Monthly Archives: September 2013

All I Ask Is For All I Ask

Enjoy! I wish I had written this…

All I Ask Is For All I Ask.


I humbly accept this award

ImageI wrote my little blog anonymously for a year. It was fun, but pretty soon, I craved some engagement with the blogging world and a few months ago I ‘came out’. It has been terrific! I love being part of the blogging community and the amazing support we all give each other. It makes me go all warm and fuzzy!

So I wanted to thank More Issues Than Time Magazine for nominating me for the I Am Part of the WordPress Family Award.

It’s a fun and fabulous blog so you must check it out. And of course anyone who follows my blog is naturally my very bestest friend!

One of the criterias of accepting the award is to nominate 10 others you see as having an impact on your WordPress experience and family.

My Top 10 blogs are below. They make me laugh and nod in agreement all at once:

She’s A Maineiac

What Party?


Girl On The Contrary

The Byronic Man

The Good Greatsby

Martha Hudsuckle


Kate Says Stuff

Be A Fun Mum

Check ’em out and let them know I sent you!

What? Me scary?!

I’ve been thinking a bit about perception v reality lately.

Pray you don’t catch me on a bad day!

Recently at work I’ve had people tell me that I am scary! It threw me at first.  I really never thought of myself as being intimidating enough to provoke fear into grown men!

Me? Scary? Surely not. I’m a pussy cat.

But when I think about it, I think I can be scary at times even though I would like to think of myself as someone who is approachable and nice.

My scariness comes from my low b***shit tolerance.

Since becoming a Mum, I’ve noticed that I have no patience for time wasters and people that generally make my life trickier than it needs to be. So I may be a bit forceful and direct.  Sorry.

Believe me, underneath that so-called scary person is someone who wants to do her very best at work and to produce good outcomes for everyone.

So, if I am a bit direct and sound as though I am picking away at your ideas, it may be because I know I have to race out of the office in five minutes to pick up my little boy from day care and I don’t want to be late because I’ve missed him all day and can’t wait to get home and be with the rest of my family. Working Mum guilt – same old story.

Or, more than likely, I am struggling with an enormous workload; operating under my normal haze of exhaustion, and your incompetence is simply making my job harder than ever!

See? Not so scary after all, right?

We survived the Show!

We did it! We took our 5 and 7-year-old to The Royal Melbourne Show – and we survived!

And it took planning that would impress any logistics manager, or those people in the army that build towns from scratch!

First, the food.

Deciding on lunch was easy enough, but it was the snacks that took the most planning. A balance between healthy and not-so-healthy, for all kinds of scenarios: the long travel time distraction treat; the ‘I’m tired and hot from walking around all day” meltdown; and the “I’m b-o-r-e-d, Mum” whining. I had thought of it all!

This is soo embaressing, Mum!

And then there was the charging of all electronic gadgets to ensure smooth sailing: the iPod to distract the grumpy and fidgety 5-year-old son on the long train journey; and the iPhone in case of urgent phone calls to my husband if we all became separated and needed to work out a meeting place. And of course, the camera was fully charged to capture every fun moment, or at least a good pic for my blog!

We got to the station a bit after 8.30am. True to form, we crossed paths with a public transport nutter.

These encounters always start off simple enough. A polite word or nod of acknowledgement. But then comes that sinking feeling after a few strange remarks that you’ve walked into a trap and will be stuck chatting to this person for the duration of your trip!

Yep, we had one of those. He was nice enough, but when the inane conversation topics weren’t drying up, I had to make an excuse to move seats.  We thought we were safe, but no, this person walked over to us and continued the conversation! Hooray for Flinders Street Station for providing our escape!

The strategy to get through the day was to leave the showbags until last, so we could use them as a threat: “If you don’t behave, you will not be getting a showbag!” It worked a treat.

Classic Show fun

Our 7-year-old daughter threw herself into everything. She milked a cow, dug up some veggies and fed the animals in the nursery. Our 5-year-old son did not. He had other things in mind – showbags, putting ping pong balls in a clown’s mouth – and food! But he was won over by the woodchopping. “Mum, they have REAL axes!” he exclaimed in delight. Blood thirsty little thing!

The slow shuffle through the showbag pavillion was hard work. The air was stuffy, prams kept bumping into the back of my heels, and I kept getting stuck behind that one person who seemed so mesmerised by the ‘quality’ produce, they had to stop in the middle of the crowd to ooh and ahh. Grr…

Ah, it was a great (expensive) and exhausting day – and when we got home, I had to have a nap!

Baby, how you’ve changed!

What is your idea of bliss? 

Mine is very simple. Time to myself!

I’m enjoying a moment of bliss right now!  

My husband is in the lounge room watching the footy; the kids are in bed; and I am tucked up warm and cozy in bed, watching TV and tapping away on my laptop.  It’s the rock and roll lifestyle I’ve always aspired to! Ha Ha.

And it’s not like I hate spending time with my family.  Far from it.

This is where I am in my mind

But I rarely get any down time these days and it’s been a rough week. Actually it’s been a rough couple of weeks. We’ve had sick kids, yukky weather, heavy workloads, and just general blahness (is that a word?!)

So a chance to just ‘be’ is exactly what the doctor ordered.

My 20-something-year-old self would roll her eyes at me enjoying something so boring and domestic! 

Which makes me think of how different my life is now compared to when I was younger.

I am sure my kids would never be able to grasp the concept that their Mum had a life before they came along. I know I couldn’t when I was a kid!

Sometimes I forget how it used to be. And then I’ll go in to the city, or to one of my former haunts, and it all comes rushing back and I feel like yelling out:

“Hey, I  used to hang out here!”

“I used to go to an obscure little bar there!”

“I used to watch my favourite band there!” 

“I remember going to a wild party there!” 

It’s funny how sometimes it feels like only yesterday that I was traipsing about the inner city with my friends.  And then at other times it really feels like all that happened to someone else! 

How did I go out and dance and drink until 4am and then go to work at 9am? These days I can’t even have two glasses of wine before wanting to curl up and go to sleep!

How did I manage to flirt up a storm and throw myself into new romances so often? These days I struggle to have enough energy to sustain a conversation with my husband at the end of the day!

One day I will regale my kids with stories of my fun-filled youth (and I know they will have zero interest in them) but for now I will enjoy these little moments of peace and quiet – until the inevitable “M-u-u-u-m-m-!”