Dog-ter shopping

Other people go Doctor Shopping to keep up their addictions to prescription pills.

I however invented Dog-ter shopping.




This is fluffy mutt. This is also living proof that I am a horrible mutt-mummy.

See when the fluffster arrived in our lives we were told she might need clipping 3 times a year. Handleable. Even more handleable because this breed doesn't drop hair everywhere, and you all know how much I hate dog hair. In any case this was a big fat lie because she needs clipping waaaay more than that.

I used to take her to the salon regularly, then I got very busy with 2 more babies and a home business so I got a home dog wash to come visit every 2-3 months and that was terrific.
Then the dog lady stopped coming. Just like that. Fluffy mutt got hairier and hairier then she would get so bad I would have to take her to a salon looking terribly embarrassed by the state of her. *Please remember I had 2 sleepless children and was losing my mind at this stage.

Occasionally I would take to her with the kitchen scissors and didn't do a great job but it just had to do.

Then it would all start again I would have to find a new dog salon because I couldn't stand the reproachful looks of the groomer when we both slunk into the shop.




Fluffy Mutt should have learnt by now to stay out of the kitchen when Teen Queen is dying her hair...

Then I ran out of money completely, ironically having plenty of time to take her to a salon.....but I can't drive to the other side of town in search of someone that won't give me THE LOOK.

So it's been kitchen scissors aplenty around here, sometimes I find it quite cathartic cutting off the dreadlocks whilst she snores.

In any case, Scorpios mum 'borrowed' Fluffy Mutt for a few days to keep her remaining dog company for awhile as he is missing Tyson (as are we all *sob). She returned her today - all groomed as a thank you.


Here she is all shiny and new!




And I know your first impression will be awwww, isn't she lovely? Your second thought will be "how can you let her get so hairy"?

I know, I know - I'm crap...

My next husband should be a dog groomer.

Feedback please!

I got heaps of yummy reports back on my pull apart bread thingos from back THIS POST




and I'd like to know what fillings you used if you don't mind. What combination did you come up with? My faves are always the ones using left over bits of stuff and it's amazing what you can come up with. So leave a comment and let me know!

Today I messed with it a little and used Wholemeal SR flour with great success. I try to use wholemeal rather than super refined stuff and I like to hide vegies in everything possible a la Mrs Seinfeld, so I added a big spoonful of pureed sweet potato to a few spoonfuls of pasta sauce kicking around in the fridge. Then sprinkled grated tasty cheese and blobs of cream cheese all over the dough in case it got a bit dry.

I steam or roast all different vegies, puree and freeze in ziplock bags or ice-cube trays (just like when the kids were liddle bubbies) and stick the stuff in everything.

My aim is to get a vegetable in every, single thing I make for them in the snack department. Both little ones can go through picky, picky, picky stages - Betty Boo can go without anything decent for DAYS on end so this makes me feel slightly better.

So come on, give me your inventions and variations!

And I might even send a teeny prize to the one I like the best tee hee...but you have to be a follower!!!!

The first school term for Cyclone

Well it had its downs...

Called to the school twice to pick him up early due to belting 2 other kids. One drew blood *sigh.
Being called every name under the sun if I came to pick him up - when he wasn't ready.
Realising he is taking up ALOT of the (gorgeous) teachers time each day.

and it's ups

Cyclone will be going full time hours next term, after a nice slow build up and a rewards system.
He is participating in a few more activities without meltdown.
Seeing that the other kids consider the meltdowns and screaming as merely "a Cyclone thing". Most don't bat an eyelid at his antics, a few of the older children seem to take pride in being able to settle him through an episode.

Cyclone resents changing activities, he wants to be left alone to build all day. He needs to be cajoled and soothed through any change through the day. Whilst he is making progress it's time to see if we have more than Sensory issues going on. As brilliant and engaged as his teacher is I can see he may need more help than she can give during the day.

We have finally seen a Pediatrician that I adore and is a leader in the field of Spectrum Disorders. We are looking at possible Aspergers Diagnosis- which has always been a possibility, it's just he doesn't meet about 50% of the criteria but the rest to a tee.

And there's the rub.

YES he can communicate - he never shuts up. YES he can hold a conversation. YES he can play with other children happily (under certain circumstances).
NO he isn't totally obsessive about things. NO he doesn't line up pencils in a straight line. NO he wasn't programming computers at the age of 2. And he can't count cards.

Small grumble here - YES Spectrum Disorders seem to be the new black....that's because there are rising numbers of them. NO you are not an expert because your 2nd cousin is autistic and he doesn't act like that. YES he seems fine when you see us at the shops (because I have primed him for 2 hours before we leave the house), YES he had fun at your kids birthday party and had perfect manners (and you didn't see the 3 hour manic meltdown and screaming when he got home overloaded out of his brain) - because when you say those things to me...or infer there isn't enough discipline, or that I don't handle him as well as I could YOU PISS ME OFF ROYALLY.

No one knows my son as well as I do, I am not stupid and have read volumes on the subject of the Spectrum (and if you knew me well enough you would have noticed that my spazzy quirks give an indication of where Cyclone got it from). This isn't going to end in the near future so if you don't mind please just leave it up to me, I'm happier chatting to those on my online community that know what it's like first hand and pass me a virtual joint when I need it....



So THERE

More Bitchin

Oh NOTHING gets me going more than the weekend papers. I have no idea why I picked up the Sunday Herald Sun today but I did and now I need to bleach my eyeballs.

How's this "Changers reveal rebels within" 2 page spread with subtitles such as "Open to a new path", Throwing in the Rat Race" and "Spiritual search for a simpler life".
Banging on about how people are (all of a sudden???) looking for a more spiritual path because their lives are lacking. Really?

Three stories of highly educated (probably educated for FREE mind you) people coming from privileged backgrounds who grew up in the most salubrious suburbs - who have thrown in their long and lucrative careers in Medicine, Law and IT in search of a "more meaningful and ethical life".

And what did they do?

The Doctor read Eat, Pray, Love - got a divorce, chucked in her career in medicine (in her 50's), went on a "pilgrimage" and now studies alternative therapies and dyed her hair pink for some credibility. That's a midlife crises bought on by a book endorsed by Oprah for fucks sake.

The Lawyer gave up his Mercedes to go live in an Ashram and share a bathroom with 4 people, does yoga and chants alot. Can't roll my eyes enough here - plenty of people share a bathroom with 4 other FAMILIES.

The IT Dude just scrapes through. Just. After a very successful athletics career he made a motza in internet marketing. Then his wife died, so he took his bundles of cash and now arranges fundraising events for charity. On second thought, he doesn't scrape through because he clearly doesn't have to work anymore and is a glorified party planner.

So according to this article in order to make some sort of ethical change in your life you are required stick your head up your arse and/or navel gaze until you are cross eyed in an effort to work out what makes YOU happy.

NOT contribute to the world or your community, NOT share any of your privilege and education to change the lives of those far less fortunate.

And what a difference they could make, with such little effort.

Pack of self-indulgent fuckwits.

Over and out.

Taking care of yourself.

So, I'm a pretty busy person -but aren't we all?

We often leave ourselves last on the 'taking care of' lists and this is a HUGE mistake. I put myself first where I can - cos if the mumma ain't happy, ain't NO ONE happy. If I'm feeling tired and ratty everyone suffers, but me foremost because then I feel guilty about being tired and ratty.

This is what I do to take care of me and it works every time. I can't afford the time or the money to get to a salon so I pamper myself.

Instructions - to give you NO excuse not to do this in the next week

Run a deep bath and put smelly girly stuff in. Take the weekend magazines in with you because it doesn't matter if they get wet.
Soak for awhile and read.
Apply face mask.
Apply hair conditioning treatment.
Soak longer whilst it works the magic.
Apply body scrub and scrub down all the bits you can reach.
Rinse everything off.
Into the shower for a final rinse

AHHHHH

OR if you are a dedicated bath freak do it like this.

Apply face and hair treatments.
Run bath.
Clip your toenails in front of the telly whilst no one is watching.
Run shower, rinse everything off.
Do body scrub and rinse.
THEN hop into a luxurious bath and soak away.

Let your hair dry naturally - give it a rest from the dryer.

Hop into nice, fresh sheets and dream a good dream. This is guaranteed after a good pamper session. You will feel every inch of you is shiny and new.

I'll stick up some recipes for easy scrubs and treatments later on. In fact I'm going to keep this going as it is a subject close to my heart.

Taking care of YOU.

xoxo

Bloggers Block!!

Oh dear, it's been terrible.

I've not been away because I'm getting over the dog, I've just run our of words.

Actually, that not right. They are backing up in piles in my head but I haven't been able to get them together properly. Usually it just flows like verbal diarrhea...

The only time I can't write is when I'm under attack emotionally so it's been a rough few weeks....I need a little but more time to turn all this into something funny and READABLE - cos I don't do angst. We all have enough troubles in our own lives without having to read someone elses problems ha ha ha. I hate angsty blogs.

Anyhoo I can feel the blocks falling away so please excuse the rather uncharacteristic posts whilst I get back on the horse...or donkey - whatever.

Memories

Best Buds

He was a lover not a fighter, but he could hold his own. It was almost like he was a ‘bouncer’, because other dogs (not properly controlled by their idiot owners) seemed to just go for him. German Shepherd, Rottweiler, Staffies bred to fight – they took him on and he won each time. His poor scarred old head used to scare kids in the park, his big ole smile showing all his teeth and happiness to see another potential friend to play with used to be misinterpreted. Mothers clutched children to their breasts, teenagers climbed trees and postmen used to run the other way. Not in the early years, but later on when he turned silver and started huffing and panting and getting all rusty.

He didn’t need to be walked on a lead, but we attached one anyway , just so people didn’t feel threatened. He made so many little friends. If a child was frightened at the park, he would sit down, huffing and puffing and smiling. We would reassure the mum or dad that he won’t hurt anyone and in a few minutes of showing a child how to approach a dog, there would be a kid happy to have a new friend in Tysie Boy. He wasn’t a large dog but Staffies have a bad rep.

I can’t work out if this is silly or not but one of the reasons I didn’t have a homebirth was because it would have been too distressing for him! Maybe if he had been a girl dog that had been through a birth her own – but I could just see myself tripping over him whilst I paced the hallway and howling outside the door in fear during the crucial moments….or jumping in the birth pool with me for a splash and a roll. No, that was the right decision in retrospect!


Last year we pensioned him off to live in the country with Scorpios mum. Scorp was there most of the time anyway and it was getting too much for the old fella to have Cyclone jumping on his head.
That’s not to say he didn’t adore the kids to the moon and back. They both pulled themselves up to standing via Tyson. They watched telly on the floor using him as a pillow, included him in every game and piled pillows and blankets all over him, much to his delight……and theirs until he farted with joy.
The funniest incident must have been the day we found Cyclone and Ty in the kitchen. Ty clearly was in two minds about obeying his littlest master because he was being forced to lie down against the cupboards so Cyclone could stand on his back to reach the breadknife on the bench.


Oh I could go on for hours. We could have made millions on Funniest Home Videos if we kept the camera on him for a few hours a day.
In any case…we knew the end was nigh. Tyse was in pain, his heart was failing but it couldn’t seem to let go. There were days he was fine, but nights he was suffering terribly. He was 16 and most Staffies just don’t last that long. His shiny brindle coat was frosty with age.

Last weekend the kids went to Scorpios. They took Tyson down to the river as usual and he was like a puppy again, dragging enormous tree branches up to the bank, diving under to retrieve rocks and playing tug-o-war until they all fell over in hysterics.
It took a very long time to walk home, he nearly had to be carried. When they got back they put him on his bed, snuggled him in his blankets and everybody kissed and cuddled him.


After a Perfect Day, finally that almighty heart gave in and it was the end of an era.

Goodbye Old Friend

Our Jackaran Bounty Boy – otherwise known as Tyson.



Also known as Little Man, Tysie Boy and You Rotten Old Stinker. He died yesterday aged 16 years and 3 days.

16 years of undivided loyalty and companionship, 16 years of memories. He was an awesome legendary dog and loved by all he encountered. It might be hard to tell but Ty was a brindle purebred English Staffordshire Terrier.

I remember when Scorpio brought him home – I was always greeted at the gate by a bundle of energy in the form of a concrete block on legs, the staffy smile wide on his face and a demand for attention that could not be ignored.
Scorpio took him everywhere, to work, to the shops - those two were never apart and they adored each other.

Tyson was a part of our family and he never let us forget it. During conversations he would join in – talking back to us in his funny growly bark. If we had friends over and he wasn’t paid enough attention he would bark sharply until he was included in the fun. At night watching telly or when I was working at my desk Tysie would be at my feet, leaning on my legs just to be close. He also liked to be under things….curtains, throw rugs, tablecloths. He would wind himself around in blankets until he looked like a Babushka and have a nap.


Scorpio always let Tyson sleep on the bed with him, but I have never agreed with dogs on the furniture so things changed when Scorpio moved in with me. Poor Tysie used to stand at the bedroom door giving me the most reproachful looks. No one does reproachful like Tyson did. It melted my heart….but not much because sleeping with a concrete block on your legs is NOT fun. It didn’t stop him though, even though he was about 10 years old and even though I have a huge big old bed a few feet off the floor Tyson could still manage to jump up and snuggle in without me noticing he was there till morning. Ninja Staffy.

Tyse became my boy. When I was pregnant he was my shadow, when I brought Cyclone home from the hospital he sniffed him and looked at me as if to say “I will always look after my brother”…and he did.




I will never forget having an argument with Scorpio, we were yelling at each other in the kitchen and Tyson joined in. Scorpio stopped suddenly and left the room. Later he said he took one look at Tyson by MY side, yelling back at him and his heart nearly broke because he felt like he lost his dog to me.


To Be Continued....

Thanks Kelly........

Kellyansapansa - thank you for your help, and not using a condescending tone when pointing out the SIMPLE way to fix the blog reaction issue. Mwah.
I really thought I'd looked everywhere...usual epic fail on my behalf *giggle.

Oh and aren't you all a bunch of smart-arses! You know who you are and yes I did notice how many of you all of a sudden started ticking all the boxes.

That aren't there anymore yay!

*Snort

Apologies!!

I can't get the stupid effing things off the bottom of my posts.

Ya know the ones that plead for feedback.
Am I funny?
Do you find me interesting?
Am I informative (for fucks sake)?

I mucked around with the widgety things when I first started this blog and it never worked. Then I try to change templates - which is completely unsuccessful but somehow I managed to get that shit working instead of what I wanted to fix.

Story of my life ba hahaha!

Anyway - please ignore it until I have time to get around to Miss Neurotic's house so she can hold my hand whilst she shows me what button to press to make it GO AWAY.

She hasn't missed me at all. I know....

Urban Bloodsport

A Sunday Afternoon a-bouncin'



Woo! Cyclone is really getting some air!

Just wait a few minutes....no, seconds before it degenerates into




URBAN CAGEFIGHTING for the under 6's.



Happens EVERY TIME.

Bitchin

Oh for goodness sake!

I am sick to DEATH of footballers wives and/or sordid tales of their marriage problems on page 3 of the paper.
I don't give a rats ass if Mrs Boobie Goalkicker is opening a Cafe.
I'm not interested in the 'secrets of a happy marriage' from Mrs Boobie Ruckman whose Mr is a complete knobhead and can only utter phrases like "I'm going to give it 110%", "I can't talk about it for legal reasons", or "speak to my agent".

Just kick the ball around the paddock like a good boy will you?

And why the hell do the media bother people like JULIA GILLARD with questions like what you think about Miss Where-The-Fuck-Are-Ya? having nudie shots published off some thickheaded misogynistic TWERP's mobile in the press? Or John 'JB' Brumby during interviews about the hospital system moving from state to federal??

Who bloody cares?

What the heck - yummy stuff

Like I said HERE, this is no recipe blog - don't look at me for scrumptious recipes to impress those around you.

I've lost my skills via my old friend apathy....and complete lack of a decent oven.

HOWEVER - this is cool.



I've been making this every second afternoon after school and the kids scarf it down. Easy as pie...ermm...a piece of cake..eerm. It's bread stuff.

2 cups SR Flour
30grams butter chopped
3/4 - 1 cup milk

rub butter through flour - sift it if you want. I don't
Make a well and gradually fold milk in to make a sticky dough.
Knead it a bit.
Roll out dough (using your AWESOME glass rolling pin HERE) to make a rectangle about 25 by 30cm.

Here's the cool bit - the original recipe says to smear the dough with jam and choc bits...which is fine but I use savory stuff.

Like grated cheese.
Cheese and chives.
Cheese and whatever chunky dip I have in the fridge.
Cheese and whatever chunky dip I have mixed in with really FRICKEN hot sauce.

The pic is two toned because half is cheese for the kids and the other bits have CHILLI all over cos I'm a chilli kinda girl.

roll it up (you didn't want more pics did you?) from the long side up, cut into pieces...I dunno about 2 cms across? Maybe more maybe less, whatever.

Stick it into a greased, floured (whatever) pan. Who gives a crap what size or shape and put in the oven about 200c for 15-20 mins. Or whatever.

Easy peasy and you look like a bloody champion.

Holy Hailstorm Batman!

O lordy! What a fabulous storm!

It hit with force, suddenly there was gale force winds and sheets of rain. I remembered my car was out the front with all windows down (a usual reason for it to rain), and as I raced out to move it, the golfballs hit.

Disco thought this was a prime time to escape since I left the back gate open but didn't get too far before being pelted on the butt so she zoomed back in on her own accord.

By the time I got back in both children were totally hysterical. My house is old with a tin roof, so on top of the rain being deafening there was the added horror of bomb like noises as the golfballs hit the weatherboards. I screamed at them to stay away from the windows whilst I ran outside to collect a few trophies for later inspection (call me Dangermouse).



I calmed the children with a very LOUD lecture on the wonders of Mother Nature before remembering my bedroom roof sometimes leaks, so I ran up there to discover a new water feature above my bed.



I dragged the bedding off and water literally splashed up the walls - sheesh! The kids sprung into action and ran to get bowls and containers from the kitchen. Note the DOG BOWL in this pic....bless Betty Boos cotton socks.
P.S under the bowls is a rubber backed curtain I keep just in case of roof leakage. No I don't have sheets THAT UGLY...I need you to know that.

About half an hour after it was all over I noticed this



I'm glad the curtains were still drawn, I would have been picking glass out of my soggy bedroom walls.
I heard these storms were coming and yesterday I ran up the ladder and cleaned out the gutter in preparation. I was feeling very smug in a I-am-woman-hear-me-roar kind of way - don't need no man around here - nyah nyah etc etc.
But I left the ladder up against the wall and IRONY of IRONIES....since the wind was howling parallel to the window I strongly suspect the hailstone actually ricocheted off the ladder.....

Typical

A great way to start the day at school.

Say good morning to the chickens scratching around. This one has 'earrings' according to Cyclone and she is a particular favourite. Heaps of schools have chickens now, they ALL should cos they are such funny things to watch.




Giggle at the geese, they always honk loudly every morning - strutting around reminding everybody that they are the in fact the ones in charge...




And collect the ponies and place them around the schoolyard to munch on the grass.
It's the responsibility of the older kids to care for the ponies. At lunchtime they bring them all into school for a drink and back out to the paddocks or the College Oval next door (they quite like the grass being mown for free!).

I thought I liked the animals and the responsibility theme going on at this school, but today I realised there is something else I love even MORE.

There is no school bell, no music played or ear-piercing siren when break/lunch times end. The children do it themselves.
If you get there at the right time (like I do because the first years leave earlier) and sit under the trees you hear them sing everyone in.

It starts with one or two children that notice it's 1.30pm. They call out "time...for everyBODY to come...in...now", then a few more join in "time for everyBODEEE to come in.....now" and it ripples out across the yard and into the paddocks beyond. The older children do a quick scan of the back areas and perimeter all the time singing out to their peers.

Love, love LOVE IT! It's magic.

I hate it, but I NEEEEEED it!

I've sadly realised that as much as I hate Coca-Cola and everything it stands for, it's actually the only (legal) thing that gets me through the afternoons. Nothing else does it. I've just finished reading 2 different memoirs of drug addicts and their paths to sobriety and through all the tales of madness and cocaine addiction, there was no mention of a tidy house so I won't even bother going down that track.
A lovely afternoon Scooby would only create far more mess in the kitchen.
I assume an E would do nothing but make me dance around the house like a spaz...which I can do myself without help thank you very much.

Yesterday I had been up since 5am, the kids were home from school and kinder and I surveyed the state of the house with a dread. I know I have to sort this mess out but I'm too bloody tired.

And if I don't it continues to get worse. I already find it hard to complete things because of the constant interruptions of either WW3, someone at the door, the phone ringing, the children making snacks when I am outside hanging the washing (oh dear LORD), WW5, the dog tormenting the cat and WW5.

I used to have a can of the stuff in the fridge for days like this but in an effort to preserve my teeth and reduce my ever softer and pudgier waistline I have forgone my afternoon wakeup call. I didn't think it made a difference until yesterday.

Scorpio left a bottle of coke here, so I had a glass at 4pm.

Result?

4 loads of washing folded AND put away.
Kitchen clean tidied AND the sink polished.
Bathroom tidied.
2 kids bathed and jarmied, various World Wars resolved.
Awesomely yummy, nutritious dinner made and fully consumed by BOTH children.
Kitchen cleaned up and returned to previously shiny state.
Dishwasher loaded.
House swept
Bedrooms tidied, teeth brushed, both kids asleep by 7.45pm

1 glass of coke apparently means 3 hours of GO GO GO around here. I KNOW everyone else in the world does this routinely but I got behind and apathy has been sitting on my head.

Not anymore...