit recipe uses 2 egg yolks I then used the remaining egg whites to make some meringues. Crash and Rowdy requested they be pink so I attempted pink rose shaped meringues. Not so good on the shaping but who cares really - they finished just how I like them with a soft gooey centre.

Next it was a quick cupcake which I cheated making and used a packet mix for - but really, it's just the packet mix, an egg and some milk and mix and that's it - chuck in patty papers and bake. Once cooled I did some choccie icing and dipped them in hundreds and thousands. I'm now finding hundreds and thousands everywhere in the house. Oooops.

The boys of course got to lick the beaters everytime and managed to completely overdose on sugar (as did I). 2 days later and I still have some bikkies, cakes and meringues left - unbelievable I know!!!

Little Miss Tour Guide

2009-06-04T16:25:00.005+10:00

My girlfriend is currently working as a tour guide, taking groups on the Trans Siberian Railway from Beijing to Russia. She emails me regularly with her travel log and writes so well that it feels like I'm there with her. It's a good read and I thought I'd share. Here is her latest email.

BEIJING:
I lingered at the hostel for as long as possible before
resigning myself to the move across town to the new hotel the Travel Company
is using. In a bid to save money, they have abandoned our usual poor
quality hotel in the centre of town for another poor quality hotel now
located in the outskirts of the city. Essentially this means that any
time a group member wants to do some sight-seeing, go shopping, have a
meal or see a show etc they need to catch a taxi across the entire
city. As you can well imagine, this can become an expensive exercise
when teemed with Beijing’s heavy traffic. It took 40 minutes for the
taxi to transport me to the outskirts of the city and I was decidedly
unenthusiastic upon my arrival to the Tiantian Jiari hotel. This was
for a couple of reasons – not only was I due to meet the group in a
few hours but I knew I was going to be sharing with a group member, so
effectively for the next 31 days I have absolutely no privacy and no
“down” time to relax away from the group.

The issue of my Kazakhstan visa still had not been
resolved – the last email I got from the Travel Company told me I would have
to stay behind in Beijing while the group left for Xian, and after I
collected the passport I would catch the train to try and catch up
with the group before they left Xian. As the Travel Company would have to pay
for one of the local guides to go with the group to Xian, it seemed a
bit pointless for me for me to stay behind when they could pay the
same amount and have someone else collect my passport and bring it to
Xian for me – I’m not actually required to collect it in person, the
Kazakhstan embassy is more than happy to hand it over to anyone. I
suggested this to the Travel Company and will wait to hear from them.

After checking into the hotel and heading up to my room,
it was partly with despair and partly with resignation that I realised
the room had a clear glass wall separating the bathroom from the
bedroom – meaning that anyone using the bathroom was easily seen from
the room. Nice. No wonder I hate sharing! The group member I was to
share with had apparently not arrived yet, and I didn’t dare pop into
the shower when she should be arriving any second. To find me in the
shower when she walks into the room - that’s not the kind of first
impression I was hoping to make!! So I went without the shower and
instead got ready for the pre-departure meeting. At 5pm I met the
group for the first time, and what an eclectic group they are!! I
have 3 Australians, who consist of a woman, her younger brother and
her friend (all in their 60’s). The woman I am sharing with is a
Canadian engineer who is a little younger than me, and then I have 2
lesbian couples who are all friends in their 50’s and 60’s from the
UK... among them they number a head mistress and an OBE recipient!
They all seem really nice, and I am marginally amused that I am
setting off for one of the strictest Islamic countries in the world
for the first time in a group that consists of 8 women and 1 man. If
we make it through this alive, it will be a bloody miracle.

Our time in Beijing was fairly straightforward, with the
main entertainment coming unexpectedly from one Australian woman who
was hesitant to try the local food. Due to our more remote location in
the city, there was no one around who spoke English, and no tourist
restaurants with English menus. This meant that on the few occasions
when we tried to eat around the local area, we had an uphill battle to
choose food that wasn’t of the exotic variety. We usually resorted to
charades describing various animals like chickens or cows, and figured
that at least that would prevent weird things like eel and offal
coming out. But alas, our idea of the edible parts of animals differs
from the Chinese, and on more than one occasion this poor Australian
woman ended up with chicken heads – intact – on her plate. Needless
to say, this was not received enthusiastically. It became somewhat of
a group joke about the magnetic attraction of chicken heads to this
woman, and she was not allowed to order at restaurants for the rest of
our time in Beijing.

From Beijing we caught the train to Xian, and this was when
it became apparent my number was up – literally! With 8 group members
and myself, and compartments on the train being 4-berth, I came to the
sudden realisation that I was going to be spending the next month
travelling east to west across the largest continent on Earth on
trains where I would be in a confined space with 3 strangers where I
didn’t speak the languages. My joy knew no bounds.

When I got on the Xian train, I felt a momentary hope
when I saw a Caucasian woman about my age in the cabin already. Turns
out she was an American who had married a Chinese man, and they were
heading to Xian to visit his family. Sounded all very nice until she
revealed that also travelling with her & her husband was a
sister-in-law and her two small children, and that they would all be
in the 4-berth cabin with me!! My first train trip of the season,
isolated from my group and now with 6 people in 4 beds in a space
roughly 2 metres wide. And two of them were highly excitable and
restless children. There wasn’t a lot of peace on that journey, let
me tell you.

It was with a touch of relief that I got off in Xian, and
we were collected by our local guide and taken to the hotel. Unlike
the Beijing hotel, this one was centrally located and meant that we
could walk to a lot of the attractions around Xian. Other than a
scheduled trip to the Terracotta Warriors, the group had almost 2 full
days free on their own to sight-see in Xian, and rather than try and
follow them as they scattered to different parts of the city I decided
to pretty much leave them all to their own devices. I did take them
for a walk through the Muslim Quarter of town to orient them to the
street layout and show them some of my favourite street vendors
selling local Muslim food. The four women from the UK are very
adventurous when it comes to trying street food but the Australians
are not, so more often than not we’d buy something to try and share it
5 or 6 ways, with the Aussies opting out. It’s a bit of a shame for
them as they miss out on some fantastic stuff but I can understand
that they don’t want to get sick.

After our time finished in Xian it was back to the train
station to head towards Turpan in the far north west of China. From
this point onwards I was completely in the dark as to things to see or
do and what to expect, as I have not been to western China before. My
three companions on this train were Chinese women, 2 of them quite
elderly who seemed to have a penchant for turning the radio up to
eardrum shattering decibel level and leaving it that way all day.
Rather than music though, it played a woman talking for minutes at a
time, interspersed with a riff or two of Chinese music. I rather
suspect that it was religious radio but regardless of what the woman
was saying, all I know was that being on the top bunk meant that my
ear was alarmingly close to the speaker in the roof. It was one of
the more irritating things I have experienced recently, and when my
subtle turning down of the radio whenever they left the room failed to
give them the hint that possibly not everyone in the cabin was
enjoying the racket, I was forced to resort to outright treachery.

I discovered that by stretching my arm between the wall and
the top of my bed, I could just reach the radio controls. When they
lay down to nap, I would turn the radio off, but usually just as I was
subsequently settling down for a nap of my own they would wake up and
turn it back on. Enough was enough, I was becoming homicidal. I
waited until they were both out of the room and using my steak knife,
pried the knob off the radio after turning it off. I then hid the
knob in my luggage so they couldn’t find it again. Normally I don’t
condone destruction of public property but if it came to using my
steak knife on them or the knob, I figured they were still getting the
best of the deal. They quickly realised what I had done, and did a
bit of yelling at me in Chinese but I just shrugged and looked at them
blankly. So they went to the conductor and complained, dragging him
into the room to show him the disappearance of the radio controls and
he asked me something but I did my best innocent look with wide open
eyes and told him politely that I only speak English. He put the
whole thing in the “too hard” basket and left, much to the frustration
of the two elderly women. For the rest of the journey I was subjected
to glares from the women but as it was accompanied by the blissful
sound of silence I could afford to smile back ever so sweetly. When
the train arrived in Turpan I allowed them to exit first and carefully
placed the knob back in place as I headed out. Mission successful.

Real-Life Teddy

2009-06-03T09:31:00.005+10:00

Rowdy ("3 next birfday") protests about going to bed - daily. Crash goes off to bed no problem and is an absolute dream in comparison - he actually tells us off if we make too much noise. Rowdy never wants to go to bed and once he's in bed there is a succession of delaying tactics; "I want to read for a little bit", so we cave and let him read for 5 minutes and then it's lights out. Then we get "Mum! Mum!" and discover "there's a monster!", so we kill off the monsters and go out again. Thankfully "Mum Mum" has turned into "Dad, Dad" as Dad is far better at monster eradication. Last night Rowdy called me in and I was thinking he was wanting our cat Bailey out of his room. Nope, he wanted Bailey under his sheets, with him. Bailey obliged and then got pats and cuddles and loving up until the point Rowdy fell asleep!! Fantastic! A real-life teddy!! He stayed for hours and looked pretty cosy. Let's hope Bailey is good at monster-nabbing too!!

A Talented Me

2009-05-25T10:10:00.004+10:00

Dinner Saturday night was brilliant - great food, good company, lots of laughs and a rare event that we actually left the house on our own without children. It was still early after we finished dinner so we decided to head to the local RSL for a couple of drinks. It started pouring (more like bucketing) so we were running along the road so as not to get too wet. It didn't really matter as I was soaked before long. I should add I was looking pretty darn good in my jeans and jacket and Nicola Finnetti boots. After the rain the look was more drowned rat than sex goddess. Anyhoo.

After a couple of drinks at the RSL we thought we'd leave via the back way which was down a flight of stairs and walk through the carpark to get back to our car which was parked a few streets away. All sounding good up until the point where my ankle gave way and I fell down the stairs. I grabbed the bannister as I spun around backwards but still ended up sprawled ever-so-glamorously on the stairs. After I made sure I hadn't ruined my boots (they are fine, thank god), I stood up (and couldn't stop giggling) to find our neighbour standing with us (he works nights at the RSL) - great, more people to witness my embaressment. I hobbled back to the car, giggling the whole way too but the pain in my ankle started to get worse and worse.

Sunday was spent with my foot up and being iced on and off all day, lots of bruising but I'm fairly positive it's just a sprain. Wonderful Hubby ran around and got me some crutches and played nurse and taxi and dealt with the kids. He was brilliant.

Flat shoes for me for a while!!!

Twitterest Loser

2009-05-20T18:07:00.005+10:00

So there are a small group of us Twitterettes who are commencing a healthy-eating Tweek Up before the big MamaMeetUp. This is more something out of necessity for myself physically and mentally. I used to frequent the gym before I changed jobs 18 months or so ago. Then my boys started to forget who I was and my eldest, Crash, started to get shy around me. This broke my heart and my long hours with my job combined with the gym had to stop. Now my relationship with my kids is great and my new job also great, but my health is suffering. It's a sad old circle really, I don't exercise, I feel depressed, I then eat chocolate and down and down the spiral we go. So now I'm back to where I was immediately after the arrival of Rowdy (child number 2). All that hard work at the gym is wasted, all that lost weight is now found. We start all over again. *sigh* But that is how it goes with me, up and down, like a yo-yo. Why I used to clear out the wardrobe when I change size I'll never understand - much easier just to have a lot of things in different sizes, however, really, storage is an issue and shopping is fun.

Here's the plan:

Step 1: Cut back on alcohol. *looking disparingly at sky* oooooookay

Step 2: Drink more water - yes, noted, this is a must do

Step 3: Cut back on snacks. Cut them out and I'll go nuts, so lets cut them back and make healthier choices shall we.

Step 4: Watch portion sizes of meals - well I've started doing this. It's all about smarter choices really.

Step 5: Exercise - Mr Tread Mill arrives on Saturday. Not entirely sure of the eventual home for him but I think it will be in the loungeroom and as far away from Crash's room as possible - noise keeps him awake at night and he certainly lets us know if we're making too much noise. Crash gets called "The Fun Police" on occasion, but the poor boy is just trying to get to sleep.

I'm not going to disclose my current weight or my goal weight - forget it! I'll just put up a gorgeous pic of me when I really do look like Wonderwoman!

Incidently, Crash and Rowdy aren't their real names, but they probably should be. Crash is 4 and a half (and starting school next year) and Rowdy is almost 3.

Get to Know Me (if you dare)

2009-05-20T11:03:00.021+10:00

I thought this was a good way to start my blog - a bit of a "get to know you" visual game (as pinched from the lovely Amanda from http://domesticgoddessonlplates.blogspot.com/ ).

The idea is to hit google and publish images which represent your answers to the questions. Excellent time waster...

1. Your age on your next birthday

2. Your favourite colour

3. Your middle name

(I have 2 middle names!)

4. The last meal you ate

5. Your bad habit

6. Favourite fruit/vegetable

7. Your favourite animal

8. The town you live in

9. The most useful thing in your house

10. Your most recent purchase

11. Something that makes you happy

I googled "fishing with kids" and this t-shirt came up. I want it!

12. Your first name

13. Your last name

The First

2009-05-19T17:39:00.005+10:00

So I've started a blog. Yay for me. What is the purpose of this? An online diary for the world to read? A forum for me to vent and rant and rave and carry on because no one will read this anyway?

Not sure.

Watch this space. Or don't.