The horrid children who stole Halloween

Halloween has traditionally been one of my favourite times of year, and yesterday I ignored it. This time last year stinky horrible little kidlets pissed on any future chances of choc crackles and sucked the joy clear out of giving.

This is my gate, that white stuff actually is sticky ultra bonder, it takes days to dry . Oh I am not so heartless to have done this purely to stop grubby unthankful no outfit wearing horrors from coming to my door. It needed to be done........at some stage. Besides if I had choccie in the house it would be for me, I have not had choccie since Saturday. CH's packet of squiggle tops is feeling very nervous.

I am contemplating joining a gym again, am I just pulling myself yet again. I have had four year long gym memerships in my life. My annual record for going was nine times, in one year.

A day is done

If only I knew how to rotate photographs on my blog. Oh well, as our friends at Mainland say 'good things take time'

Anyway I am once again reflecting as I have decided as much as I love this digital age, I really miss the photo albums and shoe boxes full of negatives. I am so paranoid when it comes to my photos, I have them on my laptop, on disks, back up disks, disks to back up the back ups and still I fret over deleting these memories off a memory card 'Just in case'

My anxiety must end so I am slowly deleting photos from our OE two years ago to make way for photos of our budda bubba growing. I have decided every now and then I will throw a few favourites on my blog....................oh dear I am doing it again, trying to back up my back up, back up's!

However this photo was taken in Cambodia at Tuol Sleng a former Khmer Rouge S-21 prison located just outside of Phonm Penh. I have lots to say on my experiences in Cambodia but like to keep them all for me.

The one thing I will say is, in every cell there was a small bit of blackboard with rules and regulations to be adhered to.

Regulation 2 stated,

Do not try to hide the facts by making pretexts of this and that. You are stictly prohibited to contest me.

I doubt anyone would have contested long in that cell.

Rhubarb and Banana Jam

Listening to Post, Bjork (reliving my youth)

Wearing a JPG parfume, limited edition inspired my my favourite artist, Frida Kahlo, feeling faboulous as I have decided I may not have beautiful office attire any longer but what is the point of saving perfume for best when I can enjoy it every day!

Today is not just a good day it is a grand day! Sun is shining, I am wearing boob tube and a summer skirt. There is a pot of jam bubbling on the stove made from my own rhubarb, I have just finished dancing around to 'Oh so quiet' Bjork with Ella bouncing on my hip, and before you ask OF COURSE she liked it! I dread her having her dads taste in music.

Yesterday I lay in the sun for all of ten minutes and it was glorious, I have not felt that relaxed without a ciggarette. It occured to me why do I not do that more often, rather than rushing around doing loads of domestic chores. I guess it is the guilt of being at home. I know I am busy and dont slack around(often) but I always feel I have to explain myself for every moment of stolen fun. No one else is putting this pressure on me exept myself, perhaps I just need to learn to be kinder. Feck it, bullox to it all, it's my party and I will dance if I want to!

I just stirred my jam and on reflection a boob tube is not the correct jam making attire, esp around bubbling sugar, please send 1950's apron STAT.

Well tomorrow I hope I feel the same as today, for it is yet another holiday.

Chick Chat Tuesday

Given I was not really looking forward to having my mother and father in law here for the weekend, imagine my surprise to find myself nearly in tears when they left. Silly huh.

It was a wonderful weekend but I think the bit that really got me was how much they loved our wee girl and how much she seemed to love them. Not having had anything like this before, it was amazing for me, Ella is my first blood relative that I know and it is plain to see some of her grandparents characteristics. It makes me feel closer to them. We got nothing but praise about the nature of our little girl, but of course that would happen as unless you spawned the devil. It now seems selfish on our behalf to live so far from family who can give her just as much love as we can. Also I must admit to wishing sometimes we did have family here so we could give Ella a break from us as I am sure that I bore her during the day.

Do not worry I have not totally gone soft in the head as although as much as I am embracing this new family stuff, I still am mindful of how much they have got on my tits in the past.

Now back to chick chat Tuesday, I went to the movies with a girlfriend to see 'In her shoes' Chick flick personified. As Ella put the horror in horrible I did not really get to see much of it, but from what I saw there would be no reason to see it again. Toni Collette playing Hollywood's fat ugly duckling in all of a size 12 perhaps a 14 with padding. Unbelievable.

Today I once more shoe horn myself into a bathing suit as it is swimming day, must remeber to take care of side burns. Last week Ella went swimming under the water for the first time. Natural my arse. She rose out of the water mouth open, gallons of pool falling from it, eyes as big as saucers, her face was beet in colour, tears, choking and snot flowing from her nose. What a pretty picture and today we do it all again.

The Goat

Edward Albee’s
The Goat, or
Who Is Sylvia?

Directed by Cathy Downes
Black Comedy US 2002

With Bruce Phillips, Jennifer Ludlam, George Henare and introducing Matt Rein

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I cannot believe it I have just spent the last hour on recounting my long weekend of events. It was some of the most interesting, well written, Pulitzer prize winning stuff you will ever read, did I mention funny, well it was pee your pants funny.

OK no, it may have not been anything similar to the above, but yes I did spend much time on my blog and somehow fecked it all up prior to publishing. Lost the lot. Not best pleased at this moment in time as the house is a mess, CH is due home, my sugar level is low, my child is stirring and by now I should have been basking in my own glory.

I feel like I should just list the events of the weekend as honestly all witty recanting is off the menu. You may like to turn eyelids inside out for this one or at the very least read another blog as this one will be just plain boring.

As I mentioned earlier this weekend was to be spent with family, yes my friday night was destined to be one full of continuous repetitive stories, stale ciggarette smoke and rugby league. There is only so many nods and giggles in the right places you can give when your eyes and glazed and your will to live is on the wane. But to my rescue came a girlfirend firmly clutching tickets to the theatre. A play I had actually wanted to see. So it was a big Tarrah to family, baby and responsibilty. Oh such reckless behaviour, I even cast aside my spinakker of a maternity bra in favour of a normal one!

The play was called GOAT, I had been looking forward to seeing this for some time. It was unusual to say the least, I am not sure if it was the topics discussed or accents painfully coming and going that made me uncomfortable but I was strangely quiet afterwards. This harrowed feeling was felt by all but did not prompt discussion, but rather left to your own quite contemplation. Odd. The play delt with issues including beastiality, homosexuality,treachery infidelity, incest, pedophilia, with much smashing of pottery and ripping of canvas.

I think that was the problem, you can joke about all the above being just like a normal family but I think there is a element of truth and more people in that theatre could relate to the topics than they would like to admit. I am glad I went as some of it appealed to my deviant sense of humour but in all honesty I would not go back for a encore.

Oh how I love the whole Theatre experience, we were right in the front row, the set was very intimate and well thought out. Afterward the late night coffee, a slice of Banoffi pie and a non stop talking of cabbages and kings.

A little bit of feel good, that is not chocolate

In April, Oprah interviewed Maya Angelou on her 70+ birthday. Oprah asked her what she thought of growing older. And, there on television, she said it was "exciting."

Regarding body changes, she said there were many, occurring every day...like her breasts. They seem to be in a race to see which will reach her waist, first. The audience laughed so hard they cried.

She is such a simple and honest woman, with so much wisdom in her words! Maya Angelou said this: "I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.

I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights." "I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life. "I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as "making a life." "I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

"I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back." "I've learned that when ever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision." "I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one." "I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back." "I've learned that I still have a lot to learn." "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

A new week

What a week it is turning out to be. Monday morning a courier arrived with a package with my name on it, How exciting! Inside was not only a handwrittten letter but a fabulous handbag! The freaky part is I had drooled over this same handbag a month ago, to my surprise my lovely friend cola pops sent me the same one, reason, there was not one and it made my day and possibly my week.

Yesterday was great, spent the morning with a dear friend and her lovely little girl, Milly Molly Morgan who has the most hearty giggle. It is amazing you could not get two more different babies, this alone reeks of trouble. They are going to be dynamite together, picking up each others qualities and being truly inventive with their naughtyness.

I also discovered a new part of town that I have never been too. Parklands, what a great place. Fantastic new library with new books so I hired some great picture books and Brainy baby DVDs for Ella. Plus they had a vast selection of CD's to hire so I hired five. I have been tempted for quite sometime with the lure of new music. But of course no funds to fritter away. So here at least I can try on some new sounds and see how they fit, I am going through somewhat of a musical change, my tastes are evolving. I am leaning towards quite raw unproduced sounds, some even verging on folk and bluegrass (even admitting to that almost embaresses me) never before have I even lingered in this country section. Could be just a phase.

Even more exciting my potatoes have finally poked through the soil and my mesculan salad is ready to pick. The taste of summer. I have been working on a gift for my sister in law, a creative wee pack tailormade for her impending labour, of course not all done in the best taste, but bloody funny. Hopefully finish that today and perhaps even have a crack at putting together a powerpoint letter.

CH's parents are here for the weekend...................in fact a loooooong weekend..........................four days...................................enough said.

Whoops

Here I am firmly entrenched in the lowest of the low, pre period blues. I should have known not to run with any brilliant ideas I had this morning. Sun streaming on my bowl of sultana bran and glass of kiwifruit juice. Bloody diet, bullocky fibre.

Oh how I wish for a cigarette, good coffee and a really big chocolate danish with a side of bacon.

As fate would have it, the golden sunlight that I was painfully eating my horses breakfast in was illuminating my unkept hair. Shock horror, hundred of spilt ends. It was unfortunate my craft scissors were also on the table. It was like a packet of peanuts, once you start you cannot stop.

It was not long before I had a big pile of hair on the table. Whoops

Oh well it looks like I may have to visit a hair salon, now what can I blame the hacked locks on. Prodigy baby learns how to cut hair while mother sleeps? Ummn Drunk mother gets all hair cut off in drinking stint? Hair caught under fallen building while saving a kitten? How about I just ignore it all. Working well.

Little one starts swimming classes tommorrow. What a week to shoe horn myself into a swim suit. I think I will save that little treat for later. In fact I may put the photos online to share the joy. Don't panic I am not heartless.

Hopefully the weather stays good as I have loads to do in the garden. Second lot of Basil, just died, corriander not far behind it. I am unsure if it is cold weather or just another thing to make my day. Broad beans, cauli, broc, cabbage, onions, carrots, lettuce, mesculin, cherry toms, chilli all going well. Corn AWOL, thyme the blasted dog nailed it, now proves she is a waste of time. Raspberry, strawberry, gooseberry,blueberry all flowering. YAHOO. Rubarb gagging to be made into a crumble. Yum Yum pigs bum. Right must dash as the little one will soon be awake and furiously filling nappies.

Monthly Cycle, My arse!

I have finally cracked it, I am not on a monthly cycle. I have obviously evolved into a five weeker. Now I am not talking about being Mrs Surfboard rider pants. It Goes a little like this.

Week 1 & 2 - I am on fire, Super Mum, baker extrodinaire, gourmet chef, garden guru, diary jam packed with lots of things to do, completely relaxed, many craft projects underway(even though they wont get touched again for another four weeks!)

Week 3 - Laziness personafied, move or dont turn up to things in diary, eat much crappy food and have really inventive ideas about why I should get out of exercising.

Week 4 - My signifigant other, generally makes my skin crawl. He cannot have an idea, do a job or make a comment without me having to have input, direction and generally trying to ground down any self respect and cockiness built up over the last four weeks.

Week five - I am the most unattractive wilderbeast to have ever stomped on the planet. I have no clothes, no money, I am fat and the worst mummy in the world and possibly even smell. I am amazed CH is not shagging around with a check out chick called Beverly.

Currently I am on the cusp of week five. On reflection it was not a good time to go shopping with CH. Not just any shopping, clothes shopping......even worse......clothes shopping for me. fade in dramatic music..wilder beast in pink tutu enters stage left.

While I dragged CH from discount shop to even more discount shop, we stumbled upon a discount jewellery shop. Now if this had been week one two or even three, things would have been fine, but...... CH turns to me and says 'Oh I suppose it is time I bought you a ring for having Ella' Hmmnnnnnn, my head nearly turned a 360 and I had to restain myself to respond accordingly to the greeting the bleach blonde behind the counter gave me. It was not just the fact that all product was crappy, distasteful and cheap(normally my favourite). It was the realisiation that YES the prat was well aware of the tradition of giving a gift to the mother of your child in thanks and praise, but choosen to ignore. All thought, sentiment gone and truly sucked the joy clear out of giving.

I am under no delusion of our finacial status, so I am not expecting a huge big expense. But feck it I am expecting. In a dream environment the gift would be bought with money saved and sacraficed from his beer money, in a home made, handcrafted box filled with thoughtful items, a bound book of poems written just for me, an equisite item of Jewellery he had hunted through streets of antique shops and waited eight years to give me when the moment was just right, a box of my favourite chocolates from Brussels, a cherished childhood book of mine restored to former glory.......I am reminded of a Tui ad. YEAH RIGHT.

Thankfully, with poise and dignity I pretended to see a sale rack I was extremly interested in, dragging him away. I fear it is not the last I will see of that discounting dick jewellery warehouse. Even if the gift does come from there it will not matter as I will know that time and thought went into driving out of his way and out of his comfort zone and make things so much better. Besides parking at that place is almost as painful as birth.

Today was freezing, I was bored and Ella was in trouble. It is going to be some 21st!

Resistance is futile

With the onslaught of pets, mortgage and children it is irrefutable that you will one day need to be an adult. On any given day, contemplating my life past lunchtime would seem tiresome at best and today CH and I had to decide what may happen fifty years in the future.

Yes, we updated our wills. This turned out to be a rather long and tedious process. It is no longer a matter of bequesting all our wordly possesions to our daughter, we had to almost write down every eventuality. Now we have based our daughters upbringing on a bunch of what if's.

We had succesfully dodged having that all important converstation of what happens to Ella should we both die. Until now.

In that stark insiped Lawyers office we discussed and made descision we had not even talked about together. I of course had firm thoughts on whom I felt would bring up our child closest to the way we would.

The longer I think about this the more I realise how little your environment has to play in the deep inner core of whom you are. Sure the packaging changes and is fine tuned by those you meet on your journey but essentially the foundations are long established. I am more than happy with who I am on the inside and have been through much to get here. Ella will never go through what I faced during childhood, for that I am truly thankful.

But, oh yes there is always a but.........I am who I am now because of all I have been through and the desicions I have made. Take away these experiences and do we take away depth and soul from our children? A grand old lady once told me 'The more you prune a fruit tree, the sweeter fruit it bears' I have long hoped that she was right.

Diet Update

Diet going quite well, since we did have a friend over for dinner last night I felt it would be rude not to make a sticky choccie pudding and smother it in lashings of cream.

However, I have dropped two Kgs and six more to go until I reach my goal. When I think about it I have come quite some way. Before I gave birth I made it to 99kgs and have now made it to 78kgs with a goal of 72kgs. This is 2kgs heavier than pre baby but I feel it is more realistic. You would think I would be feeling better about my appearence, but in all honesty the more weight I am losing the fatter I feel! What sort of buggery mind fuck is that! Excuse my pottie mouth but PLEASE heavens above!!! It is pissing me off. This week I would like to start the next phase, dieting...check, excersise...no. I did think that doing loads around the home would suffice, we actually truth be told, No. I thought I would have to go for walks and was using the old gardening and chores as an excuse to make me feel better. Aha caught myself in a little skullduggery self delusion there! Never mind with the event of daylight savings I have planted all of my vegie garden so I will soon have much to harvest and keep me busy. Righto angel awaits.

This morning has been all about reflection and I am reminded of a poem snatched from my Catholic School upbringing that went something like 'I took a piece of living clay and gently moulded it day by day, showered it with love and art until it became a child's soft and yeilding heart, I came again when time had gone, it was a man I looked upon...........' This may not be the exact wording as I read this long before I reached double figures, I guess the reasons behind my thoughts is due to the huge resposibility of shaping our children.

We teach them almost every thing, currently I have just taught Ella that a game of Peek-a-boo is funny and not from the lip dropping depths of horror.

I can see I will end up being one of those mothers rolling my eyes in disgust when my angel in pink is giggling over loud smelly farts at inappropriate moments. CH has much to do with this as our little darling already lets off loud rippers that flatulent old men would envy. I of course ignore all body functions while Jason is doubled over, crying with laughter and trying hard not to wet himself. That is fine............ should we ever have a boy he just may like Ballet. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it down the clubrooms CH!