Wednesday, December 29, 2010


Whoa, I've been a bit quiet haven't it?

It's been a combination of a few things - living life instead of blogging it (lol), working flat out on the house and.....a smashed laptop. NOOOOOO!

My poor darling old lappy fell off the outdoor table and onto the brick pavers rendering it useless. I was pretty shattered about losing photos (DON'T lecture me about backing up, my EHD already shat itself this year) until I was assured by a tech head that he will be able to retrieve most of the data.

This of course means a temporary reprieve for all of you that find my renovating updates boring as batshit. I'll make up for it later though HA HA HA HA!

I've also been finishing off my business website. Well, actually I have been waiting over seven weeks for a so-called 'website designer' to finish stuffing about with the things I can't be arsed doing. Fuck me it's been a nightmare, and of course you can't pay out on them even though it's due because they have you by the short and curly password factor.

This logo was designed by an ACTUAL professional - Angela at Luvly Graphix, at least someone rocks in the design webworld. I'm sure I'll be done in the next 2 weeks, then I'll be flogging it mercilessly. Essence of Balance is a good thang.

Until then, I shall be back with my usual series of verbal diahorreha on whatever subject I feel like.

Cheers xoxoxo

Friday, December 10, 2010

Report on the Bill Issue and the Elvish Fund

It's taken me a while to absorb the magnitude of this tale, and longer to write about it.

My last post was a screaming UP YOURS to a place that provided support and assistance to my nutty Aspy child Cyclone. The support was great but their billing terms were fricken ridiculous and I told them so. (I could put a link in here, but you may as well just scroll down lol).

So the first bit of news to report is I have not received another bill since. I have not received ANY response at all, and I was REEEEEALLY looking forward to it. Since they appear to send these stupid demands via snail mail each Friday without fail and since I have not received one this last Friday past, I suppose I should call VICTORY. Slightly deflated about having no response, but you can't win em all...

The second thing to report is that I appear to have found the funding to cover the shortfall. Well, I actually didn't find found it's way to me via the ever lovely Fat Lady.

Now it was arranged that several of my friends and I were to meet the Fat Lady here in Melbourne. I was pretty excited to be able to squish her and talk face to face but my head was totally blown off when she gives me a hug.....AND A WAD OF CASH!

You know those moments when time stops moving and you can't really hear anything with that roaring sound in your ears? That's what happened to me right then and there. So I will give you the full Lulu of The Artistic Licence version. ie - I'm making most of this up.

The Lovely One read my blog post about these stupid billing terms. She immediately thought to herself "fuck this*, I'm getting on the phone to Santa**".

She called the North Pole direct but Santa was busy attending to the reindeer uprising in the stable (more pay better conditions, you know the drill) so she poured out the story to the North Pole receptionist who was horrified - having an autistic young elf herself and passed the word around....something something Facebook, something something Secret Group....something something SHAZAAM and The Lovely One is handing some money to Lulu to pay for the outstanding amount so she doesn't have to risk incurring fiendish debts at the hands of fiends.

*The Lovely One would never say Fuck.
** The Lovely One doesn't do Xmas or believe in Santa.

So there you go - a little Christmas cheer at the end of a very long year for Lulu Unperfect.

Thank you so much to The Lovely One and thank you to all her elves,

unicorns, dryads and

maenads who made it possible. I luffs you wevvy wevvy much.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Why I avoid the yearly Fat Man photos....

Well first off I can't be arsed waiting in the long lines.

Second, I can't be arsed explaining why there is a Santa on every corner.

Third, I KNOW it's not Santa and I get weird about telling the kids to sit on a strangers lap.

Fourth, like 90% of children, mine are petrified of Shopping Centre Santa.

Except last year. We had a Shopping Centre Santa experience of sorts and it was enough to put me off till I'm 103. It was quiet at the shops (no idea why) and Santa was sitting in his chair looking kinda lonely. After several minutes of observation both Betty and Cyclone decided it was safe to approach.

Things went well, I didn't want photos but we were allowed to speak to The Fat Man. The Cyclone had a lovely if tentative conversation about trains whilst Betty hid behind my legs. After awhile Santa brings out his bag of tricks which I could see was full of lollies. Betty inches closer. I somehow got a little Christmas spirit when I saw 2 pairs of eyes starting to glow. Cyclone was actually talking to someone he didn't know, Betty shuffled a little closer again when the conversation turned to dolls.


Santa asked if the children would like a sweet. They nodded. Santa puts his hand into the bag and brings it out closed.

"Guess which colour sweet is in my hand, son".


I watched the face of the Cyclone...he was shifting from foot to foot and I could see the panic rising in his face. He had a one in 6 chance of getting this right. I don't like those odds and either do Aspies. Santa was oblivious., guesses Cyclone. My panic lessened only slightly when he didn't say blue (his fave) because I knew there were no blue sweets in there.

Slowly the Fat Man uncurled his fist and there it was


Smiles all around, Cyclone couldn't stop talking about it for days and I needed a stiff eggnog when I got home to calm my rattled nerves.

I think I'll wait until they are teens, in which case it's most likely the above photo will look familiar, if their older sister is anything to go by....

Thanks to Awkward Family Photos for the pic

Another random entry for Flog Yo Blog hosting by the nutbag Lori at RRASHAM.....

Monday, December 6, 2010

Channelling McGuyver

Once again I made the trek to my spiritual home (Bunnings), said a little prayer for a pink tool belt as I crossed the threshold and crossed myself with my tape measure.

Directly above me, the Goddess of Budget Home Renovation heard my silent plea, shone her light down from the heavens and said "Unperfect Lulu I cannot grant you a pink tool belt from this house built of testosterone...but I see the sacrifice of your clothing and hair, and the dedication to preserving your fingernails despite your toil - for this I bestow a gift in the paint department"

I wandered over with a trolley to lift the massive tin of Floor Sealer from the paint section and noticed the 'mistint' paint shelf. I can't help but have a look there each time I am there - even though I know it will be full of Bile Yellow, Exorcist Vomit Green and revolting shades of brown. Cheap but unusable, even if you are colourblind. Usually. This time LO and BEHOLD there were several mistints in neutral colours. NEUTRAL COLOURS. In all my years of dedication I have never seen such a thing.

I found -
several sample pots of varying shades for 50 cents.
4 litres of interior eco paint ($52.90) for $20
2 litres of semi-gloss easy coat ($36.28) for $10
2 litres of accent super awesome ($55.88) for $15
1 litre of pale enamel ($29.09) for $5

4 litres of outdoor WHITE down from $58.90 to $15. Because the tin was dented. I have vague ideas of kicking all the tins I want with steel capped boots but realise I don't need to. I have over $350 of quality paint for $65. Thank you Reno Goddess!

Since I am paint McGuyver, I mix the pale mistints in with half a can of ceiling white as a prep coat to cover the foul walls of the PINK room.

It was a pretty gross colour itself but it did the job perfectly.

I used the gloss to cover the yukky old doors

It took days to strip the paint off the old trims, but I'm glad I did because it would have stuck out too much against the rest of the room.

The purple stuff on the edges is masking tape....

About 10 minutes into painting the doors in the gloss, I noticed how thick the texture was....and how it wasn't coming off my hands with a wet cloth. Then I realised I didn't have any Mineral Turpentine. I don't even think I've used gloss/enamel paint before so it didn't occur to me to buy some.

By the time I finished the door my hands were SO STICKY and water made it worse. So I had to drive back to Bunnings for turps with 2 cloths on my hands like a dickhead to protect the steering wheel.

Monday, November 29, 2010


You just KNOW that when renovating an old house that you are going to have 'Uh-oh' moments and in fact several "oh SHIT" moments.

Due to the insane 'architecture' of the previous extension to my home - which includes random materials clearly sourced from questionable origin, I was expecting those moments. My bedroom is a good size...but has two doors. In the same wall. Out of the 4 bedroom doors one was an unattractive shade of green, 2 were poo brown and the last half heartedly painted white.

The carpet was so threadbare in places and surely reclaimed from an old government building....and it was PEA GREEN.

You can catch a bit of the carpet in the corner here. That's Cyclone pulling out staples with the pliers. Let's not talk about the horrific pink on the walls just yet *vomit.

So I pull up the carpet in Betty Boo's old room....and here is the uh-oh moment.

The lighter parts are rotted board and it may be possible put your foot through it

How could I forget the first winter after we moved in when we discovered every downpipe was completely blocked by 20 years of leaves? Rain ran down the walls in both kids rooms and clearly soaked the carpet in the corner. We fixed it the next week, and we didn't have a problem again. Till now.

The next one was an "Oh SHIT" moment.

More water damage, but this is worse because it's floorboards and because that wall backs onto the hell knows what I'm going to uncover when I start on that!


Cut out the damage

Nail down a new section of yellowtongue floorboard at the cost of $19.99

and hope the children continue with their broom obsession because it's really coming in handy.


Friday, November 26, 2010

$25 DAILY late fee? I don't think so...

Got a bill in the mail today - URggh, right?

It's from Cyclones Occupational Therapist. It seems our Early Intervention Funding well has run dry very suddenly, so I need to pay the difference of the his last session.

It's not going to happen very quickly, it's right before Xmas and I'm scurrying around trying to find a little extra funding to help us through till the end of the year. I want to pay it, this OT was doing some good work with Cyclone and was a wonderful source of support to me.

But then I got this -

In case you can't read it, the invoice must be settled in 7 days and "A $25 later fee will apply everyday that payment is outstanding."

Are you fucking serious? Even the Big 4 Banks can't get away with that sort of late fee.

Here is my response

Dear XXXX,

I have received your invoice dated 25/11/2010. As you may be aware our Early Intervention Funding has run out unexpectedly. I am in the process of sourcing further funding to make up this shortfall and will endeavour to pay the outstanding amount as soon as possible. I do consider this a priority.

However - Jesus will descend from the Kingdom of Heaven and play centre-half back for Jerusalam before I will accept a $25 PER DAY late fee.
Please do not expect that this will be included in the settlement of this invoice.


Pfft - the dickheads.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

The State of my CAR!!!

Bloody hell.

I think shit breeds in there, I can't control it - but oh how I try...

Why my children need to take off their clothes in the car is beyond me. Betty is the worst because she cannot keep her shoes on. Even when she is freshly dressed in the morning she takes her shoes and socks off as soon as I put her harness on.

I once found 6 pairs of shoes and eleventy-four random socks.

I KNOW PEOPLE - I should get everyone to take their crap out of the car each day when we get home, and I try but it never works.

Cyclone leaps out of the car before it even stops in the driveway and is away on his bike, Betty follows soon after to chase the Fluffy Mutt who is joyfully tearing after Cyclone and I'm usually bolting straight into the house for a wee I've been holding onto for hours because I'm scared of public toilets.

I have the utterly brilliant idea that leaving the car doors open will remind me to go back and drag all the crap out. Which would be great if I parked the car in the bloody lounge room.

So, clean car people PLEASE tell me how you maintain it. Both sides of the van have large sliding doors so it's particularly embarrassing showing the world what a messy tart I am every kinder and school drop off.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Following on from Ocsober...

I've done a few posts on my views of drinking - HERE and HERE and HERE
including how I have handled my teen daughter and the alcohol factor.

I've had lots of conversations with lots of people about drinking. Considering my obvious love of a drop or 5 I think people can be rather surprised at the fact I simply refused to let my daughter drink until she was 18.

Parental influence shapes a childs attitude to drinking. From every side of every argument - behind it all is your experience as a child. Ummm, says me - but anyway.

My experience.

My parents are drinkers. My family are big drinkers. Every event we have (maybe twice a year) alcohol is flowing freely. We have a wonderful time, we laugh, we sing, we dance. My family have run pubs and red wine is in my veins.

But from that came my Alcohol Education. It was/is unspoken. You EARN your place in the world as an adult. You learn to hold your drink. This doesn't mean jam as much as you can down your throat and manage to keep standing. It means knowing your limit. Everyone has different limits. I would DIE rather than be seen stumbling in front of my family.

From my family I learnt respect for alcohol and what it can do. Just because it was everywhere didn't mean it was for everyone. A good night at the pub is just as much about being a good host and customer service as anything. Most of us have either managed a pub or worked behind the bar. We have seen it all sober, the good and the bad.

My parents had a cocktail after work and a beer after working in the garden. Yes - alcohol was always around and I only ever saw it being consumed responsibly (except when dad had one too many and fell in the pool whilst he was cleaning it. Mums pursed lips was a sign it was NOT alright *grin)

Not everyone has my experience, I have friends with parents that abused it terribly and won't touch a drop. That grew up under the influence of alcohol in the worst possible way. I have met teens that go to groups like Alateen because they are afraid they won't be able to stop like their mum or dad, even though they haven't even started.

Alcohol abuse costs this country millions a year in damages. It has the power to
ruin families and break hearts as well as bodies.

Your children are watching...what do you do to ensure their education? Because you know it doesn't start when they are teens don't you?

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

If these walls could talk.

I just thought I'd make you aware of the fact I am going to bore you all silly with pics of my Budget Home Renovation.

I'm spending every spare moment at the house. Which really is lots of 2 hour blocks so not much time to get an entire house done inside and out. Truthfully - this is supposed to be my funnest time, but it's not. I am trapped by a budget that is minute, I don't have enough time to really chase down the things I want and I worry it's going to look weird and disjointed.

But I soldier on like a bloody trojan because the only way I'm going to get this done is to actually get it done.

I'm alone, the space is huge and I feel overwhelmed by the pain and sorrow infused into the walls I'm washing down. The long sleepless years, the fear of what the future held for Cyclone, the worries of how I was to keep everything together whilst the house and my family was falling apart.

So what do you do?

Ya call in your buddies!

Some are good with powertools

Some aren't but rock up with pizza and willingness to give anything a go

and some just come to keep me company and share a cup of tea, and sweet times with their little boys who thrive amongst all the noise.

And day by day, as the laughs get louder, pizza consumed, the old replaced with the new - the pain and sorrow washed away and replaced with joy and optimism.

I am rebuilding my house, my family home the place I've raised my babies and I'm also rebuilding my spirit.

Wax On, Wax Off.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Henna hair versus Chemical Dye

Alrighty, I have done both and can now give you the proper lowdown.

I have the attention span of a gnat and so does my hair. I get bored with it easily and luckily my tresses can take plenty of punishment.

I go from this

To this

To somehow finding the patience to grow it all out again.

So after this do was looking a bit tired I thought I might try Henna instead of chemicals. Henna is a natural plant derived dye used for centuries and comes in varying colours. I bought some Brown Henna from the health food shop and after crusing Henna Forums, decided to make my own concoction based on that information.

I mixed the henna with black tea, paprika and some lavender water I made up myself (steep lavender in hot water) for conditioning purposes. I heard it was very very messy and was also warned about the smell. I mixed it up to a fairly thick paste but had to thin it out to get it through my hair - which is quite long now.

I didn't find it any messier than a home dye but it was certainly harder to apply on your own. It has a very grainy texture and it felt a little heavy on my head. I just slapped it on and wandered around the house smelling like HORSE POO for a few hours. I recommend doing this in the backyard with a friend.

It took many, many rinses to get it all out in the shower, lots of conditioner and grumbling on my behalf. The next morning I couldn't be sure if it made much difference but WHOA did my hair feel great! Thick, healthy and heavy. I've never had such glossy hair in my life.

This pic was taken about 5 weeks after. The colour seemed to darken over a couple of days so I was very pleased with the result. The colour fades gradually - you don't end up with obvious roots, just an all over softening of the colour. My hair felt great the entire time.

Last night I used a home chemical dye. I couldn't get to the health shop and the box was on sale at the supermarket so I grabbed it. At the very least I thought to myself it will be a quicker process and easier to wash out. And it was on sale.

Yes it was a bit easier but I was very put off by the wastage of a single use foam pump! I didn't take much notice of anything other than the colour and price of the box. I certainly wouldn't have bought it otherwise.

So I like the colour and my hair feels nice

But I'm never using the chemicals again. I forgot how much it damages my scalp and leaves it sore. Whilst it does feel silky it also feels fragile and thin, not full and lustrous like it did with the henna. The packaging and waste is totally ridiculous with home hair dyes so it does more than damage to my skin and hair.

Henna all the way from now. I urge you all to give it a go! Yes it's messy and smells but it's worth it!


Saturday, November 6, 2010

Sanding Floorboards is good for your brain...

Whoa - it feels like I've been away for months.

I've sat down to post...but then got all meh about it.
Then I got Foxtel and had to catch up on months of complete TRASH tv.
Then Cyclone restarted school and it's been a very successful venture and therefore I've had more time to do other things.

These other things have made me particularly tired and nearly unable to think which has been quite a lovely holiday from a head jammed full of a million different thoughts shooting in 500 different directions.

It's all been very Wax On, Wax Off and good for the soul, and my house is benefiting too.

Due to budget restrictions (who am I kidding - budget STRANGLEHOLD), I've had to do the floors of the house myself.

50 years of dirt -

I pulled up the carpet in a rampage when Betty Boo started crawling. We had three dogs at the time and carpet is just ick. I left the boards bare for 2 years but it was still cleaner than carpet.

This is the remnants of old lino glued fast to the timber. I hope it's not a problem to rip off - I can always tile over it I suppose.

With all the carpet up and staples pulled out of the floor it's time to punch all the nails into the floor. All of them! If you don't you will rip the nailhead off when sanding (not good) and rip the sandpaper to shreds.

You can see the sanding machine ready to go in the before shot.

More before

Half done!


New carpet - over $2500
Do it yourself sand and polish $450

It's loud and dusty and will take an entire weekend but I'm thrilled with the results. The sander isn't too hard to handle once you get the hang of it and I'm pleased to report no holes in the timber.

Here's a gratuitous sexy powertool pic....sorry that's as sexy as it's gonna get with a floor sander.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

I gots a microphone


So imagine me in front of blogworld with my twinset, pearls and a little amplifier and listen whilst I tell you stuff.

The Fat Lady
has this liddle meme-y/linky thingo going that I have been meaning to participate in for awhile but I haven't because I have been caught between a small existential crisis and the idiocy of Telstra Bigpond.

I'm still having the crisis but fuck it, I'm not letting my buddy down AGAIN this week!

So I'm spruiking my fave blog - actually I'm spruiking three of them. When I finally returned to my blog I ran straight to my favourites cos I missed them.

1) Revealing the Real Me, Andrea I just love. Just quietly her photo sucked me in because her eyes sparkle and her posts are so sunny. She also doesn't mind when I drop the F-bomb in her comments section.

2) Kelley at Magneto Bold Too This chick has serious crap going on but at all times makes me laugh whilst rockin her old lady shoes. Check it out.

3) Jemikaan -you MUST read this post. It's so close to my heart and if your heard The Fat Lady spruiking my Cyclone blog you will see why. The difference love, understanding and positive re-re-reinforcement can make to a child's life. there is going to be a 2010 remake of To Sir With Love over this post I can tell ya. I might even volunteer to sing (screech) the soundtrack....yanno, cos I'm Lulu and all.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

High School Reunions

My 20 year high school reunion was this week....and I decided to go.

I haven't been able to draw breath much lately and it seemed yet another thing to stress about, but I was DYING to see some old friends. Lots I have already caught up with on Facebook and that made the idea more appealing.

We all had months to crap our pants about it, feel old and wonder if we really wanted to go. My Unperfect life is a pretty open book anyway so I shook off my sooky-pants, shaved my armpits and skidded out the driveway as the sound of my screeching offspring faded away. Clearly a good choice already.

It was wonderful. Most people I could pick across the room, others it took awhile to match...but there was shrieking and smiles aplenty. Constant flashback memories and "remember when?"

It wasn't a long night - after all, this was a Catholic School and it was held on a during the week, but enough emails and phone numbers we exchanged so we can have a longer catch up soon.

I'm pretty sure everyone was still the same. The loud ones remain loud, the quieter one still reserved and we have all lived the rollercoasters of our own lives and come out sorta normal.

I was thrilled to hear of a friend who ran away to the UK nursing her broken heart, spent years in a sharehouse with 26 people sucking up all the drugs she could get her hands on whilst maintaining a job with an elite makeup company.
Two of the brightest faces there credit their happiness to recent divorces. The most positive girl in school remains the same and has had 42 different jobs in 20 years.

No one was down on failed relationships or careers that didn't work out - they were sources of laughter. I didn't have a bad time at school, I don't have any horrible memories. Things that might have seemed terrible back then are funny now. Things that were funny then are even FUNNIER now.

Burning memories

- daring to go up the bell tower to find the dead nun in the rocking chair.
- the infamous chairthrowing incident with T and Mr M.
- Being lined up on our knees whilst they measured the length of our dresses.
- The young priest who wrote FUCK on the blackboard during "sex ed".
- The passionate maths teacher with her beautiful saris who was completely wasted on us.
- the day the local fire brigade came to assembly and filled the entire courtyard with foam.
- the day Mr M was "arrested" during assembly and put into the back of a divvy van with the entire school screaming with laughter.

On a separate and far more sombre note, I was shattered to hear of the death of Elizabeth. In my eyes she was the Ice Queen. Statuesque, nordic blonde and with an almost supernatural disposition. She was unflappable, supercool and when I named my youngest daughter I thought of her.
Something insidious stole her away from her friends, family and worst of all herself. That razor sharp brain and confidence diminished. I didn't have any preconceived notion of what she was meant to be, but to be cut short like that was certainly not in the plan, not right and what pisses me off about the world sometimes.

A short life - but one that made a lasting impression on many people. I'm sorry you
couldn't stay Liz.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Im back - with AWARDS!

Whale snot, shit/fuck and fruit bats giving blow jobs – it’s all here folks!

The Ig Nobel Awards have recently been announced. Don’t confuse this with the Nobel Prizes. The Ig Nobels are awarded to scientists whose research makes us laugh…and then makes us think.

Photo of Nobel Laureates Roy Glauber, Sheldon Glashow and James Muller at this years awards modelling the Gas Mask Bras that won an Ig Nobel last year..

First up, for Medicine – the Dutch scientists that discovered riding a roller coaster can treat asthma symptoms. Lucky I don’t get asthma because there is no way you are getting my arse onto one of those things.

Engineering Ig was won by a Mexican/British team for using a remote control helicopter to collect whale snot. Laugh! Then think….how else would you go about collecting snot from whales when you need said snot to monitor disease in whales and help their conservation as a species?

Physics Ig
goes to the New Zealand researchers that proved wearing socks outside your shoes reduces slipping on icy paths. Thanks for that guys. I don’t like slipping over on the ice, but I would never have thought of putting my socks on OVER my shoes….

Management Ig Nobel goes to the Italians for “demonstrating mathematically that organizations would become more efficient if they promoted people at random”. Claaaaassic, and I believe it too.

Biology – the Chinese/British researchers skipped off with their prize for revealing documented evidence that female fruit bats perform fellatio on their partners. This is big because apparently humans are the only species that do this….and it shows that fruit bat ladies are really hot little shaggers because giving your bat bloke a blow job before you do it, makes the act of bat copulation looonger. Go you dirty fruity things!

BUT the one I love the bestest and which PROVES my point about fuck being one of the most satisfying words is the Ig Nobel for PEACE won by the Brits and Keele University that proves swearing relieves pain.
During their research they found volunteers could tolerate more pain if they spat out swear words rather than something neutral. In the words of Richard Stephens, the new Ig Nobel Laureate “swearing induces a fight or flight response and nullifies the link between fear of pain and pain perception”.

I can also back this theory with some evidence of my own. See many moons ago I woke in a hospital bed to some random dude using his entire body to ram a metal pole (artistic licence much?) into my chest to relieve the pressure of what turned out to be a collapsed lung. Local anesthesia did nothing to relieve the shock and pain, but I was told to swear my little butt off – which I did with relish and oh MY it really worked. Then I got some decent pain killers and had a great hallucinations……but the swearing worked it’s magic. Fuck yeah.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Welcome to WTF??? The remix...

Thank you to everyone that commented on my Perfect Day, Iz feelin the lurrve.

Of course, the higher you go the harder you fall and we have had a very difficult few days since. In fact I decided it was MY turn for a meltdown and ended up calling Lifeline....only to be told I should call the media. Yes people...apparently I should call A Current Affair. I will say that the effect was immediate in that I ceased to feel helpless and instead felt anger...job done people. It stopped me whining at least.

In any case I thought I'd let y'all know I'll be hanging out at my other blog Lulu and The Cyclone for awhile to process all the crap that's been happening around here lately. I'm in the kind of mood where I may very well tell random strangers their babies are ugly or start tripping over picture-perfect mummas at the shops - best I retreat to a cave for a little bit.

My WTF moment reminded me of a post I did back in May, here it is -

Ever read the piece "Welcome to Holland"? Check it out HERE. It was written in reference to finding yourself with a child with a disability but all the mums of kiddies On The Spectrum liked it so much we pinched it for ourselves.

Madmother did her own version called Welcome to Somalia

Here's mine -

The Steward announces over the intercom - Welcome to Holland! I grab her arms as she bounces past. Errrm, no I tell her - this plane is going to Italy! I paid for these tickets months ago, I've learnt how to say alcohol in every different dialect!

The Steward looks confused and returns shortly - there has been a mix up, I'll get back to you. Here's a vodka. After circling for hours she returns and announces we will be landing in Las Vegas.

WTF? I don't want to go there - it's too bright and shiny and the noise never stops. I planned on Italy, dammit. What's wrong with these people? Doesn't the pilot have a fricken map?

Oh thank goodness the plane is descending....I look out the window and see Somalia - NOOOO! The plane suddenly raises altitude again and I watch for another few hours whilst we fly over Egypt *sigh, circle over Iran, over Nepal *sigh

I need to stretch my legs, I'm sick of watching Adam Sandler movies over and over, the food is wretched and they have RUN OUT OF VODKA.

I have no idea where or when this plane is landing and now I don't care. At least I'll have friends in Holland and Somalia...maybe a few in Las Vegas. I just want to GET OFF.

Where do they keep the fucking parachutes?????

Friday, September 17, 2010

One Perfect Day

I have seriously had the best day! I have to share it and don't crap on me because this is BIGTIME in the Unperfect household. On every level.

When I tucked Cyclone into bed last night he mentioned making me breakfast in bed. Lo and behold - after an uninterrupted sleep for both of us, I woke to hear movement in the kitchen. I lolled about, loving that I woke up on my own (no cats on face, dog snuffling at the door or an elbow in my face) and soon saw a grinning Cyclone face peering into my room. Look mummy!

He did it! The little monkey filled the kettle and boiled it, got out the toaster and the toast fixings, knocked on The Batchelors bedroom door and asked for help with the kettle and presented me with tea and Vegemite toast in bed.

After a lovely breakfast we got dressed no complaining and decided to seize the day with a short bike ride. We headed to the local school for a meeting to enrol Cyclone for next term. He was nervy but delicious, and played fairly quietly whilst we all discussed his future and funding issues. All went well.

Feeling pretty confident we headed to the shopping centre to buy a pair of scissors and craft paper. Job done quickly. I found a pair of 3/4 pants for summer on sale and recklessly decided to try on a pair in size 10.

OMG they fit!!! Bought a pair in black and one in grey. Arrhythmia inducing stress must have benefits after all.

Yeah bitches SIZE TEN.

Cyclone wants a drink but doesn't like the choices available. Nearly melts down. Breathes instead. Chooses drink and skips off.

I really start pushing it and buy some henna to dye my tresses. Decide not to push it further.....until I walk past a cheap haircut place ("no appointment needed!, cash only!"). I stop. I ponder. Ah FUCK IT, I never have the time for a cut. My hair grows quickly so even if they stuff it up I'll get over it. It can't be worse than long, long, long boringness and borrowing Betty Boos hairclips. Cant it?

I breathe in deeply and let it out when I see my stylist is a stunning asian guy with an amazing precision cut I can't stop staring at. He chops about 4 inches out and layers it perfectly...and listens seriously when I beg him not to 'feather' it about my jawline. He cuts in my fringe (WAY BIG DEAL TO ME) better than I hoped.

Cyclone has sat still the entire time. Katy Perry blasts through the speakers and I notice his little head bobbing and feet tapping. "It's ok to dance baby" I tell him. So he does - not over the top but enough to have the entire place grinning. I don't bother wondering how an child with such anxiety can dance in front of strangers..I just drink him in.

I walk out with the cut of my dreams.....for THIRTY FIVE DOLLARS.

We spend the afternoon cutting, pasting and watching "The Deadly 60" (shudder) on T.V.

I spend nearly an hour having a great chat with my 18 year old who is right in the midst of her final year exams. She has just ACED one and we have high hopes of her getting into Nursing/Midwifery at university next year.

Betty calls me from daddy's house to say goodnight. Cyclone hops into bed clutching all his stuffed dogs and we talk about our Perfect Day. Cyclone starts getting upset and I hope a meltdown isn't on the way....he is crying because "I just want to be the best boy in the world but it's sooo hard". Crises averted when I ask him to take care of my childhood doll Molly.

I can't wipe the smile off my face. I feel so NORMAL. My head isn't pounding, my stomach isn't in knots and the vodka bottle sits unopened on the shelf.

So I have a drink for Celebration rather than Medicinal purposes and bop around the house channelling Spongebob Squarepants.

"It's the beeeest daaay evveeeer!"