Tag Archives: busy life

Merry martyr Christmas


martyr2Tonight I put on my Christmas martyr pants, stood on my Christmas martyr soap box and let it rip.

“I am doing EVERYTHING around here to get ready for Christmas and no-one else is doing ANYTHING!!”

“Like what?” came the reply from my rather shell shocked family.

So I listed all the stuff I have been doing or will do in the lead up to 25 December:

My martyr list

  • Buy four presents and cards for friends of my children who selfishly decided to be born in December.
  • Buy 50 chocolates Santas and 50 small Christmas cards for my children’s classmates.
  • Buy a Christmas present for the kids’ tennis coach.
  • Buy Christmas gift bags to carry all the Christmas stuff to school.
  • Make over 60 brownies as presents for teachers, school crossing supervisors, after school care carers, workmates, family and friends.
  • Write 40 Christmas cards to family and friends.
  • Source and buy Christmas presents for my children. Track down the one doll my daughter wants that has sold out everywhere, so I’m forced to buy it online. Then the wrong one is delivered. Then I panic that the correct one won’t arrive on time so I ask my lovely workmates to keep an eye out for it in the stores. Then I really panic and decide to buy another one just in case. Then the store sends me the correct one plus the second one I bought; and my workmate buys me one too. So I now have three  dolls.
  • Book my children in to school holiday program for January that needs to be booked and paid for in December.
  • Buy a Kris Kringle gift.
  • Buy new Christmas lights for the Christmas tree because the cats ate the lights last year.
  • Buy the cats a Christmas present.
  • Get up at sparrow’s fart to line up to have photos of the kids taken with Santa.
  • Book in for a spray tan, manicure, pedicure and hair cut before Christmas.
  • Book kids in for a hair cut before Christmas.
  • Make sure the kids have nice outfits to wear for Christmas Day.

Impressive, isn’t it?














The green eyed monster

To the stay-at-home Mums in my suburb (warning: contains bitterness borne out of jealousy):

I’m jealous.

I’m jealous that you seem to have all the time in the world in the morning to get yourself dressed and your little cherubs ready for school. You don’t know that the house you all walk past with the white car in the driveway contains a woman who is only just stepping in to the shower, after having a miserable morning dealing with tired children, when she should be heading to the school drop off.

I’m jealous that you get to walk your children to school in the morning sunshine, sharing lovely jokes and enjoying some special bonding moments. I see you all as I am driving past, cursing the 40km/h speed zone because I am once again running late to get my children to school and then to get myself to work on time.

I’m jealous that you al seem to have the time to chat to each other once school starts, keeping yourselves up to date with all the latest school events. Meanwhile, I am the one who arrives at school with the only children who are not dressed up in yellow for some fundraising event; causing us all to hop back in the car, race in to the house, get changed and race back to school. Of course, then I have to walk the hall of shame to the School Office to sign my children in, as they are so late and have missed the roll.

jealousI’m jealous because I assume you always have the house running smoothly, and there are always freshly made healthy snacks for the children to eat when they get home and a nutritious dinner on the boil, ready to be served at the sensible time of 5.30pm – leaving plenty of time for some family togetherness. I think of you as I walk in the door at 6.15pm and head straight to the kitchen to whip up a meal that only takes 10 minutes to cook so we can fit in bath time and a book before bed.

I’m also thankful that you answer my panicked texts at 8.15am when I need to know if today is the day the children are heading off to the excursion; or to check if it is Nude Food Day, and therefore whether I need to un-Glad Wrap their lunches.

I’m thankful for your sweet smiles of understanding as I arrive at school in a mad flap because I have dropped one of the many balls I try to keep up in the air.

Please forgive my steely looks as I see you walk past my house in the morning, assuming (wrongly) that you haven’t a care in the world, while I feel like the world is on my shoulders. It’s only because I am jealous…and tired.

The Karate Kid

Don't mess with me, orright? I do Body Combat!
Just like looking in a mirror!

The large bald man stands in front of me. Sweat drips down his face and his eyes are steely.

He holds up one closed fist. “This one’s called Pleasure.” Then he holds up the other one. “This one’s called “Pain.”

And I have to stifle a laugh and a snort.

Today was my fourth Body Combat class and it’s a hoot.  What keeps me coming back is the intensity of the instructor and the absolute seriousness of his manner.

As we are jabbing and punching and kicking, he is yelling out “Grab him! Is he getting away?! Oh no he’s not! Kick him and then smash his nose with your elbow!”

It’s so non-PC and there’s lots of yelling and screaming. And it is so much fun.

At the end of each session I feel like I’ve beaten up all the people that have annoyed me through the week.

And if I avoid watching myself in the mirror, I feel like I’ve spent 55 minutes giving Uma Thurman in ‘Kill Bill’ a run for her money.

But only if i avoid the mirror. If I look in the mirror, I see a 5 foot nothing, slightly chubby woman who is very red-faced, very puffed, and very sweaty.

And after all this punching, yelling, empowerment, sweating, and kicking, I come back home to the kids and they get to enjoy a much calmer Mummy!

Sorry, no time to chat

I’ve had a crazy (but very typical) Sunday.

It went a bit like this:

6.15am: Five-year-old son wakes me up to make him breakfast. I tell him I’ll be two minutes.

Hello, I'm your wife! Hello there. I thought you looked familiar!
Hello, I’m your wife! Hello there. I thought you looked familiar!

6.16am: Say good morning to husband.

6.17am: Fall asleep again.

7am-ish: Five-year-old son wakes me up to make him breakfast. I actually get up and make his breakfast (adding extra Weet Bix so he doesn’t ask for seconds) and also make my seven-year-old daughter’s breakfast.

7:05am: Tell kids Mummy needs a nap and go back to bed.

7.25am: Husband wakes up and gets morning papers.

7.30am: I wake up – again! – have shower and meet up with rest of family. Say good morning to everyone again.

7.31am: Eat a low calorie breakfast and read papers.

8am: Get kids dressed for the day.

8.15am: Work out week’s worth of low calorie meals and write shopping list. I think I’ve had a short conversation with my husband…

8.45am: Play with kids.

9.41am: Leave for the gym to do Body Step class.

11.20am: Arrive home.

12 noon: Husband leaves to do shopping. I play with kids.

2pm: I take son to fly kite. We were all going to go out and do something together as a family, but my daughter twisted her ankle running and had to stay home. Husband stays home with her.

2.45am: Come home.

2.47am: Husband goes  for a swim.

4.30pm: We are all finally at home together! Yay!

It is now 9.50pm and here I am, while my husband has gone to bed. Maybe I need to schedule a meeting so we can actually talk to each other! Instead of conversations, we just seem to say “Hi” and “Bye”.

We’ll probably stay together forever at this rate! No time to chat means no time to disagree.

I think I’ve just stumbled across the secret of a happy marriage!

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-!”




Me x 5

Remember that 1996 movie ‘Multiplicity’ with Michael Keaton?  The one where he clones himself so he can get more things done in his life?

That’s what I think I want to do.

There is so much I want to be and do that I need to live a few different lives so I don’t find myself on my deathbed wondering ‘what if’.

The different clones of me would be:


I love having a career and going to work.  I love the responsibility and the respect I (hopefully) garner and having to use my brain. I love earning my own money, the camaraderie with my team (greatest bunch of women I’ve ever worked with!) and constantly learning about my industry and myself.

I’d love to be a CEO and have great power and to be able to make real decisions.  To be a real trailblazer for women and  stomp around in fabulous corporate suits and even more fabulous shoes; to travel business class; to be asked to present at really important forums; and to reach the very pinnacle of my industry.


50shousewifeSometimes I struggle with working full time.  I want to stay at home full time because I know with all my heart that it would be so good for my family – which would be good for me. I could make sure the house is running smoothly, take my kids to school and pick them up.

I could be involved in their school and go along to excursions.  They could have friends over after school, attend after school activities and have a nicely rounded, calmer life.  Not the mad rush we have every day with two parents working full time.


Truth be told, I’d probably go quietly insane if I was a full time stay at home Mum, so the perfect balance of part-time would be nice.  Working three days would be ideal. I would still keep my toe in the career water so I wouldn’t feel my two degrees were a waste of time , but then I’d also have two days at home to redress the balance. Lovely!


Ah, to be able to work from home and write, write, write. I could work from a cafe, on the kitchen table, in the park – wherever. And going by the image on the right, all freelance writers work on their stomachs in the grass by the beach, right? That beats working in an office full time any day!


I love learning new things.  If I could, I would study the following just for fun – nothing to do with improving career choices:

  • photography
  •  cooking (all cuisines)
  • fine art
  • English literature
  • sewing ( I would love to know how to make my own clothes)
  • Italian/Spanish/French/Greek
  • creative writing
  • remedial massage

I know all of the above contradict each other, and a lot of the scenarios are based on fuzzy, unrealistic stereotypes (and a major Tattslotto win!).

Maybe it’s true that modern women can have it all, just not at the same time.

How bloody frustrating is that?!