Kabloom!

Hello internet! I have been AWOL lately thanks to some idiot driving a stolen car into a power pole in my street causing a massive power surge sent to destroy my home appliances. Seriously, crazy! I woke up at 2am a fortnight ago to the fan spinning wildly, lights popping, power points sizzling.. scary stuff. It meant to end to several important members of my family; computer *sob*, tv *sniff*, surround sound etc. It also burned out the cable internet.

She's back though.

I have all this stuff to share, but my mind is a mess. I have been working my metaphorical arse off this week, and will be up in a few hours to open the shop tomorrow. So I'll catch up on my precious internet after that.

Peace out x

It's okay

Parenthood is one hard motherfucker.


I am a mean mother!


Some days I feel like a stranger standing outside myself watching my parenting and I am shocked at what I see. Why do I yell so much? Is the kid really being that unruly or is he just being three? I'm sure pregnancy hormones are part of the problem at the moment, along with being off certain medications (albeit natural) to help with stress. I don't know what's going on with the man of the house but he seems to pretty much clock out as soon as he gets home from work and hit the booze lately, leaving me to deal with the kid.


Yesterday was a difficult one for me, and by dinner time I just wanted to cry. So I served up the food, put one of my favourite music dvds on loud and jumped in the shower to destress. Hubby being the pain in the arse that he is started skipping through songs to find one he felt like listening to, then almost like magic he landed on my favourite of the whole lot, probably of any dvd ever invented. It's the magic of Eddie Vedder picking up a note passed through the crowd at the end of Daughter and going with it. It is exactly what I needed to hear last night while the water was cleansing me of my shitty mother-ness.

I can't figure out how to embed it at the start of the song I'm referring to, so enjoy some Daughter first or skip to 4:00 

It's been a loooong day

This song has come to mind more than a few times today. I don't know what it was about today, but it really kicked my arse. Work wasn't particularly busy, I didn't have a particularly bad sleep last night (I am pregnant, so I did put a load of washing on at 2am...) but I have been so freaking pooped today.

Today marks 16 weeks and according the the baby book, there is an avocado-sized kid in my belly. Maybe that explains the fatigue... and the lack of words to complete this post.

Ni night!

Is it depressing in here, or is it just me?

I'm having a bad day. Like, scream at the kid until I burst into tears bad. He is annoying the absolute shit out of me even now, singing the ABCs on the lounge chair while eating a vegemite scroll. Stupid song, stupid messy scroll. Just yesterday I sat in a doctor's office discussing how awesome I am at handling my depression and how I've got this and I don't want any assistance. It's like yesterday I had rose coloured glasses on, and this morning I woke up and some arse hole has hidden them. Yesterday, and for many months before, I have been TOTALLY FINE.

I've been waiting for this day, I knew it was on the way. I wasn't naive enough to think I was just suddenly cured. It's so frustrating to be reminded that I don't have it all under control, and right now is possibly the worst time to try and lean on my husband for support. He is already leaning on me and I've started to gurgle a bit under the water. I just want to scream.

Right now my house is a bomb site. There is a big pot of ravioli in the electric frypan from last night- Rick was already drunk as a skunk when I got home and I was too mad to eat it or put it away. Axel didn't even sleep on sheets last night because the stupid dog pulled them off the line and pissed on them while I was at work. There are approximately 7000 hot wheels cars strewn across the lounge room floor and I'm 90% sure I saw something move on the dining room table.

Fuck today, I'm going back to bed.

Picture perfect

I'm not going to lie, my life is as boring if not more so than my blog. Which means the photos in my phone, well, boring. But here are a few that I carefully selected to share on facebook to make it look like I do interesting things. I'm sharing them here for Eden's Fresh Horses.

I'm a lucky wife, even if my husband doesn't know
how to put dirty undies in the laundry basket

Who doesn't snap photos of tiny geckos
while on the can?

Cat latte, obviously

Unmade bed and 14 week bump/food baby

A spidey that stayed on my windscreen
for a 20km trip to work on the freeway 

Kid and me getting ant bites

Undies boxing in the hall. I'd be in big
trubz if he ever sees this on the internets

Poison 

At a birthday party - before he gets a toy

and after. That's the birthday boy on the
left, obviously his mother is a better teacher
of humility than me

Confessions of a Housewife

I really hate laundry. Like, with a seething, undying passion. The backdoor JERK neighbour has this overgrown flame tree that hangs over my clothesline encouraging all kinds of creepy crawlies to live in my peg basket. I grew up with a hippy father who didn't like us using electricity unnecessarily so I know that the dryer is bad.. but I totally wait for days like today to actually do the laundry. It's raining, oh well, I'll have to use the dryer!

I have never cleaned my bin. Hubby had a little fit a few weeks ago when we awoke to maggots, yes maggots, on the kitchen floor. It was putrid and terrifying, but I still haven't cleaned the bin. What's the point? I'm only going to put more rubbish in it.

Whenever my mother comes to visit I turn into a mad scrubbing machine trying to make the house presentable. That is the only time my bathroom ever meets any kind of mould remover or glass cleaner. This is also the only time I'll dust. I like that the parentals don't visit too often because I wouldn't want hubby to get used to a bathroom that shiny.

Having confessed to these little feral undertones, my house is actually really tidy. I get really stressed out when there is shit everywhere. The beds are always made and ready for a certain three year old to jump on and mangle. The loo gets cleaned freakishly regularly because of that same three year old who is still learning to aim... can't stand the smell of wees on the floor! The kitchen especially is always clean. Well, except for nights when I'm tired and hubby has cooked (read- turned the kitchen into a bomb site). Those nights I rinse the crap and leave it for future Amy to sort out. Future Amy is always pissed in the morning.

I am a good cook. I chuck onions and garlic into a jar of anything and vòila! If I'm having a lazy night I just text Rick and tell him I'm cooking something new and innovative and he'll say he's eaten at work already. Then Axel and I eat toast.

Best. Housewife. Ever!

Blogging fun!

My pal Robyn from Slightly More Depth Than a Teaspoon tagged me in a blogging game. This makes my Sunday morning mucho exciting! So far all I've done is pull a rotten banana out of the bird's cage and eat two bowls of cereal.


Describe yourself in seven words 
Busy, tired, tolerant, passionate, impatient, hard working


What keeps you up at night?
Well, last night it was my newly divorced neighbour entertaining a house full of gentlemen. The night before it was the service station across the road getting ram-raided by some teenagers in a stolen van. I kid you not, living on a main road has its noisy burdens. But in all seriousness, the usual anxieties that come with motherhood have meant I haven't been a deep sleeper since September 3, 2008. That's the day a slimy little pink guy came into my life and required me to always have one ear open. He fell out of bed the other night and I was in there beside him before he even registered what happened. He is currently awaiting an operation to remove his tonsils and over-sized adnoids, so I'm not afraid to say I am that mum that goes in and puts my hand in front of his nose to make sure he's breathing oh, two times a night at least.


Who would you like to be?
Well, I realise there isn't a lot of use wishing I was the rockstar alter ego of my teens, but I still let myself dream. In all seriousness though, I just want to be better at being me. And I'm really trying. Pregnancy hormones are kicking my ass a bit at the moment, but I do think I'm on the road to being a more fulfilled, calmer, happier person. Right now my kid keeps throwing cushions at me and I'm not even hardly yelling at him almost.


What are you wearing right now?
An old floral dress my mum picked up from St. Vinnie's for me. It's my go-to outfit for the house as I don't need to wear a bra, but if the neighbour calls me over to the fence (which he will almost certainly do when I go outside to put clothes on the line) he can't see my nips. And I have made an effort to get out of the pjs by 9am... which lets face it, I should be celebrated for.


What scares you?
Getting to the end of my life and realising I didn't fulfill my dreams. It goes hand in hand with not knowing what my dreams are and wondering if I'm doing it all wrong. Also, my kids turning out to be total jerks when they grow up. Or bankers. Or Australian National Party pollies.


What are the best and worst things about blogging?
The best is it makes me feel part of something, especially in this new era of bloggers networking with memes and games like this. It gives me a reason to babble on in the hopes I can connect with someone.
The worst is feeling on the outside sometimes, like the cool kids all belong to a click and I don't have a cool enough lunch box to sit with them.


What is the last website you visited?
My Sizzling September Mummy's facebook group. Today there is a candid discussion on how often you give it up to your partner. It's full of women who are due the same month as me and I'm finding it to be an awesome aspect of social media. Last pregnancy I was all alone, this time I have the world right there. Awesome. 


What is one thing you would like to change about yourself?
Physically, there are loads of things, but I'll wait til September before I'll start picking myself to pieces. There are things I hope to change about my life this year, specifically getting back into uni to finish off my diploma of education. But I am having a hard time imagining me studying full time with a newborn baby.
 *dance break*



Slankets - yes or no?
Anything that frees your hands up for a glass of wine and a bowl of cheezels while still keeping you snug? Come on, get with the times, man!


Tell us something about the person who tagged you
Robyn and I were childhood friends and now we are bloggy friends. She has a beautiful family and a beautiful soul. 


Now the tricky part: tag five bloggers so they can share ten things about themselves. 
I am pretty new to the blogesphere so I don't have a network of people to tag, so if you're reading this, I tag you! Leave me a comment so I can go and read ten things about you, and then we can be buddies, ok!?

Much muchness

Life is ticking by here in Amy Springs. It's hot and boring and I always have something to complain about. Today we are chilling and doing laundry and waiting for something to happen. Axel is counting down until tonight when Racing Stripes is on tv. Sometimes I wish I was a kid again, simpler times.

I remember over four years ago I was in my final year at uni and spending 50% of my time working my arse off waiting tables and tending a bar, 2% of my time putting in a little effort at uni and the other 48% of the time getting shit-faced. Stupid little things seemed so important and life was so hard man. It was also mind-numbing and I remember laying in bed at The Acid House (the share house of your dreams) wishing something, anything would happen. I didn't expect that something to come in the form of a surprise fetus, but them's the cards you's dealt!

I try to remember this when I have days like today. The grass is always greener huh. My time now is split 50% working my arse off waiting on tables, 50% being housekeeper/wife/mother/zookeeper/secretary/banker/shopper/stylist-to-the-stars... Soon I can chuck responsible for a brand new life into the mix. And then I will lay in bed at night wondering if he's breathing and when he's going to need another feed and if my milk is substantial enough and why can't I sleep and god I wish I could sleep and I hope Axel has mercy and leaves me alone in the morning when he gets up ridiculously early to watch cartoons.

For today I will take boring and laundry and I might even wash the car and bathe the stinky dogs.

Who is Joseph Kony?

I saw this video someone shared on facebook this morning. My initial reaction was '30 minutes? This better be funny'. It isn't funny at all, but it is important and it is taking social media by storm.

Watch the video. Share the video. Sign the petition. It's a good cause! Joseph Kony is the number 1 most wanted man for war crimes against society, that's nutburgers!

I am in awe of how quickly this has spread. I'm sure people have tried similar tactics before without this kind of speedy success; albeit usually for marketing purposes for stupid things we will buy that we don't need. This morning I had never heard of Joseph Kony, and I am a frequent tumblr, twitter and facebook user. Tonight it is everywhere like wild fire. It's the amazing power of social media.

Do Angels Exist?

Source:  http://goth-and-magic-world.blogspot.com.au/   

I have always been a morbid kind of person. I grew up believing in ghosts and angels and demons, so definitely that I would lie awake at night with the covers over my head terrified to look out into the darkness. In our house in the country you had to pass a screen door to get to the bathroom. Late night pee breaks would fill me with dread. I would close my eyes and run past that door for fear of the Mothman or some freaky dark angel standing under the clothesline.

 My mother has a strong connection to the afterlife. Or fascination with it. I don't know, but don't ask her if you get spooked easily. The day I told her I don't have a guardian angel she kind of shot me this 'oh god, she knows'  face. She denies any recollection of this at all now. Mum on the other hand has so many angels. She sees them all the time in various things, in butterflies in particular. I think it's a bit cliché how many people see their butterfly angels, but it must be an easy way for angels to communicate with their peeps.

Anyway, for years I believed I don't have an angel. I asked and looked and begged and meditated on it. It's a similar feeling of rejection that I got when I'd ask and beg for Jesus to be my pal and walk with me the way he walks with mormons and stuff. It didn't seem fair to me and I convinced myself that it must be my soul; maybe I've done bad things in a previous life?

The angel above my son's bed

These days I am pretty sure that someone is looking out for me in some capacity. This year has been a big overhaul of beliefs and spirituality for me, and it's only March. I'm not in a rush to figure out the meaning of life, but I know what I feel and I feel that an angel might have found me. I really think spirituality and psyche go hand in hand; and unhealthy psyche leads to an unhealthy spirituality and vice versa. Maybe that's why I have had this awakening of ease - I'm getting better.



Eden from Edenland take photos of the feathers her angels leave behind. What do you believe?

Challenge Accepted!

Ok, so I'm really enjoying linking up each week for the Edenland memes. Now I've gotten all cocky and decided I can manage this mammoth challenge that has been taking place each month. It's as simple as it looks- post a photo every day from the prompts. I'm going to TRY and take part on twitter and probably only but a few of the good ones on this blog. I don't know.. will it be boring? Will I rise to the challenge or totally forget by day three? Stay tuned! 

Theeey're heerre

Well, not yet. But they will be this time tomorrow. The parentals are visiting! That sentence is equal parts exciting and terrifying for the whole family. They are only here for three days but mum has broken her knee and unable to move around, so it should be interesting.

My parents live far, far away (six hours west 'in the sticks') and always come bearing gifts of goods mum has found at various op shops and random bits of shit my dad has found and sanded back. Oh, and booze. This time around of course I'm up the duff so unable to enjoy a tipple, but watching them will be entertaining enough. And then of course we'll have some form of argument and dad and I will stomp off angrily in opposite directions, then ignore each other til Sunday when they drive home.

Love parents visiting!

I don't like Mondays (but Sundays are alright)

Our present routine means that my hubster and I don't get a day off together. Most Sundays when he can swing it though, Rick comes home after lunch so we can do something cool together. It both sucks and rocks at the same time; while the time together is sparse it means we feel inspired to spend it actually doing something.

Yesterday we did stuff! Stuff included: 

-- Gallery of Modern Art (GoMA)

'We Miss You Wonderland' children's exhibition- and a child who
didn't want to be photographed with mum

Yayoi Kusama 'Look Now, See Forever' exhibition  

-- A stroll along the murky brown waters of the Brisbane River - honestly I don't know why we don't appreciate our city more. 

-- An expensive lunch at South Bank that was so putrid I'm surprised we're still here. Notable mention the the Ibis who attacked Axel and made off with his lunch (probably saving his life). Seriously though, never eat at Cosmos at South Bank, we are considering calling the health department. 

-- Followed by THE BEST DINNER EVER at our new favourite Thai restaurant in Sunnybank. We have been frequenting this restaurant since discovering it late last year and it just keeps getting better. The service is bad enough that you have to laugh, but the food is good enough that you don't care. 

The weekend is of course over, but we couldn't resist carrying our lazy holiday mood over to tonight when we took Axel out to Montezuma's. Good chow and great sangria at our local (which conveniently, I waitressed at during uni so I know the good hook ups!) which made for a great night. Axel and Rick are both comatose on my bed watching a bad movie now and I plan on having a lie down on Axel's bed while my food baby and my actual baby battle for space in my belly. 

Really, it's only Monday?

Confessions of a Newlywed

I really hate my husband's hair. I fully expected him to give up his 'grow it like Eddie Vedder' quest before the wedding day and thought he was joking when he showed me a hat he bought to wear. 

I spend a few nights a week in the spare bed because I cannot stand snoring. I don't know what my fate will be when the bed goes to make room for the baby's nursery. 

I secretly think I make better stirfrys than my executive chef husband.

I personally don't think marriage is a necessary institution, and I look at girls my age and younger who get excited over weddings as morons. I'm not a hypocrite; I just like to make my husband happy. I'm confident that we will go the distance, so in a way getting hitched was like making a wager on it.

I don't like some of my in laws. SHOCK! My husband doesn't like some of mine but he is much more vocal about it. 

Sometimes I sneakily throw dumb shit of my husband's in the wheelie bin on rubbish day. He hasn't noticed anything yet. I do the same with his 'favourite' undies when they get holey. What is with men and attachment to jocks? 

We have game nights where we play chess, monopoly, uno etc. and I cheat mercilessly. I don't usually win though, which is why I think it's okay.

Do you have any confessions? 

Apologies

I've spent years being sorry.

Sorry and self deprecating and pessimistic and inward and shy. I've spent 24 years with the heavy guilty of a catholic upbringing on my shoulders. I used to get dragged to mass on Sundays to sit in front of a priest and apologize for shit, often making up things to be sorry about when I couldn't think of anything good enough. I spent my high school years being sorry that I didn't fit in, feeling sorry for myself. And sorry that my parents wouldn't buy me brand name runners and I wasn't allowed to shave my legs. I lost count of how many times I gave teary apologies to my ballet teacher when my dad wouldn't pay for 'waste of time' lessons.

When I left home for uni I was suddenly sorry for not being all that was expected of me from my boyfriend. Sorry that I didn't feel the love of Jesus in my heart and didn't enjoy cramming for exams to become a star student the way he did. I was always apologizing for being myself. The day I had to tell him I'd gotten knocked up by some mean older guy from my work lives uncomfortable in my memory. Oh, how sorry I was the day I had to tell my dad. I was so sorry to the kid as well; sorry you landed this mangled wreck of a couple for parents. As I struggled with PND and Rick with having a girlfriend who he got knocked up who had developed PND I found myself sorry enough to consider taking the cowards' way out.

Then something really amazing happened. I don't know how, and I can't pin point a time when, but something has changed. My soul has grown. My depression has shrunk. Suddenly I have a new found inspiration that grew from my own self. I realized I don't need to file my beliefs into an organised religion and all of a sudden the world feels so big and wonderful. I realized that I am doing a good job as a mum and actually make quite the kick-ass wife.

I no longer hate myself!

And I'm not sorry at all.





Linked up with Edenland for this sucker, sorry that's all I seem to do lately :)

Feeling Good

Birds flying high - you know how I feel
Sun in the sky - you know how I feel
Fat lady pulling your shirt down over your saddle bags - you especially know how I feel.

(It's fat. I feel fat. But also happy and tired.)

My peeps

I'm a bit slow to board the meme train this week. Last weekend's Edenland Fresh Horses Brigade is about sharing your 'people' on the interwebs. I don't really have any people, but I do have my bookmarks toolbar up there on my browser of the blogs I regularly visit. So thems the tricks:

In no particular order.

Edenland - I can't remember for the life of me how I came across this blog, but I adore it. An Australian mum keeping a journal of her one wild life. It's pretty incredible. She has a way with words, and to be honest a pretty interesting story to tell. Eden is also a total bad-ass. Of course, if you came here via the Wild Horses link then you already know this. 

Enjoying The Small Things - a painfully beautiful Californian family fronted by Kelle Hampton. She tells stories with amazing photography and an unmatched zest for life. Sometimes I read her blog and feel like the most plain, uninteresting woman in the world. But I also find myself inspired to grab life by the balls and just live it. I really love this blog.

Slightly More Depth Than a Teaspoon - a woman I went to school with who keeps a blog about her family life. It's quite surreal to reconnect all these years later (ok, we're not that old) when we've grown up and had babies. Our lives are different but the same, and sometimes when I read it takes me back to the best bits of my childhood. 

The Superficial - a total shift of pace. This celebrity gossip blog is completely politically incorrect and very offensive. It makes me snort my coffee out my nose and keeps me coming back for more. I keep sharing bits on facebook and no one seems to get it. It's hilarious ok, get a sense of humour!

My Baby Is Average - a potential megalomaniac who stills wears nappies. I can totally relate.

That's it. Well, that's not it, but that's it for today.

Dirty little secret

So, I really dig hip hop. Australian hip hop to be precise, although I am a sucker for some Eminem (Rick banned me from playing him in the car due to a certain three year old declaring "Fuck you Debbie!" at the top of his lungs in Coles). I used to have a really good friend who was always pushing her favourite Australian hip hop bands onto me. We had a falling out and I was really confused at the dissolution of the friendship; I thought we were really close and had even asked her to be my bridesmaid but she dropped me like a sack of potatoes after I caught her out on a white lie. I was hurt at the realisation that I didn't place high on her friendship scale, but put it down to her age. And as I am a firm believer in all things having a purpose, I realise now that she was just put there to introduce me to the music. Cheers buttface!

Anyway, what I'm getting to, is this is my Sunday feel good song. And it's hip hop, so hence the coming out. I'm going to make this a thing.

I am feeling very good today. My husband has been having a very hard time at work so he took a few days off to spend chilling out at home. He's currently doing a dump run with my father in law, because that man doesn't know the meaning of chilling out. He lets things build up inside until he loses his mind and drinks himself into oblivion, but lately that has been so regular that I can see him flailing and trying to find another outlet.

So yesterday we jumped in the car and drove to the water. We spent the day at Redcliffe reminiscing about the last time we were there (our wedding!) and bathed ourselves in the sun and dipped our feet in the ocean. Axel enjoyed the awesome playground and we talked.

It was a beautiful day. Our circumstance at the moment has Rick working 12 hour days six days a week, and on the seventh he stays at home with our kid while I work. It is tiring but it is necessary at the moment, but it means when we get a weekend together we really make it a weekend. Soon we are heading over to his brother's house to enjoy a BBQ and swim in the pool with the cousins.

It's a good day. And this is a good song, yo!

Woooah - Freak Out

Yesterday morning at the soul crumbling time of 5am my cherub son woke me up demanding Mr Maker on tv. Mr Maker comes on at 7am I do believe, but you can't reason with three year olds. Anyway, I fumbled through putting on a dvd and peanut buttering some toast to buy myself another half hour in bed and took a pit stop in the loo. Then I totally freaked out. Bright red blood on the paper sent me into a dizzy spin and by 6am I was in the emergency room.

By 9:30 I was having an ultrasound to see my little blob who was wriggling away happily with the same high heart rate as last week. It turns out I had a uterine bleed that could've been caused by any number of things, but generally speaking not taking it easy. I do believe I might have picked up a giant tv last week when rearranging my bedroom, or it might have been all those times Axel pretends to go limp when I lift him out of the bath. Either way, it was a nasty reminder that pregnant women aren't invincible.

I am so grateful that it's all ok, and that the staff at the emergency ward took my concerns seriously. I don't even mind that the doctor botched a drip and got blood all over my favourite skirt.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I did something drastic over the weekend. 

Before - not a great photo but the hair
is past my baps

Tense Hairdresser who made me wait
15 minutes before snipping

After

I'm not sure what possessed me to cut 15 inches of hair off on a whim, but I feel so damn good. I got some pretty crappy reviews at work today, but what do 16 year old boys know? This is as close as I will ever come to giving myself a no.1, which lets face it would be pretty awesome. I don't have the balls. Maybe when I'm 40 (which is apparently how old I look with my new haircut). 

I also changed the furniture in my room. LOOK OUT CRAZY WOMAN OVER HERE.

You can't spell Funeral without 'FUN'

Today's link up for Edenland's Fresh Neigh Neighs Brigade is a discussion on funeral songs.









I haven't attended many funerals in my life (furiously knocking on wood), other than grandmothers and uncles and what not. I have been fortunate, and I am more than aware and grateful. My mother works in a nursing home so she goes to a funeral every other week. I really don't know how she does it, and more so how it doesn't eat away at her compassion. She amazes me constantly. 
Death has a weird affect on me. I am fascinated, terrified and obsessed. Recently an old uni friend lost her husband to suicide and it had me in a tail spin of research and reading stories and sobbing over remembrance facebook pages. My husband gets his undies in a bunch if I try and share a sad story with him; he prefers to bury his head in the sand when it comes to tragedy and it worries me that one day someone close to him will die and he'll just explode. I think that if I face all this horror that exists in the world maybe I'll be spared, or at the very least prepared. Probs not, I seriously doubt my ability to handle a crisis considering my life has been such a garden of roses. 
I have thought about my funeral a lot. I have had heavy periods of depression where I've planned it and written my own eulogy (yagoogley) in my head. Songs change up a fair bit depending on the circumstance, but I have always envisioned it to be really sad. I know it's selfish, but I want a grey day with everyone in black. Followed by a rip-snorting party where everyone gets shitfaced and has fights followed by hugs and laughs about how amazing I was. For now I'll have to work on being amazing so I leave a legacy worth remembering behind. 
Possible Funeral Song 1.


Possible Funeral Song 2.



To be honest, all of what I just said is untrue. I really hope that when I die the people I leave behind remember that I spent my life trying to be a good person, and that I really loved everyone. I hope they realise that my body is just going to become part of the earth and that it is completely unnecessary to spend time and money on what happens to it: bury me in a box or cremate me and throw my ashes out to sea, whatever - I don't care and nor should they! All I really want in my life is to raise my kids to be good people who treat each other how they want to be treated.


The end!

Saturday Morning Quickie

I am about to rush off to work, but thought I'd have a quickie blog before I go. If I don't you might start to feel neglected and become passive-aggressive around the house and start spending all your time out with friends while I'm at home alone, and then I'll start to become frustrated and insecure and the whole thing will blow up in a flurry of angry words one day over toast at breakfast and we'll both leave for work really stressed out and angry.

Wait, you don't work, do you bloggy? Never mind!

My little man is spending the weekend down the coast with his Nanna. I'm 98% certain his aunt actually high jacked him last night for a sleepover at her house which weirds me out to no end. Families are complicated, and in laws double time complicated. I don't hold my sister in law in the highest regard, so when I got a text from mum-in-law last night of Axel snuggled up in his cousin's bed about to go to sleep I got kinda antsy. It was always assumed he would be at his Nanna's. But as long as he has a nice weekend and they don't have a horrific car crash on the way home on Sunday I am happy. Until then, the anxiety will drive my weekend.

And now, it's time to go to work, on a Saturday. Boo.

Edenland's first meme!

The totally amazing and probably the greatest blogger ever Eden from Edenland has begun creating memes for me to enjoy. Pretty stoked. It's funny that the first one gives me a chance to have a play with the subject of an argument Rick and I had this morning. Eden asked us to share our handwriting. And Rick really lets it blow up his skirt when I accidentally come to have his pens at my desk or in my handbag. 

Rick is an executive chef, or what's known in the hospitality world as a pen pusher chef. He had a whinge to me this morning that I keep pinching his good pens that he has to go to the stealthy lengths to steal  acquire from the receptionists and his club. He reckons he is only allowed one at a time, so he swaps a near empty pen for one full of ink. Like this guy I had in my bag today: 

I'm not even that into them. I like ball point pens I can put a lot of force into; I think they make my squiggly swirly handwriting a little neater. But all's fair in love and war. Or what's yours is mine. Whatever, I have a lot of these pens hiding around.

I actually get to write notes all day in my new job and I really dig it. Previously I was working in a restaurant where everything had to be entered on a touch screen, and I was surprised at how badly I missed writing things down. There is a silver lining to working crappy casual jobs in hospitality some times - see also this lovely scone I brought home from work last night. Deliciously free, just like that pen!

The Sky Is Falling

My home town is copping it from a moody Mother Nature tonight, for the third time in as many years. My big brother's house is under water but he doesn't mind; he has more money than sense and the old fibro house is taking up space on some beautiful land. If he were one of those mythical males who spoke their feelings though, I'm sure he'd have something pretty heartfelt to say about all his quaint home and all his possessions. A very dear friend to my family has lost her home. Twice over she lost her belongings in the previous floods, and a car in the most recent one. This time her house was on stilts being prepared for raising, and that has rendered her insurance null and void. The tragedy is she wasn't home when the creek burst its banks- she was nursing her ill sister who is undertaking chemo in Brisbane.

Why so mad, weather gods?

Roma floods, 3/02/2012

In other news I am upstairs blogging tonight to avoid the Mogger effect again. Rick is stuck in the den listening to the most recent woes of Mogger's love life. I would be more interested in a rusty nail to the toe than the latest twisted turn in the love triangle that my friends are involved in.

Not much is happening here, except that I am the wicked witch of the house. Nausea, food aversion and serious cranky pants are the main symptoms of this pregnancy so far, and Axel is really hating on me for it. I am going to pull up my socks and try and make tomorrow really like-the-movies fun for him, hopefully. So that means no fights, no hysterical yelling, no plonking him in front of a dvd while I facebook, and something more substantial than spaghetti on toast for lunch. We will see!

And I'm out.

Woe is Mogger

I had big plans for all the matches that were to be made at my wedding. I briefed my single brother on the who's who of my single girlfriends and watched eagerly as he and his retro suit worked the floor. One friend in particular caught his eye.. but it wasn't to be. She also caught the eye of Rick's mate Mogger. As it turns out, T and Mogger were to be the only match made at my wedding.

You dig this suit, don't you?

Cut to this week and the honeymoon is so, so over for the T+M team. Mogger has been on my couch every night, sulking into bowls of my food and enjoying my liquor. He is sad, and he will talk your ear off even if you are blogging and totally ignoring him. For serious, guys. I need a plan!

My friend T does not like people messing with her business. Early in the piece Mogger came around asking me advice on women and let it slip that he has been banging my friend. I did the usual "WOOHOO" to her which in turn got Mogger inked in the bad books. So I don't know hot to approach her about the recent troubles. I only hear his side obviously, but I am a woman and I do understand the inner workings of her twisted mind, I believe. And I really want my evenings with the couch, remote and husband to myself!

Hot as balls

Brisbane has been suffering a heat wave for the last three days. Or summer just started. Something like that. And it is kicking my ass. They say a pregnant woman's body runs two degrees hotter. Add giant bloat and nausea to that and you get a woman swearing never to copulate with her husband again so long as she may still be fertile. This sucks! To add insult to injury my lovely preggified eczema is back with a vengeance. The worst thing about having a visible ailment such as eczema is the do-gooders who are sans-eczema who try and advice you on remedies to cure your eczema. Even though they don't know what the hell they're talking about. Makes me to want to scream. It's sort of like a model trying to tell a.. well me how to be attractive. It doesn't count if you don't have first hand knowledge of the ailment.

Today something really cool happened. Cool things seldom happen to me, so this really blew up my skirt. I was sitting outside the cafe finishing off my lunch when a lady walked up and asked if she could sit and talk to me for a seminar she was creating. We chatted for ten minutes or so about me, my life, my family, my hopes and dreams and plans for the future. Afterwards she shook my hand and thanked me and I got back into it at work. A little while later she came back with a gift bag full of goodies and the nicest card anyone has ever written me. Things like that just never happen! I was so touched and humbled and a little weirded out taking such gifts. My boss being the way she is went and checked the price of some of the things in the bag from the store and informed me she spent over fifty big ones.

Karma? Not sure, but I'm loving life! Not so much the sweaty heat..

The Worst Blogger Ever

Ugh, I am so bad at blogging! Let me tell you a story about the time I was all over this shit:

Once upon a time I used to have an amazing blog, wordpress I believe, where I would share witty anecdotes and interesting stories from my life. I graduated to livejournal when I forgot my password, and after that I thought I'd jump on the blogger bandwagon (because.. seriously, passwords!). My life was no more interesting than now, but somehow I had all this time and dedication and energy. I was also a twitter aficionado and had an amaaazing follower to following ratio. I had numerous celebrity followers who would totally retweet my stuff. Chyeah, I was just so, so cool.

But then I went back to work full time and it all went poof. For months I have been standing on the side lines getting jeally over the social media networks I follow but don't belong in. It's sort of like high school all over again! But I don't mind, because I resolved to put myself back into this blog once I was staying at home again. Which I will be, in a few months. I can't wait! Barefoot and pregnant, here I come!

*chinks lemonade in a champagne glass*

I can't wait to tell my friends, but it's a bit early yet. Lucky I have you, bloggy.