Unperfect Life

Today

2011-01-14T10:21:00.002+11:00

I called it a funeral but it's not. It will be a celebration....but when I woke this morning I realised I was far too close to the edge. Will I even make it through? Just a few more hours.

We are having 2 send offs Amy because - well we can't find a place big enough to hold everyone. There are so many people I long to see and hold, no one will be wearing black. People are coming from all over the world, interstate and around the corner.

I can feel the overwhelming need from so many people wanting to pay tribute and to show her family how much they loved her. The circus and film friends have been so so sweet with their gentle enquiries - will the service be in a church? (hell no) Is it ok if we don't wear black? (hell yeah).

The circus has offered their tent to hold the second service. I am going to be the ringmaster, and we will gather in the tent so I can blow the whistle for one minute of wild ruckus in respect. There will be drums, juggling, hoops, firetwirling. We will all go mad. We will sing songs, swap stories laugh and cry.

But I'm just distracting myself from today.

Holding on just a little bit longer, just a bit longer for my family

I'm okayish

2011-01-10T00:34:00.007+11:00

Right now I am cushioned by serapax, so the constant feeling of hysteria is contained temporarily.

I think writing my last post was wrong somehow. How shocking for you all to read that...of course I had to somehow vomit it all out, and this is the blog I started to keep track of my life.....but I forget people read it, and are used to laughing when they come here.

Just now I have to cushion you all too, and try to make it better. My sister lived the fullest, most full ON life. There were no empty spaces and Amy did things most of us couldn't even dream about.

I can't tell you everything now, so I will just cut and paste something I wrote on my home community forum so you can take something positive and say to yourselves "there is so much more I can do with my life" and by that I mean taking joy out of every single thing like Amy did.

Amy was elastic girl, it's a family trait. She started gymnastics rather young....and was headed for the Olympics. But her team just burnt out. It really was too much. But Amy kept it up. We always thought she should be a clown. As a child she would spend hours pulling faces in the bathroom mirror. She literally ran off to join the circus...but in the coolest way possible. She did puppetry (and was on FARSCAPE!), she did Tissu, she trained the Flying Fruit Bats, she worked with Circus Monoxide and Circus Oz. She took Belle to her first Gay Pride march. She was kinda gay but couldn't decide (yanno, its kinda convenient ). She was the first graduate of NICA (National Institute of Circus Arts), were she got her degree in Clowning and Trapeze. Mum and Dad came to her performances but could never watch her fly in case she fell. She never did.

Thanks why I don't want "fly free with the angels' - because Amy already was one. I will never forget watching her grace as she flew over the top of us all, dressed as an angel, with white feathers floating gently from her wings to the ground.

When Belle was just learning to stand Uncle Amy used to balance her on ONE HAND. Nearly had a heart attack when I walked in on them in the lounge room. I hope I can find the pics of her balancing Belle on her feet - oh I have to show you to believe it.

She loved my children so much she wanted her own model. She made one and he is beautiful.

I was there when Fin was born. It was the most fantabulous birth. We had a DJ...well a laptop and 2 awesome friends. We bopped, we danced and we watched Fin emerge, we cracked up laughing when Amy decided she must be a man because the gas made her voice so low and dammit we even got her to pretend she was Barry White.

The bestest thing was that I told her how amazing I thought she was. With family you assume they know how much you love them, but it needs to be said out loud. She looked after my dad when I couldn't. And she did a better job.

Everyone needs a sister like her.

Flying high over the stadium in Dubai, see the structure at the bottom? That's the roof of the MASSIVE stadium...and yes she is upside down.

So proud to have a tummy full of her very own baby.

Thank you for the message, I hope this makes you feel a little better.

Half Life

2011-01-08T02:18:00.002+11:00

For the rest of it, I will be only half. Half an Unperfect Life is the way it is then? Oh ok.

No, hang on a minute - I'm really supposed to live the rest of my life without my sister? Really?

Mum calls, her voice was wierd. Where is Amy, someone called someone who called someone else and said she collapsed.
I call other sister whose voice is shaking and gives me the number of someone who is with Amy.....she has stopped breathing.

I call the number, hear another shaking voice that gives me the address and I write it in broken blue pencil, then feel a part of myself leave my body when she says She Is Gone. No, no I'll be there in a minute and fix it up in no time and tell her off for scaring me.

I scream for The Batchelor to come home, I scream at the children for fighting and make them go to their rooms, I scream at the teenager to look after them I have to go.

Do I call mum and tell her? She is interstate on holiday and I think I shouldn't until I get there and know what is really going on, so I keep driving and screaming. Mum calls and she knows because the police tell her, another part of me leaves my body when I hear the anguish in her voice. I scream at her to please come home mummy come home. Mum screams at me to stop driving, call a cab or get someone to drive me but it will take too long so I put on control voice, tell her I'll be fine.

I call Cailin and scream at her. I don't know where I'm going, I'm not sure where I am so she directs me over the phone while I scream out the window.

There are police cars everywhere, I tell them I need to see her. Did they take her away yet, they tell me yes or so I thought. They ask me 100 million questions. A beautiful girl rides up with a bunch of flowers in her basket. I watch her face and hope she isn't here for Amy. I turn away when I hear her scream too but then I sink to the concrete.

She died on the floor of the kitchen in the middle of making dinner for her son. I want to go lie on the floor where she was.

She is still lying there.

More pieces leave my body and I think I'm going to pass out from shock but decide to get a blanket to cover her because I don't want her to get cold. Even though it's 32 degrees. Then decide not to do that and look for a nice shrub in the garden to throw up into.

Blur, blur questions, crying, phone calls blur.

After a while I am 'officially' given permission to say good bye. The Bike Girl and I hold hands and take a deep breath and cross the threshold. We soak her in tears. I look around for signs to make sure and know in my heart that she didn't hurt. She hadn't felt any pain. I don't think she knew what happened and either do we.

Her little boy is upstairs with the neighbour. He is fast asleep on the couch and I gather him up, his head falls against my shoulder and his golden curls tickle my face. I take him home and contemplate being a mother of four.

The little children don't know yet. We don't how to tell little Finush his mummy has gone and we are waiting for someone to help us.

I am terrified of telling Cyclone.

Getting Passive Agressive with the Xmas tree.

2011-01-06T06:18:00.000+11:00

Got your Christmas tree all packed away yet? I bloody hope so, it's MONTHS till Xmas ha de ha haar.

I usually have mine down by the 28th, the 31st at the very latest. I have to wait until the children are out of the house because I can't stand the wailing, but there was no wailing last year because the tree still stands proudly even though it's the January 6. Cos I'm playing Tree Games. Oooh yeah I am.

So I am sharing this house with The Batchelor and I know I've mentioned what a clean freak he is. I can live with that, it's his house after all but there is only so much I can take when he gets whiny about the size of the Xmas tree. It's not huge by any standards, but he wants me to use his Xmas tree. The puny crappy 2 foot high thing just won't do when you have children in the house. He sulks and says - and I quote - "but it won't fit".

It's a fucking 4 bedroom house, don't tell me there isn't room for a nice tree for the children for 2 flippin weeks.

So of course I put my lovely tree up and let the children decorate without ANY input from mummy. The more lopsided the better. HA! Old Grinch. I saw his eye twitch, I swear, and now I'm going to beat him over the head with his own grinchiness by leaving it for another few days yet.

I've made sure to mention every morning since Boxing Day that I will take the tree down that afternoon, but don't.

I've got a good tip for storage.....whenever I get sick of annoying grinchman.

See these boxes? I bought them - no shit - about 15 years ago at The Reject Shop for $2 each. They still have the price tags on the bottom. They are really robust cardboard boxes and I use them to store the decorations. Easy to stack, they protect the fragile things perfectly, you can stuff metres of tinsel in and the best bit is you can decorate the tree then stash the boxes straight under and they look like presents.

I hate a bare tree.

Oh...hello!

2010-12-29T11:57:00.004+11:00

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

Report on the Bill Issue and the Elvish Fund

2010-12-10T07:07:00.001+11:00

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 it....it 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.

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

2010-12-08T07:39:00.002+11:00

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.

THEN IT HAPPENED.

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".

Ooooh SHIT. Inside my head I am screaming "YOU STUPID JOLLY BASTARD, HAVE YOU ANY IDEA WHAT PORTALS TO HELL YOU HAVE JUST UNLOCKED? IF HE GUESSES WRONG HIS SCREAMS WILL SHATTER GLASS AND HE MAY WELL KICK YOU IN THE SHINS, SAINT NICK OR NO!"

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.

Ummm.......green?, 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

GREEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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.....

Channelling McGuyver

2010-12-06T12:16:00.000+11:00

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 paint..in 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.

Uh-oh

2010-11-29T06:48:00.000+11:00

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 bathroom...so hell knows what I'm going to uncover when I start on that!

FIXIN' TIME

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.

TA DAH!

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

2010-11-26T12:59:00.003+11:00

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.

Cheers,

Pfft - the dickheads.

The State of my CAR!!!

2010-11-23T06:54:00.000+11:00

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.

Following on from Ocsober...

2010-11-20T11:41:00.003+11:00

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?

2010-11-20T11:41:00.001+11:00

If these walls could talk.

2010-11-16T21:22:00.005+11:00

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.

Henna hair versus Chemical Dye

2010-11-13T21:51:00.012+11:00

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!

Cheers,

Sanding Floorboards is good for your brain...

2010-11-06T20:28:00.012+11:00

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!

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.

I gots a microphone

2010-10-16T23:09:00.002+11:00

And I'm SPRUIKING!

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.

High School Reunions

2010-10-14T20:56:00.008+11:00

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.

Im back - with AWARDS!

2010-10-04T12:11:00.004+11:00

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.

Welcome to WTF??? The remix...

2010-09-21T16:01:00.005+10:00

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?????

One Perfect Day

2010-09-17T08:23:00.003+10:00

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!"

The state of our hearts

2010-09-16T07:21:00.002+10:00

The usual day routine in the Unperfect household are like this *no artistic licence*.

Breakfast isn't ready fast enough.
Breakfast is "wrong".
The cat is purring too loud.
Sesame Street is STUPID - get it OFF!
Don't want to get dressed.
Betty is dancing in front of the telly. *screaming and fights
Socks are stupid.
Screaming because I missed the ad for Cats and Dogs.
Doesn't want to get in the car, rides bike instead.
Fights to get in the car first.
Screaming because the seat belt won't go in.
Screaming because the traffic lights are red.

"I don't want to read, reading is STUPID, SUCKY and POO."

And so on and so forth.

Aspies are notoriously glass half full kinda kids. I'm ok with it, although it is very wearing my little guy really sparkles and those moments refill me through the negativity.

Last night sucked hard.

I was tired tired tired at 5pm. Usually I don't feel it until after the kids are in bed. Cyclones constant chatter somehow got too much so I set him up on the bench with a can of shaving cream (he loves writing and drawing in it) and asked "please, please don't talk for a little while honey - mummy's head is about to explode".

"Ok, mum - look at my hands!" I nod and smile.

He stops.

"I know it's my fault mum"

My heart freezes. What baby?

"I just know it's my fault - why you are feeling this, and I feel so sorry for you."

My heart cracked and fell onto the floor. Then I picked it up and jammed it back into my ribcage.

I looked up, faked a sneeze to cover the welly eyes but Cyclone had already taken off to watch The Simpsons.

Tomorrow is a Bran Nu Dae and we promise each other to be the best we ever can be, but I can't sleep because I'm frightened I'll hear those words again and worry about the state of my little boys heart.

Honesty and Accountability

2010-09-14T07:53:00.002+10:00

I told everyone in web/blog world that I am giving up smoking because I have to be accountable to someone. I know lots of you are behind me (and a certain Glamourcidal lady needs to hear about it) and it's far easier to let yourself down than your cheer squad.

I also have a personal vendetta against anyone that says "oh I just stopped one day and never went back". Fucking LIARS. I didn't expect to fall pregnant as quickly as I did with Cyclone and had terrible trouble giving up. I really struggled....and I also felt unbelievable hatred towards myself that it wasn't that easy.

I ended up chopping down to one half in the morning and one half in the afternoon. I could do no more. EVERY, SINGLE person I spoke to about it said the same thing "as soon as I knew I was pregnant I didn't take another puff".

I had ONE work colleague that was so sympathetic and agreed she found it terrible - the guilt more than anything. Later on, 100% of these fuckers that breezily told me it was easy, actually confessed they either didn't give up at all (but cut down HEAPS) or it took them MONTHS to finally kick the cigarettes.

Pissed off doesn't even begin to describe the way I felt.

But I love my friends that are HONEST and tell me they still feel the cravings 9 years after they have given up, that they still miss it some days. That want to sit next to me and my stinky cigarette after a few beers and breathe in the aroma (foulness) before remembering why they stopped. Thank you for your honesty.

So I promise to give it to you balls and all ok? If I stumble I will tell you, when I don't I'm gonna SHOUT IT TO YOU and when I get to the end I will thank you from the bottom of my heart.

So far - I got through 2 days Cold Turkey.
Day 3 I "patched up" with Nicorette Patches but ended up have 2 after a particularly horrific day with Cyclone.

I realised that I just wasn't prepared enough. I realised that smoking is just about the ONLY time I have to myself. If mummy is out the back having a cigarette the kids know they have to keep away (and for some bloody reason they listen). In fact I know that is the reason I took it back up again when Cyclone was 4 months old - no one was going to hand me a screaming baby if mummy had a fag hanging out her mouth.

I have to replace that. Maybe I will go and lock myself in the toilet the old fashioned way instead? I also NEVER smoke outside my home (unless it's a night on the town), so I'm used to getting home from being out all day and heading straight out the back for a ciggie. How do I replace THAT habit? I seem to be ok going for hours and hours without one - as long as I know I can have one at the end of the day. Hhhmmm.

So at this point I am allowing myself 5 per day - UNTIL I can get a bit more jiggy with it.

Today I went back to my old house to get my Allan Carr book which really REALLY makes a difference and I will read some of it each night before bed.

Let's see how the next week goes.....EEEeeeeeKKS!

If you have any tips - share them won't you pleeeease?

Favourite words of all time

2010-09-13T09:42:00.001+10:00

I luuurve words. I use lots of them ALL the time. I never shut up really.

As most of you will know I just love the word Fuck. I don't care that some people think it means I have limited vocabulary, only sanctimonious twats say that anyway.

Fuck is awesome because you can say it with such feeling fffffffuuCK. I also like Fucktard but I really don't use it as much as I should.

SANCTIMONIOUS. I use this about twice a week on average.

TRESSES. Just like the way it sounds, it invokes Lady Godiva-ish images or Botticellis Venus type thoughts.

STRUMPET. Thank you Helen Razer for introducing this word to me. Completely underutilized.

GALLIVANT. Everyone laughs when I say this. It may have something to so with the flappy arm movements that come with it.

GRUNTLED. Oh Gruntled! When I first heard you I went into hysterics. Maybe GRUNTLED should marry WHELMED and live happily every after.

TINTINNABULATION. It's just funny.

I got a thing for these words too.

Succulent
Talisman
Woebegone
Resplendent

What are your favourite words? Are there any words you hate?

I have two, but I dislike them so much I can't bear to type them...

Vegie boost for fussy eaters - sneaky but.

2010-09-13T08:09:00.000+10:00

Children get fussy with foods and drive us all spare. Starting a power play at the dinner table every night just raises parents blood pressure and provides excellent entertainment for the kids.

Here is a very easy way of booting the vitamin and mineral intake of even the fussiest of eaters.

Roughly chop -

2 carrots
1 onion
1 leek
4 stalks celery (yep,leaves too if you can fit them in)
4 sprigs parsley (including the stems)
2 bay leaves
1 bouquet garni (from the spice section of the supermarket)
4 black peppercorns

Throw it in a pot with 1.5 liters of water. Bring to the boil then reduce heat and simmer for an hour.

Cool slightly then strain it through a sieve, discard the solids (hopefully into the compost).

Simmer uncovered until the liquid reduces by half, cool and pour into ice cube trays and freeze.

How to use

Stir into a white sauce or bechamel instead of milk (or a bit of both)
Add it to pasta sauce
Use as the liquid in a risotto
Use it with water (50/50 mix) to cook rice or pasta

*from Feeding Fussy Kids by Julie Maree Wood.

Hiding vegies is a great way to ease your mind and make sure the little fussy pants kids are getting enough nutrition. I always present vegetables on the plate at dinnertime anyway. Most of the time I find they WILL end up trying out new stuff if they see mum and dad eating it, and there is no pressure to do so.

Cheers

Oh Yeah, Uh HUH - I'm a WINNER!!!

2010-09-08T23:02:00.006+10:00

Watch me strut, watch me bum dance, watch me Ghetto Z snap all around the room Uh HUH!

I won me a Landcare Pack from Tina Gray

My Cyclone is going to be utterly beside himself and I can't wait to see the look on his face when it arrives! Then I'm going to take it off him and stick it on top of the fridge and refuse to allow him access until he cleans up his room and the last of his "experiments" that involved at least half a roll of toilet paper and two metres of aluminium foil.

AND - no it doesn't stop there - I also won one of these from Mrs Woog Yep, a SAWHOLE TSHIRT!

I'm gonna stick my boobies in that little number as soon as it arrives. Hell, I might even enter a wet Tshirt competition.......in which case Sawhole might get a few emails asking for help for "finding me a good woman to come live wit me and my momma" - but that should be fun, for the readers, maybe not for Sawhole.

NYAH, NYAH, NYAH. Yes I am going to work this winning thing till it's dead because lately I'M NOT A WINNER.

My hair looks like shit and I have one pair of jeans because I can't afford a salon or new clothes because I can't work because my son has evolved from a misunderstood Aspy Child to a full blown one of "those" children. Despite months of fricken therapies administered by yours truly. Every fricken day.

I've spent my last $400 on supplements for Cyclone so I can avoid him going on Ritalin if that is at all possible. It's also costing $300 to do a POO ANALYSIS as well - but I stuck that on The Batchelors credit card and I'm hoping he is too embarrassed to query it when the statement arrives.

So I'm going to enjoy the sunshine, sit out the backyard with my T-shirt and Cap drink lots of vodka and have one of the three cigarettes I am allowing myself per day with a big grin on my face because I WON.

**I better have a Bex and a lie down first, it's too early to drink vodka - even for me....

Cheers

She 28 Campaign

2010-09-08T07:15:00.000+10:00

Great stuff. DO SOMETHING.

Take care of ya face...the basics

2010-09-07T06:07:00.000+10:00

Taking good care of your skin is easy, and you CAN make time for it. You know you will feel better if you do.

As much as I love the luxurious bottles and sexy, sexy packaging of the cosmetics counter wares I am usually too poor for that. I also know it's damn easy NOT to spend too much money on potions.

The first place to start is from the inside. MmmmmK?

Good skin needs plenty of

Vitamin A - found in yellow and orange fruit and vegetables.
Vitamin C - found in citrus fruits, capsicum and broccoli.
Vitamin E - found in nuts, seeds and avocados
Omega 3's - cold water fish, and flaxseed.

Too hard? Do you live on lukewarm tea and toast like me? Take a supplement, it's better than nothing at all.

Yeah yeah yeah - we are supposed to drink 8 glasses or 2 litres of water a day. This just isn't realistic for some people, and those that boast of drinking 3 litres a day aren't doing themselves any favours unless they are running marathons often or are totally full of shit and are hiding the fact they botox their arses off.

Be realistic and get yourself into the habit of drinking ONE glass in the morning (with a squeeze of lemon juice to kick start your liver), ONE glass at lunch and ONE glass in the evening. Much more doable.

Put a jug of cold water in the fridge with a few slices of lemon/orange. You will be surprised how much more tempting it is all ready to go. Excellent example for your children too.

Never overlook the power of water.

Next - keep it clean!

Wash your face before you go to bed. Use a cleanser to remove makeup - NEVER go to bed with makeup on. I know some of you would never dream of doing this but in my time as a makeup chickie babe it never failed to amaze me the amount of people that look surprised when I tell them it's nearly a crime to sleep with a faceful. If you are a working mummy, bum wipes by the side of the bed work wonders removing makeup.
Actually most of my face stuff is in my bedside drawer because I often tumble into bed exhausted and forget about ma face.

Even if you don't wear make up, you must clean the days dust, sweat and pollution away before you sleep.

I'll bang on about cleansers and moisturisers next Tuesday, see you then!

I QUIT

2010-09-04T21:27:00.004+10:00

About 3 hours after I was dancing on the coffee table at my little win this week, I was brought smashing back down to earth.

Mum called to let me know my step father has lung cancer and the outlook is not very good at all. He has been coughing for a few weeks and all of a sudden it's nearly too late. He has never smoked in his life.

Which therefore makes me 15 shades of fuckwit because I DO smoke. Most of the time I love it. Some of the time I hate it. I have been intending to give up for the past two years but there is always some drama that 'prevents' me, or some event or some other issue that requires me to inhale nicotine whilst pondering.

So no more as of today.

Yeah, I'll be shitty and stressed but how much more than what I have been lately? And who cares anyway - I'll get over it. I've given up once and I can do it again but this time it's forever.

Goodbye stinky
Goodbye lethargy
Goodbye dull skin
Goodbye to the illusion I need cigarettes

Hello FREEDOM.

Triumph!

2010-09-01T20:33:00.004+10:00

I WIN.

Although I apologise for the hysterical tone of my last post. My world had fallen out from under me - something I was working really hard towards had been whipped away with one phone call. It was unfair and wrong. The entire situation should never happened at all.

But it did and with the help of some fabulous webfriends I refocussed and lined my ducks up in a row.

Today I called the Independent School Board. I called Cyclones Neurotherapist. I called Autism Victoria.
I emailed my Uncle Forry, who is the head of a boys boarding school.

and I called my mum.

I sketched out the timeline with the help of my diary and my blog, sans emotion. Just The Facts Jack. This helped me stay on track when I was talking to people.

No one promised anything and I knew they couldn't, I just hoped that the situation spoke for itself.

At 3pm I received a phone call from the principal of N School. She apologised. She said yesterday was an awful day for us both and that she wanted to work something out for Cyclone. The school has held a meeting and decided to open a third class due to demand.

I recognise their might have been an influx of candidates for this school, but it's no reason to push Cyclone aside. Or whatever it was that nearly happened there...
I chose to think the Principal was overwhelmed, and that she mucked things up. Nothing more sinister. The apology was very sincere and in a tone far far away from the one she used with me the other day.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to

Diminishing Lucy, Muffin Monster BB, Lady Astrid and The BFG for your support and justifiable outrage.

Madmother, Purple Cath and Jen - thank you for your practical advice - I took it all on board.

I envisaged myself in full battle gear dancing upon the smoking bones of my slain enemies but actually I'm just exhausted. Quietly pleased that the whole episode was over quickly and looking forward to Cyclone starting at school next term.

I can take on these type of battles and in fact I consider us lucky that it's things we have a chance to beat. We are healthy, we are together, we have a roof over our heads.....and once we get cable TV again things will be as perfect as they are going to get in Unperfect Land.

Cheers,

Oh SHIT NO - I really need help here people...

2010-08-31T20:46:00.002+10:00

I have had some shitfully craptacular news today. Apologies for the length but I need to put this story out as far and wide as possible to get any help and advice needed.

My scarily awesome Cyclone is 6 and is on the Autism Spectrum, and most likely ADHD. He started at a brilliant school at the start of the year but it was clear it was too stressful for him. He is very anxious, finds it hard to concentrate and can get very cross when frustrated. Apart from that he is wonderful and a very bright little spark.

We were referred by his current school to a new school that specializes in Spectrum Kids and ones that aren't coping well. They attend this school for one year, then are transferred back to mainstream school with a whole new confidence. They have an amazing track record of literally changing kids lives.

There are NO other schools that cater to kids like this. It is independent. I had several calls/meeting with the principal of "N School" and she said they could certainly help us out and we organised for Cyclone to start Term 3.

3rd June, 1st meeting at school with principal after several long phone calls.

11th June, Cycone had trial run at N School. He ran out of the classroom after about 30 mins and waited by the car.

Told shortly after that he could not attend N School in Term 3 due to – running out of the classroom. She brought up the fact that the school is on a main road and there were safety issues if he was to run out of the school again. Principal apologized and told me “I know it’s not the news you were expecting” and that they could definitely take him for Term 4 – he just ‘wasn’t the right fit right now’ and after I asked her what I should do with him, she advised me to call Current School and ask if they could keep him in a ‘holding pattern’ as they had already been doing for Term 2. I did not think this was a good idea, she asked me to press Current School to so do, for just one more term. I asked her again if they would definitely take him for term 4, she said yes.

I called several autism services/advisors and asked for their advice.
Discussed situation with several family and friends.

Decided reluctantly to homeschool. Advised N school Principal, she was not happy with this and felt he would get too used to being at home and out of a school routine. I advised I would do my best to keep the routine, and after all it was only one term.

I have since spoken to Principal at least 3 times, to advise her of our progress at home and with professional services and to ask her if there was anything further I could to do help his transition to the N School.

The second to last phone call I rang to arrange for Principal to come and observe him at the local library where we do some of our lessons(her request). She said she didn’t have her diary there but would call me in two weeks to arrange a time. I let her know any time was ok with us.

I have not heard from Principal since, but called today – ready for her to again bring up his homeschooling, but instead was told – that she ‘had it in her head that I was going to call her’, that there had obviously been a miscommunication between us both…(sorry, no). I said nevermind I was calling to make an appointment to formally enroll him ready for next term. She pauses then tells me that there is no place available for him.

I completely contained myself and nearly popped several veins in the process – here is a brief outline of the conversation.

Me – are you kidding me, what do you mean there is no place available? You told me he couldn’t go in term 3 but you could accommodate him in Term 4.
Her – I didn’t say that.
Me – yes you did, we have had several conversations about him starting next term, I have been speaking to you since May. I have spent the last 8 weeks homeschooling my son and preparing him for this, you are well aware of the situation.
Her – well I had it in my head that you were to call me, there appears to be a communication breakdown between us. The place has gone to someone else. I’m sorry, this doesn’t seem fair does it?
Me – regardless of you thinking I was to call you – was there a point you were going to call me and advise you had changed your mind about my son, did you think I had all of a sudden forgotten he was to attend?
Her – I have several families needing places here.
Me – have they been waiting as long as I have? Where is the priority here? Are you aware the effect that this has had on my life – are these other children still able to attend school, my son isn’t and needs to get back into the education system. You are the one that kept telling me homeschooling wasn’t the answer. Why have things changed?

Look it goes on and on, but at the end of the day she has nothing and can’t answer any of my questions.
1) She has stuffed up royally and expects me to walk away.
2) All kids need to be assessed – he has had ONE trial day and the principal wasn’t even there and has not met him. How can she assess him?
3) This is a private school, so yes they can pick and choose who attends. This will be a problem but I don’t see why I can’t put some sort of pressure on them to accept him. Especially in the light of the fact I was TOLD he was accepted. If I was told at any time that he didn’t have a definite place I would have made a backup plan.

The backup plan would have involved another school with a huge transition program put in place and these things take time. I also would probably NOT have chosen to homeschool and look for alternatives much much earlier. It is now 2 weeks from the end of term so Cyclone is totally stuffed. You would not believe the stress and pressure I have gone through trying to make sure he is keeping up with his ABC’s, doing physical therapy and running him to 8000 appointments.

I can’t keep him out of school another term, I just can’t. I’m not a fricken professional teacher, OT or psychologist. I cannot offer what he needs alone.

Our neurotherapist just can't believe what is going on, and will call the Principal tomorrow to try and sort something.

What else can I do? Who can I contact? The school board? The Stupidhead Principle Police?

If you are a teacher, can you advise me? What other sort of pressure can I put to get him in? TRUST ME, I will do all I can.
Email luluandcyclone@gmail.com

Please, if you know anyone who works in Education, particularly private can you please ask if they know the correct channels to address this.

And, lastly if you think (or know from experience) that I am up the creek in a barbed wire canoe, please let me know...but just do it gently.

Get your babies ready for Botox!!!

2010-08-30T20:45:00.003+10:00

I saw this ad on shitful saturday commercial television last week and it REALLY PISSED ME OFF.

A bunch of bouncing preteens in lab coats using syringes to do their own cosmetic science. "Rejuvenate your mom" says the voiceover whilst a tired looking run down mummy has crap splashed over her by this sparky bunch of kids. This toy is aimed at 8 year olds so by my calculations, the raggy old mum is around THIRTY TWO.....or maybe even FORTY. Shit, what if she is FORTY FIVE, perish the thought.

Already I have digressed, but ranty pants will do that to you.

So to make your own 'cosmetics and skin care' you clearly need a lab coat and syringes. Excuse me but 8-11 year olds need nothing more than a wash cloth in their fricken watermelon scented bubble baths.

Making syringes and lab coats normal when it comes to skincare just makes me sick, and hurl even further when it is directed towards children.

Yes, I know some kids can have skin troubles at a young age but even if they don't getting to mix up some revolting-ass cheapo chemicals and putting glitter in it will more than likely GIVE them a problem.

So of course the answer is - we don't buy this crap for our kids.
When they scream "I want THAT" when the stupid ad flashes on, we will laugh and tell them what a load of bollocks it is, and that when they are old enough we will show them the way.

And what if you don't know the first thing about it, have forgotten or don't really care?

Don't worry - ole Aunty Lulu will show you so stay tuned.

Am I the only one that thinks this sucks?

Sunday Sagrada - Interior

2010-08-29T09:10:00.000+10:00

Gaudi considered nature his greatest teacher, trees, limbs, tendons, ribs, leaves...

The man was colour blind.

It's just so........organic

I can't find enough interior pictures.....anyone got a spare ticket to Spain?

Saturday Ranty McRant.

2010-08-28T12:03:00.010+10:00

Awwwww, isn't that sweet?

Ain't that just the cutest??

All together now for the basket full of adorable - AAAWWWWWWWWW

So what is the rant, where there is so much cute in da house?

Bloody people. People annoy me at the best of times but ones that decide to get a puppy annoy me more than most.

Someone decides to get a dog. They have a young family and think it would be great for the kids. Something to play with - help teach them responsibility and all....

What kind of a puppy should I get? What would be good with the kids? they ask.

Do you work I ask? Are you at home all day? Why don't you get TWO puppies? Do you have the time to spend on an extra child? Huh?, they say.

Well how much time DO YOU HAVE?

Because I am sick to death of talking to people about dogs (I'm not even a dog person for fucks sake) about the realities of owning a dog then have their eyes glaze over whilst they rave on about the cute factor, and the so called 'family factor'.

Because I am sick to death of these same people asking within a year if they should give the dog up.

It cries to be let in.
It jumps on the children.
It rips the washing off the line.
It eats the childrens toys.
It shits in the backyard and the kids can't play.

These complaints are all in the same tone - it's the DOG'S fault. All I hear is "I don't have enough time and I expect the dog to train itself and clean up it's own shit". "I have spent a good 3 MONTHS playing with my dog and doing all the fun stuff now it's annoying because it STILL wants attention".

I'm sick of these complaints because these people can't even see these issues are THEIRS as a dog owner.

Dogs want to play with you and be part of the family. Do you leave any of your kids in the backyard for long periods of time? (ok ok, I actually do that but I do let the kids sleep inside).
Do you only talk/play/pay attention to your kids when it suits you? Thought not.
If your child gets too rowdy, too needy, too much trouble do you return them or dump them on someone else because you can't be arsed meeting their needs?

NO? So why do people think this ok for pets?

Put the time in. Put the time in long term and you will get what everyone wants from a dog/new family member.

If you STILL want a dog after all that ranting, don't DARE go to a breeder. Don't DARE go to a pet shop.

Head to the local animal adoption service and talk to them first. It's TERRIBLE fallacy that the dogs available there are dangerous because they are abused. You have 10x the chances of getting a perfect (and probably already toilet trained) dog from these people because -

They have a screening process.
They are dedicated to homing these animals suitably....because they love them, don't care about profit and don't want to see the animals back on the street and surrendered again.
YOU will be scrutinised, your family, your situation and the time you have to give will be looked at and that can only be a good thing.
You will potentially save an animal from lethal injection.

And maybe instead of asking what a dog can do for you - why not first ask what YOU can do for the dog....

rant over...I need a bex and a lie down.

cheers xoxoxo

P.S I have no idea why the text is orange in this post.

Don't mind me....

2010-08-26T19:53:00.009+10:00

It's just the 1st anniversary - WOOOOOO of the existence this blog...or blawwg as I like to call it.

I have been rather quiet this week after noticing the date of an old post. I spent the last few days traveling over the last year of my life as a blog. I have to say I am really thrilled that I actually started it. I've never managed to keep any sort of journal before due to my gnat like attention span.

I was encouraged to start blogging by my good friend Mrs Neurotic - she wholly believed I should rant in the webworld rather than her ear and I secretly wanted to start my own Agony Aunt column as well as bitch about shit.

I started off talking mainly about my garden and love of all things that grow in the earth, about the renovations I was doing myself due to total lack of budget and employment, my ex partner Scorpio and his constant brushes with the law and the many antics of my son The Cyclone.

Since then, *sigh - I have lost my house and moved in with a friend (The Batchelor). I miss my garden terribly. I miss my Magnolia, my weeping Japanese Maples and my huge vegie patch with the 8 foot celery. I will restart my garden tips as spring gets closer - The Batchelor is frightened of dirt so I can't dig up his pristine, FERTILE lawn and jam in carrots or tomatoes anytime soon...but I'm sure I'll get over it come summer when I am enjoying many a vodka by the POOL. You win some, you lose some.....

I STILL haven't started Roller Derby, I'm very very very close to relaunching my Bach Flower business, and I'm hoping to get the Agony Aunt up and running soon.

It's been a fun year really, lots has happened and I'm just glad I wrote it all down - life moves fast. Thank you to my "old" blog buddies and those who drop a comment on my drivel. This is surely a place for my own stories.........but it's nice to know someone reads the things I sometimes put my little opinionated, potty mouthed heart into.

I leave you with my ~~three~~ four favourite posts of the last year -

Scorpio gets arrested for assault whilst vomiting

The Day the Dog Jumped Through The Window

Scorpio versus Aquaman

Parenting Separately

and a big CHEERS to all my new bloggy friends that have joined recently, and a special mention to NEURI. Thanks for finally coming out of the closet bwah ha ha ha ha ha ha!!!

Here's one for you, and you, and you and you and you

When life give you lemons baby - REACH FOR THE TEQUILA!!!!!!!!!

A Story

2010-08-24T08:23:00.004+10:00

There once was a girl and a boy. They didn’t see each other very much now. Their worlds didn’t collide, their ships didn’t even pass in the night anymore. He was a now a happy memory and She was a fragrant ghost that would return only in his dirtiest dreams.

He was busy, she was busy – they both had their own lives now.

He saw Her walking down the street and hurried across the road to talk to her. She was pleased to see him as always. As they chatted over coffee they realized work would bring them to the same city the very next week. They arranged to meet then.

She got there earlier than He and fussed about with her hair and touched up her nailpolish. Finally He arrived, not a moment too soon. They were both squirming and self conscious. They made small talk for awhile until He pulled out a joint – for old times sake. To remember the uni days, where they first made their connection. To break down the time barrier and return them to the times when things were simpler, easier and hazy with sex.

She lit the candles, he lit the joint.

They laughed. They even laughed harder. They ate all the food in the mini bar and drank all the tiny bottles of scotch and fell about laughing again.
They crawled into the bathroom, where the spa bath was waiting. Full of bubbles but cold through neglect and stoned hysteria. They crawled to the shower, managed to turn it on, sat on the floor and washed each others hair.

They fell into bed with limbs entangled and were both asleep in minutes.

THE END.

True or False?

Sagrada Suspended For Headlines - read all about it.

2010-08-22T00:52:00.003+10:00

Sunday Sagrada has been temporarily postponed until next Sunday due to the election stuff/stress/issues OMFG!!!

This is huge news in Australia, as I type there will be a Hung Parliament (?), Whoaaa Nelly.

I don't have much to say about it (shellshock) except to remind everyone to make sure you buy the newspapers today, read them and then stick them under your beds tomorrow. Keep them for your kids.

I KNOW the world is all online and kids can just type shit into Google for themselves, but there is nothing like having a tangible piece of history in your hands.

My Aunty Nancy kept the front pages of The Sun from the first landing on Mars, in a copy of Carl Sagans Cosmos. I treasure that hard copy, the smells the feel of the dry paper between my fingers. You can't get that off a keyboard.

Happy Sunday!

*sigh

Teen Queen learns....

2010-08-20T06:47:00.004+10:00

So...I spent alot of time consciously educating my teenage daughter about drinking. Did it work?

Here are my past posts on the subject HERE and HERE

When she was 16 she was invited to a small party. I didn't know about it until I called my father that night for a chat. Teen Queen has stayed overnight at her grandads on a Friday since she was little. Dad told me about the party and when I made seething noises down the phone he assured me he met the girls father and he seemed very very nice. I trust dad's judgement, but I was still annoyed Teen Queen hadn't mentioned it. Not much I could do now, I would ground her when she got home for not telling me she planned to go.

I had just resettled the baby and the phone rang. My blood ran cold. At 11.30pm it's never going to be good news. Scorpio picked up the phone and spoke for a bit, then passed the phone to me. "It's your mother, Teen Queen isn't hurt don't panic." My MOTHER? She lives nearly an hour away, what the?

It turns out my daughter is pissed out of her tree at this party. Her friends tried to call me but they couldn't prise the phone from her drunken fingers. She only released it on the promise no one would call me. I'm mortified - how embarrassing to hear my daughter is drunk from her grandmother!

Mum let me know the parents of the party girl were on the way to my place to drop off Teen Queen. I quickly got dressed and waited in the driveway ready to clobber whoever let my child get in that state whilst in their care. They arrived shortly after, Teen Queen in the back set with a bucket on her lap and friends on either side holding her hair out of the way. Scorpio practically carried her into the house, she could barely walk.

I squared up to the father. WHAT on earth was he doing allowing this to occur? He apologised but quickly explained he was bewildered himself. Whilst he did allow alcohol at his home, it was only a small party and he was supervising the entire time. He said one minute she was fine and chatting away, the next she just dropped to the floor. He didn't understand because she couldn't have had more than 2 drinks.

There was a horrendous noise from the house, so I thanked him and returned inside to find dear Teen Queen lying on the floor of the kitchen retching into the recycle bin. I demanded to know what she had drunk and how much. "Only one drink mummy", she said over and over (now I'm mummy lol) in between dry heaving into my bin. What was it, was colour was the bottle, who gave it to you?? Silence. Heave. Did you take anything else? "No muuuummeee, I promise".

I was concerned someone had spiked her drink because one drink just could not produce results like that, but she also seemed to be telling the truth. I left her there on the floor, satisfied she wasn't going to die of alcohol poisoning and had a cup of tea whilst calming down.

I called mum to let her know what was happening. "One drink, are you sure?" she asks, then thinks for awhile. "Well either she takes after her father or you brought the wrong baby home from the hospital - she certainly doesn't take after our side of the family". Too bloody right.

I went inside, poured her into bed whilst telling her she was no child of mine due to her pathetic efforts. Scorpio and I sat up for awhile laughing our asses off at the thought of Teen Queen stumbling to the toilet tripping over all the crap all over her bedroom floor.

She was sick for the rest of the weekend but I had no sympathy, just handed her the phone and made her call her grandma, grandad, the party girl AND her father to apologise.

That was a couple of years ago now, and she only recently confessed that whilst it was true she only had one drink, she let someone (a guy) she didn't know make it for her. She knew it was stronger than it should have been but she thought she knew better than her mumma.

THE END.

Simple Snacks

2010-08-18T20:59:00.006+10:00

This is TOOOOOOOOOOO simple.

I got rather annoyed when I saw a packet of 'cheese twists' or some such other description on a box in the supermarket awhile back. You can make them in about 15 minutes with minimal fuss - kids love them for an after school snack, they go great with dips and if you are over garlic bread this is the thing for YOU.

Get a sheet of puff pasty out of the freezer. Let it thaw whilst you assemble the garlic (the minced stuff in a jar that should always live in your fridge), the parmesan cheese, preheat the oven and pour yourself a pre-dinner drink.

Spread the minced garlic over the entire sheet. Do it sparingly, depending on how much you love the stuff. I dip a teaspoon into the jar and use the back to spread it around. The garlic juice is lovely.

Sprinkle the parmesan all over the sheet. If you like you can use grated cheese too.

Cut the sheet into half. Place one half over the other so both cheesy sides face UP. Squash it down a bit.
Cut that in half crosswise to make it shorter.
Cut in half again and place that over the top - so you are layering.

Cut your layers into 1 cm slices - twist gently and place on baking tray, and into the oven at about.......ummm 180 for about ummm........10 minutes.

TA DAH!

These are a little overdone because I forgot the oven has a TIMER....and the phone rang, then I had to wipe someones bum and answer the phone.

Enjoy.

Other combinations - Why not add chilli if you like it hot? Sprinkle some mixed herbs over the garlic instead of cheese.

The noctural fashions of The Betty.

2010-08-17T09:10:00.001+10:00

So as each day closes and I hear mummies all over the net breathing a sigh of relief that the day is done and children are sleeping - I start the nightshift of Kid Wrangling with Betty Boo.

Clearly it's not enough filling my day with homeschooling the Aspy Cyclone and therefore dealing with (so far today 3) meltdowns, filling in behaviour charts, adhering to rigid schedules and sticking gold stars all over the fricking place.

Betty has a problem getting to sleep. I'm pretty sure it's because Cyclone used to leap off the couch onto the hardwood floors at precisely the time I was placing her in the cot when she was a baby. Now she is 4 and still waiting for the other shoe to drop. By bouncing all over the bed and constantly coming out of her room, often till 10pm.

Then she stopped coming out of her room and that was almost fine with me, at least she wasn't wandering all over the place and interrupting my vodka appreciation moments. It wasn't worth it though. She spends her time in the room systematically pulling everything out of the wardrobe and wearing it in strange combinations, so by the time I would creep in to see her asleep there would be piles of (clean, DAMMIT) clothes all over the floor and Betty spread all over the bed looking like an extra from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, only cleaner.

Dora pjama top. Yellow sundress 2 sizes too small.

Return of the pink sundress, pink top 1 size too small and a pair of mummy's spanx.
At this point I realise she is foraging for clothes beyond her current wardrobe.

It looks like her favourite party dress and apron are too uncomfortable to sleep in after all

I wish I thought of taking more pics before last week, but hopefully the fashion shows are at an end and Betty will go to sleep just like a proper girl. I'm too fricken tired for this shit anymore.

Please tell me I'm not the only one going through this so many years past the baby stage...pleeeease???

Look at me - Kimmoi, look at meeeeeee!

2010-08-16T07:20:00.001+10:00

Do you love it, do ya do ya do ya?

This is a temporary measure...I think. I've been bitching and moaning about wanting a new look for about 100 years, then it's all too much and I can't be arsed.

I would love a custom blog but shit on a stick there is so much choice and I have no fucking idea about columns sidebars widgets and fidgets. Well I sort of do but I just want to point at shit I like and grunt so I can leave someone else to do it.

The is NO "point and grunt" option on any of the custom blog designers so here I am.

AND sometime later today I am changing my ~~brassy~~ golden tresses (oh FUCK I love the word tresses)to chocolate brown. I'm hoping for this colour.

I'm not even going to backfill it with red cos I'm a RISK TAKER, ya hear? Hell yeah, I live on the edge. I'm even going to let Cyclone assist and god help the dog if she comes near me during the process cos she is gonna get a dose too.

I was going to do it last night before bed, but it's better during the day. Anyway last time I did that I stumbled into the bathroom half asleep the next morning and scared the shit out of myself.

Happy Monday!

Sunday Sagrada

2010-08-15T08:43:00.000+10:00

The Passion Facade.

At the front of the Sagrada Familia is the Passion Facade. Harsh, blocky sculptures, and a skeletal look.

Sculptures by Josep Maria Subirachs, designed to be dramatic, provoke fear and to be a reminder of Christs suffering.

Still not religious here, but this is just stunning.

Thank you for your comments and complete agreement of the magnificence of The Sagrada Familia. For those who asked - no I haven't been there *sob *wail. If you do post pics on your own blogs let me know so I can link 'em up.

Teenagers and alcohol

2010-08-13T09:07:00.002+10:00

Expect your child to try and break the bond between you and them. They are trying to become independent and lets face it, when you want to be BIG the parents have gotta go.

I told Teen Queen that I would ‘teach her to drink’. This did not mean giving her the taste so she could win drinking competitions at the local pub. More like a modern “Keeping Yourself Nice”.

I let her have a taste of the drink I was drinking whilst cooking dinner. She learnt to identify what taste (if any) and if it was too strong.
I explained the term ‘standard drink’, showed her a 30ml measure. I went over how alcohol can affect a person differently due to weight, the time of your menstrual cycle, if you have eaten etc.

I DID tell her in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t to drink those ridiculous alcopops or any other nasty cheap stuff. Standards people, standards!

NEVER to let anyone else mix a drink for her or to leave a drink unattended. I gave her more real life reasons for this.

I told her that without a doubt that any male who wanted to buy/provide an underage teenage girl a drink was up to no good and to avoid them at all costs. ALL COSTS. Yes darling Teen Queen you are beautiful and interesting, but these men/boys just want to get into your knickers.

I didn’t go on about the reasons why Teen Queen shouldn’t drink - there is a part of the teenage brain that immediately switches off when it senses a lecture approaching – I gave her information and hoped that she used it. HOPED??? Hoped – you say?? Will that be enough? I think it has to be, it’s not like I would be able to tag along everywhere she went.

I didn’t “sit her down” or sermonize, I didn’t speak to her like a child. I used whatever opportunities arose day to day. This went on over a period of years. All of this time I dropped her off and picked her up from parties. I called nearly every friends parents and introduced myself – I made quite a few connections with other parents with the same values as I.

Did it work? I’ll tell you next week……

brought to you by the nutter Lori at

Extinct...again?

2010-08-12T22:02:00.003+10:00

Silly post about something that irritates me.

THESE are AWOL. We love love love Spagasaurus at our place, especially for breakfast in winter.

Pity their numbers are rapidly declining from the supermarket shelves, taking with them Alpahgetti and Numbergetti. This is NOT COOL.

Not only do we love it for brekky but it's my number one back up plan in case of the I-can't-be-arsed-cooking-dinner moments. What am I gonna doooooooooooooo??

It's been months and I was just ready to face dinosaur re-extinction when I noticed them back. Well sort of. They are back. But smaller. And in stupid packs of 4. Completely overpackaged in paper and plastic. Now I'm not buying them on packaging principle.

So THERE.

Rant over

EMO Cat goes too far

2010-08-09T10:52:00.002+10:00

Emo cat has been more mental than usual lately and usually it’s a source of amusement, not this time.

For the last two weeks, he has been going a little crazy. Eating like a rhinoceros, scratching my legs to ribbons and doing the Emo Cat Death Stare overtime. I think it’s because Betty Boo has been a complete ratbag and refusing to go to sleep at bedtime. Since that involves bouncing all over her bed, Emo cat can’t go to sleep at his preferred time of 8pm. He must be turning into geriatric old fart Emo cat.

He has always been a bit quirky, and has a memory like an elephant. He hates Aquaman because when we were married he wouldn’t allow Emo cat to sleep on the arm of the couch, which was up until the nuptials, his favourite place to kip. I know some people don’t like animals on furniture but personally I don’t see the point of having a cat and not let it drape itself all over the place. But I digress – Aquaman and I haven’t lived together for about 8 years, but everytime he comes to visit Emo cat strides up and pisses on his car. He doesn’t pee on anything else – he saves it for Aquaman.

But this time he has gone too far. Emo cat has been upset and apparently now I must pay.

The bastard peed on my dog.

Horrible, stinking boy cat wee, soaked deep into the plush pile of Fluffy Mutt’s coat.

BASTARD.

Sunday Sagrada

2010-08-08T09:56:00.004+10:00

I have discovered Sagrada Familia - official name Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Familia, a Roman Catholic Church in Barcelona. Under construction since 1882 (yep, you read that right) and expected to be finished in 2026.

I am obsessed. Totally obsessed, so therefore I am sharing it with you every Sunday until I'm done with it. Which could be never.

The Sagrada Familia was designed by Antonio Gaudi, who took Neo Gothic to a new level with his truly impressive understanding of geometry and style based on nature. Gaudi died in 1926, the ongoing construction has been incredibly hard as the most designs and models he left were destroyed during the Civil War in 1936.

I can't find exactly how big it is right now, but when finished it will have 18 nearly 400 ft towers. 12 to represent the Apostles, 4 for the Evangelists, one for the Virgin Mary and the largest tower at 558ft representing Jesus Christ. It will be able to accomodate 13,000 people.

The scale is just mind boggling, the detail and design out of this world.

It's almost enough to get me religious!

Parenting Teens - should you let them drink alcohol?

2010-08-07T20:34:00.002+10:00

So it's another Saturday night and teens everywhere around the place will be drinking alcohol...at 13, 14, 17 years old. Some with their parents blessing, some not.

But they will do it anyway won't they? We all have stories to tell - "my parents wouldn't allow it, but I did it anyway" or "my parents let us have a drink at home and I didn't abuse the privilege".

If you don't want your teen (or future teen) to drink, you have to really ask yourself why that is. You also have to plan for the fact you may not have the same close relationship with your child that you envision you will. It cracks me up laughing when I hear some parents say "oh we are going to sit down and talk about it". Bwhaahahahaha! What makes you think they are going to listen to you if/when they are full of teen arrogance and the 'rage against the machine attitude' that came out of nowhere.

My daughter turned 18 years old last month (the legal drinking age in Oz), and I can tell you that I fought, kicked and screamed that she did not drink alcohol before then. It was a massive bone of contention between Teen Queen and I, but I held fast. I know that she certainly did drink before then......but I still won the fight AND the battle.

I didn't want her to drink for several reasons. The effects alcohol has on a developing brain. The fact that teens engage in risk taking behaviour already, the fact that the liver cannot metabolise alcohol during these years....all the boring stuff.
The other reasons - is because she is more likely to do things she will regret, that through alcohol her danger radar will fuzz, and the fact that boys/men WILL try to take advantage of her sexually if she is drunk or even tipsy.

So I told Teen Queen all of these things. I told her she did not have my blessing to drink alcohol before she turned 18, and that when the time was right I would TEACH her how to drink. Huh?

Well from the age of about 15/16 I did let her have a sip of my drink. ONE SIP - why? So she could learn to identify the contents. She was surprised how tasteless Vodka can sometimes be. I told her stories from my years behind the bar, how one night 2 men came in with 2 very naive looking girls. About how these 'men' ordered double vodka and orange drinks for the ladies and beer for themselves. I also told her how I only put half-shots in those drinks, charged them the full amount and (put the difference in the tip jar) watched with glee when they got ridiculously drunk whilst these very sweet looking girls looked on in disgust.

At the first party Teen Queen was invited where alcohol would be served (a girls 15th!), I refused to let her stay overnight. I picked her up at 12 o'clock and spoke to the mother, told her that my daughter was not permitted to drink and that I expected her to respect my wishes. Which she did.

As much as Teen Queen hated me then, I didn't care. I was too busy being shocked that parents I had known since our kids were at primary school (and thought had half a brain) were dropping their 14 year old daughters off at this same party with a 4 pack of alcopops!

Bloody hell, we both learnt something that night.

I learnt that 'supervised party' can actually mean 'I will be in the general vicinity whilst several teenagers get so drunk they throw up and be too busy/drunk myself that I won't notice my own child is so drunk she is in her bedroom with several boys'.

Teen Queen was actually quite happy to be picked up....the party was practically over by 10pm, everyone there was drunk and stupid. She was a bit shocked at the behaviour of the friends she had known for years. "Thomas is such a sweetie mum, but you should have SEEN him.....Annie was just out of it on the floor and didn't even care they lifted up her skirt.....I thought Marcus was nice but he was just awful, and Tahlias uncle was there and he tried to kiss me yuuuuuk!"

She saw it all through clear eyes, just like I wanted her to.

To be continued...

The WINNER of the competition that never was...

2010-08-06T20:40:00.006+10:00

So - there were some things I didn't tell you...

Yes I can make a mean body scrub....but I don't often make a face pack/scrub/mask because I believe so much in the power of clay. Yes clay. I am very time poor so to source a good yellow or kaolin (personal fave) is too much hard work for me, so I don't mind buying prepacked stuff. A face mask will give you a deep, gentle clean. It will remove old dead skin cells, draw out impurities and leave you with a lovely glow. Anything that contains zinc is brilliant for healing topically.

All my fave face masks/scrubs come from The Body Shop because so many contain those magic ingredients of clay and zinc....but I have found something even more awesome.

If you remember recently I had a wonderful massage in a town that brings me peace (read about it HERE). It is here that I found this lovely yellow clay face mask.

I applied it the evening I had my massage (gotta complete the experience) and was so thrilled with the results that I decided I really must share.

It comes in powder form, you mix one teaspoon with water to make a paste, apply to your face - drink champagne and eat chocolate for 30 minutes, rinse off and WHAMMO, fresh, smooth vibrant skin underneath.

So back to the competition that never was. I posted some body scrub recipes and thought to myself that I will send some of this magic powder to the first person that makes a comment.

And that person was SARAH from Just Me, and since she already mentioned she has sensitive skin I will be sending Miss Sarah a blend that will make her face/day..whatever.

In the next week I will be heading back up to the hills and will pick up more supplies so next time I do a comp I will actually tell people about it...

Leafblower dude - you blow

2010-08-05T06:25:00.001+10:00

Firstly I have to credit Andrea at Revealing The Real Me for this episode.

I found myself responding to her post...but it got so long it was embarrassing so I backpedaled and thought it would be better to post it here rather than taking up her comment space with my rantings.

So - powertools on the weekend don't bother me. Either it spurs me on to get Up And At 'Em or I re-roll back into my doona and smirk at all the busy suckers in the world.

Sadly across the road from my old house lived a retired man. With a leafblower.

Every second day for at least an hour this silly bored fucker would have that leaf blower going at full pelt. These things don't have the low grunty sound of the chainsaw or the lawnmower. They have this horrible high pitched weeeeeeeeeee thing going like an outdoor vacuum cleaner, and it makes me want to hurt people. It took me ages to figure it out what it was because he does most of his blowing in his backyard and I couldn't work out the source of the head-splitting noise for ages.

By my calculations - since stupidhead neighbour has this thing going so often that on average he will be blowing away about 9 leaves per day. Heard of a RAKE???? Or do you have arborphobia?

I've even seen the silly old bugger running around on his roof, blowing 5 whole leaves out of his gutters. Before winter has even begun. I can't tell you how freakin pleased I am that I moved before all the leaves dropped because I couldn't go through listening to the shrill racket every day for two whole months.

Without a doubt I would have ended up rigging up a potato cannon in order to knock the bastard off the roof, hopefully landing on the infernal machine breaking it into 8 billion pieces.

this is a potato cannon,
thanks to Ants World for the pic.

Anyhoo, I headed off to the old place to get some work done and borrowed Aquamans dirty great big leaf SUCKER. It's like the leaf blowers crazy biker big brother and I luuurrve wielding that thing. He never lets me use it usually so I couldn't wait to get it going. Of course I made sure I started it in the driveway so the neighbour could see and then treated him to hours of the joyous sounds of PROPER POWER TOOLS.

I know it gave him the shits because I saw him peeking out from behind his curtains, and stupid as my glee in powertool one upmanship (upwomanship?) is it made clearing up my monstrous garden in the freezing cold just a little easier....

Betty Boo goes AWOL

2010-08-03T16:47:00.000+10:00

I finally sorted out my last few months of digital photos. Loaded them onto my laptop, categorised and named all folders. Yay and Woo Hoo for me.

I came across a random pic I must have loaded about 2 years ago. Betty Boo, beautiful child must have been about 2 years old and it brought back this memory I want to write down.

I was preparing to go back to work full time. The children were booked into daycare and I was busy making extra meals to freeze. I had sorted all the clothes, bought the little ones new back packs to take spare clothes and drink bottles and organised for Teen Queen to pick them up on the days I would be home late.

All was quiet. Too quiet - y'all know what I mean.

I popped my head into the lounge room and noted Cyclone was mesmerised by the television. Check. I found Teen Queen in her room writing angsty poetry by candlelight. Check.

Where was little Betty Boo? I looked in her bedroom. No. Not in Cyclones room. I raced to my bedroom - not there pillaging my clothes or makeup. Not in the backyard or front garden. All gates are firmly secure to guard the escape of the dogs/kids. Not in the toilet, bathroom...or anywhere.

I am just about to freak when I tell myself top stay calm and recheck.

And I found her.

Can you see?

She is under her new Hi 5 backpack. When I did the first headcount I just didn't see her there, curled up asleep under the bag that was nearly as big as she was. You can see Cyclone's back in the shot - still sucked in by the telly.

Tiny little baby girl. So excited about being a big girl with her own bag.

*sigh

WHY I'm so feckin tired.

2010-08-01T13:26:00.009+10:00

I kinda forget to mention that I am now at work full time again. In fact I have taken on 2 new roles.

One as a teacher 4 days a week, and another 5 days a week as Personal Assistant to a high maintenance, egocentric young man. Otherwise known as my son Cyclone.

Yep, if you read my other blog HERE, you'll know the drill but in short I am now homeschooling Cyclone, and fighting my way through the raft of paperwork, phone calls, interviews, discussions, appointments with Occupational Therapists and Neurological experts.

Betty Boo now goes to daycare 2 days a week and kinder for the other 2. The poor kid needs something to herself - for the last few months (lets face it, longer than that) it's all been about Cyclone and the race against time to get his Autism funding. She has patiently sat next to me colouring in whilst I tap away on the laptop and take multiple phone calls and although I feel terrible about it, hopefully I'm clearing the way for more time with the Betty.

She is such a little mummas girl, and being my last baby I've always thought of her as my little dress up dolly. That I can't play with very often *sigh.

It looks like the worst parts are over now and if I get everything right, Cyclone will be back at school next term giving me more time. I've decided to hold her back from starting school next year too. She will begin at the age of 4 if I start her next year, I'm sure she will be fine if she did start - but this last year or so have been such a mess and horribly unfair for her. I think she will benefit greatly from another year at home and some time with her mummy, who looks forward to entire days playing whatever games she wants me to.

I think yet therefore I DON'T

2010-07-31T16:07:00.005+10:00

You know, I get though the week thinking 'if these bloody children would stop screaming/acting up/drawing on walls I could get this/this/this and that done in peace'.

If Betty Boo would stop fighting with me at bedtime (yes - she is fighting with me, I am Zen, I am Mary Poppins at bedtime, I endure hours of bullshit from her with a smile plastered on my face and NEVER give in to the crap until she sleeps. Non-violent resistance at its best, with alcohol as my main support) I could actually write a blog post every night like I promised I would.

So what happens when I actually DON'T have the kids around? Do I do all the things I wish I could? NO.

I usually wander around the house with a stupid look on my face for awhile. Then I sit and try to read a book/hit the laptop/clean my room. Everything gets done far more quickly that I think and I'm stuffed for the rest of the day and night. It's not so bad if I know the kids will be off with Scorpio for a couple of days because I hit the ground running. All fiddly bits are done quickly and I can plan something - even if it is to FINALLY watch the last of The Lord of the Rings.

It's worse in winter because I just don't want to do anything but if I stuff around doing nothing at home all day I feel it's time wasted. In summer it's not really a problem - I go visit friends, or have them over for drinks, or go out and dance my pants off, knowing a I have full day to recover from all the kid-free shenanigans.

A couple of times lately, I have returned home from dropping off the children to literally fall on the couch and sleep for HOURS. This frightens me a little bit when I realise how tired I must have been. And how on earth I can possibly function like that on an ongoing basis. It sucks balls when I wake and need even more sleep. No, really NEED even more. Then I go into the whole 'wasted day' thing again.

I am finding a balance though - very slowly, and I know when spring and summer return my energy will too. I allow myself the time to rest, but only after I have done a few key things so I can prevent the banshee in my head from screaming too loudly, so I can really enjoy some solitude and self-care and stay in that moment.

Cos if the Mumma ain't happy - aint noooooo one happy.

Family Xmas report....and a great big tangent.

2010-07-28T21:20:00.004+10:00

As usual it was fantastic.

Cept for the fact my sisters girlfriend had an unfortunate incident at work where her safety rope snapped (WHOA) and she came off her trapeze and broke her wrist. Bugger. There is always one or two that can't make it.....

We were at a Bush Camp in North Victoria and BOY were things different 6 years from the last time we were there. First point - about 8 million housing estates had sprung up. We were in the middle of nowhere last time!

Second point - last time we were there it was December and therefore SUMMER. I have pictures of Teen Queen sitting in the blow up pool with 6 month old Cyclone and boy it was hot. This time it was FREEEEEEZING!

Although we fired up the huge wood heater the moment we got there it still took ages to warm up, but good food and music helped us get toasty.

Although I have several awesome pics of my family gathered around Kaz and her guitar heartily singing clothed in 15 layers and clutching glasses, I realised I shouldn't really publish them it might bugger up whatever professional standing my relatives hold.....like at rather salubrious educational institutions around the state so you will have to make do with this pic and use your imaginations....

After all the little 'uns had gone to bed, the guitar came out quick smart and after we got the Creedence Clearwater Revival and the Dylan songs out of the way Uncle G started a rousing rendition of "Bound for South Australia".

Isn't it amazing how you realise you remember the words of songs you haven't sung for years?

"Heave away you rulent kings, heave away, haul away. Heave away you'll hear me sing - bound for South Australia"

Now those are the words I was taught and the only words I know. "Bound for South Australia" is a famous sea shanty used by the wheat and wool traders that worked the clipper ships between Australia and London. It's such a great song to sing that I was going to post the lyrics or even a Utube by The Pogues so you could all get rocking yourselves...

but now I'm pissed off because the words are all different from the ones I know. It used to be about Rulent Kings and leaving your wife and child behind and making do with a bottle of whiskey....but all I could find was versions going on about rolling kings and meeting Miss Nancy bloody Blair.

What happened to the lyrics I was taught at school over ABC Radio National??? HUH??

Now I don't usually spruik for comments - but I'd really like to know.

1) Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?
2) Do you know what happened to the lyrics?

Yummy skin for winter

2010-07-25T08:11:00.001+10:00

So we have spent the last few weeks wearing layers and rugged up against the cold, curled up in front of the heater and blasting our electric blankets as high as they can go.

Therefore it's time for a good body scrub to get rid of all the (eewwww) layers of dead skin building up.

Here are a couple of very EASY and basic body scrubs -

Easy 1
Favourite moisturiser + a handful of salt OR sugar. Yep that's it. I prefer salt myself. Mix in a small bowl so it's a bit runnier than a paste.

Easy 2
Salt or sugar + Extra Virgin Olive Oil (or avocado, almond, even a massage oil). Add a drop or two of lavender if you like.

Green Tea
For something a little more refreshing use half a cup of sugar, a teaspoon (or bag) of green tea leaves, add your oil of choice and stir together.

Oat Scrub
Half a cup of Quick Oats (if you only have rolled oats or oatmeal you should whizz them in a blender first.
Half a cup of sugar, mix it up with your oil of choice.

I put my hair up, jump into the shower (and therefore always use plastic containers to mix the scrubs!) wet myself down then scrub in a circular motion. Don't go too hard - let the exfoliant do the work.

I start with my boobs, then tummy and legs, then arms/shoulders of course paying attention to knees, elbows and heels. Get someone to do your back for you. Heaven.

Rinse yourself off, pat dry and you will feel like a million dollars.

Now - like I said these are basic scrubs. All you need is an exfoliant and a moisture base.

Exfoliants - Ground Oats/Oatmeal. Salt. Sugar - white/caster, brown sugar is lovely and not as rough.

Moisture Base - any type of oil. Plain Olive Oil can be a bit heavy (and smelly), so I use the extra virgin. I just love olive oil for everything.

Extras - green tea leaves, your fave essential oil, honey, bi-carb soda - oh just chuck a bit of that in anyway, it's great stuff too.

I only ever make enough for one use. You probably could make a big jarful and store it but there could be an issue with spoilage, unless you have a mainly salt base.

So go ahead and have fun, make up your own personal blend with all your favourites or just do the most basic for a very quick, yet very effective skin pick-me-up.

Yes you can use them on your face. Just go very gently ok?

Onion Syrup for coughs

2010-07-24T15:23:00.002+10:00

Don't panic people. It's not as bad as it sounds, it's cheap, easy and IT WORKS.

I don't believe in most cough medicines because they just don't work AND even though they don't work they have horrible things in them that you can't ingest if you are under two or pregnant. Which sucks.

So it's winter and I probably should have posted this before but sometimes I forget I don't have ESP.

You need -

An onion or two
Honey (Manuka is good but any will do)
2 jars with wide necks.
A knife and a chopping board.

Slice the onion thinly.
Wash the jars thoroughly. Dribble a couple of teaspoons of honey in the bottom.
Layer about 2 cms of sliced onion, then a layer of honey.
Repeat till you are out of onions, squashing down the layers as best you can.
Put in the fridge overnight or for a good few hours.

Strain off the liquid, or just tip the liquid from one jar to another - whatever. Leave the onions behind.

Take a teaspoon full whenever you need - safe for children and preggos.

The astringent qualities of the onion will infuse into the honey and you will barely taste the onion at all. It reduces the frequency of the cough and is great for chest infections.

Onions are awesome for everything by the way...

I said I would and I AM!

2010-07-21T22:13:00.002+10:00

I told you I was going to write every single day for a month.

I haven't missed a day, I've been posting over here at Lulu & The Cyclone.

Things have been busy in Cyclone word. He is still cool as shit though....

Spoilage

2010-07-19T21:45:00.006+10:00

So I lashed out this weekend and took myself off for a massage.

In Warburton, one of the prettiest (if not THE prettiest) towns in Victoria. I love this place, it's only 90 minutes away in the hills and just being there makes me feel calmer. Summer is just as lovely and the river is a perfect place to cool off but sometimes a little scary on a hot windy day. It was sheer luck and a change of wind direction that spared Warburton from tragedy on Black Saturday.

I walked into the Wellbeing Centre strung higher than a racehorse, and walked out after an hour with Manfred floating an inch off the floor. $65 for an hour of heaven - well half an hour really - I should have warned Manfred he would need a meat tenderiser to get my shoulders down from around my ears before he could get me into a workable state.
Truly, my voice was about 3 octaves lower and the static in my head was down 95%. I rugged up and spent nearly an hour wandering down the main street and fossicking in the shops.

Some handmade soap and 2 second-hand books later I headed home for a bath and a facial.

Total bliss, highly recommended.

Vehicle detective....

2010-07-18T15:26:00.004+10:00

I have been rather perplexed for awhile now. I have a car for sale and no one wants to buy it.

It's in near perfect condition, full service history, low mileage and all the bells and whistles you could want. But no one wants. It has been weeks and weeks and no word.

With everything going on in my life right now, I am just unable to take enquiries and deal with tyre kickers each weekend so my dear mechanic and friend Kiwi Mick told me he would handle it all for me. He sells cars alot and crap on Ebay all the time so it wasn't too much of a stress for him.

I gave the car a quick once over with the vacuum, a tearful goodbye ( I don't want to get rid of it, but who really needs 2 cars?) and told Kiwi Mick I would arrange for a detailer to do a proper job. Ah, no don't worry says Mick - I'll sort it out.

I breathe a sigh of relief and feel thankful for friends.

So weeks have gone by without a sale and since I am going away for the weekend I decide I'll take it out for a nice big drive. Mick and I have a quick chat and a mutual headshake about the lack of buyers - I load it up with bags, seats, sleeping bags kids and dog.

After a few kilometers down the highway and I think I'm onto something. It might be a clue...or two.

The windows are dirty there are marks everywhere and when you turn on the heater it REEKS OF CIGARETTES. Not just cigarettes, but butts soaked in beer and left out in the sun for a week.

Do you think I'm onto something? Should I resign from my job as Kid Wrangler and become a detective?

Yours in pissed offed-ness,

Lulu

Merry Xmas!!!

2010-07-18T08:11:00.000+10:00

It's that time of year again for my family, and I can't wait to see everyone again!

When I was little, every second year in December we would pack the car and head to country Victoria where my cousins lived. The other years they would come to Melbourne to celebrate Christmas together.

We would all jam into the one house and spend the days swimming, running about, opening presents and eating ourselves silly. At night the kids would find a space on the floor, unroll the sleeping bags and tell spooky stories all night.

The adults would sit around the big table joking and telling stories all night too. It was wonderful going to sleep with raucous laughter in your ears.

As the years have gone by, the already huge family has expanded and we can't possibly fit in the one place, so we started hiring out school camp style venues. Quite a few of my uncles/aunts/cousins are teachers so we have access to lots of places across the state.

One year we stayed at a Hospitality Tradeschool - most of the students had left for the holidays so we moved into the dormitories and had the working restaurant all to ourselves. It was great not having to worry about feeding the masses but we drunk the cellar out of red wine the first night we were there.....and they doubled the prices 2 years later.

After a few years of missing family members that couldn't get time off in December, we changed it to July and that's far easier. We stopped doing presents now but we will do a big swap of kids clothes and toys. There is a rocking duck (as opposed to horse) that was bought for me when I was 2 - it has gone through every single family and is about to be passed around the circle again as the cousins have children of their own. It's 35 years old, and still loved by everyone.

I can't wait to present my cousin with a beautiful dress bought in England by her mother 20 years ago. It was worn by both my girls and now it's time to pass it on again.

I LUUURVE Xmas in July, I lluuuurve my family and I can't wait to cuddle the newest members, freak out at how tall the boys are getting and sing karaoke with them till the early hours...

Cheers

Dear Everyone....

2010-07-17T07:19:00.000+10:00

Dear Batchelor,

I understand you are a tidy man and I appreciate that. I hope you can appreciate that I am tidy too, but take a little longer get around to things as I am often negotiating peace deal #267, taking multiple phone calls and dressing errant children.
Yes I have noticed you have a 'thing' about getting rid of paper after I found you throwing out some of my notes and mail. Making me think I am going crazy is one thing, but throwing out a PRISTINE stack of unread weekend newspapers is just going too far.

Dear Cyclone,

I know things have changed around here lately but I was wondering if you could try to get out of the right side of bed in the morning? Barking orders at me and ranting at the lack of Nutri Grain in the house before I am fully awake is a crappy way to start the day.
Also - are you aware it's not actually compulsory to push your sister over when she walks past you?

Dear Betty Boo,

I know your brother is horrible to you when he is in a bad place, but I wish you would stop the head splitting screams. I have thought about it at length and have decided it is preferable to hear you call him a fricken idiot under your breath than have my ears bleed by 8.30am every morning.

Yours Truly

Lulu, Mummy

Very Bad Things Part 6

2010-07-16T08:16:00.000+10:00

I left the bloody dog in the car - AGAIN.

No no not in the searing heat - it's freeeeeeezing here. No, not at the shopping centre, and not at the pub whilst I spend all the food money on the poker machines.

In the driveway.

Bloody mutt cries at the door as soon as she hears me pick up the keys. If I'm doing a school/kinder run I always take her. If I am heading to the local shop I take her too because she is like a kid that always wants to go for an adventure.

Most times I let her sit in the front seat (cos she is a bit of a princess), but in winter the shaggy dog can get quite soggy so I put her in the back of the station wagon and since she fell asleep on the 10 minute trip to the post office I completely forgot about her.

So 4 hours after I got home, The Batchelor rocks in the door asking if I have forgotten anything - then promptly releases an overexcited bundle off fluff down the hall and onto my face. He drove in the driveway and saw a little face in the back of the car.

Lots of lickage. Then she ran to the backyard to wee.

Anyhoo - I have resolved to only let my poochy princess in the FRONT seat of the car from now, and only in the very back when on holidays - cos I have to unpack at some point and will surely remember she is there even if she is asleep.

Finding a new groove

2010-07-15T06:39:00.000+10:00

Ok, so I am going to get my backside into gear. I've dropped off on the posting a fair bit and I need to get my groove back.

I used to love Friday nights because Scorpio would arrive at my place which meant I could knock off the parenting responsibilities immediately (except for screaming orders at him from the lounge room) pour myself a drinky poo and dribble out all the ridiculousness life had brought me for the week.

Things are MENTAL around here lately, I've lost my Friday night off and I'm finding it hard to blawg. So I figure if I FORCE myself to write it might help. See because I have stopped dribbling regularly, the thoughts are backing up....since lately this is my ONLY outlet it's gonna get ugly.

I might start telling random strangers my life story. I might start telling the telemarketers Ways To Improve Their Selling Technique, or worse still I might join the Kindergarten Committee - NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I just want my groove back.....maaaaaan.

For the love of The Hat

2010-07-12T20:38:00.007+10:00

I love hats.

I have several but I've lost more than I possess but right now I'm travelling just fine with one pink and one black knitted cap. Toasty.

My first fave was my black Greek Fisherman Hat and it was worn to death, I've gone through a pink cowboy hat phase before I switched to white.

I have a couple of these little numbers in storage somewhere

My brother gave me an Afghanistan Freedom Fighter hat for my 21st, but I didn't wear that around much - it was waaay hot.

I love straw hats, I especially love great big floppy black ones for summer.

I have plenty of gardening hats - that's where my glam summer hats go to retire when they have been sat on or drowned in the pool once too often.

For the life of me I can't understand why more people aren't wearing hats.

It's FREEZING. You lose all that heat off your head AND fashion opportunities AND ways to cover your cold, limp hair.

I have some lovely brass hooks I am going to drill into the walls at my new house (when no one is looking) - no home is complete without somewhere to hang your hat.

Cheers

The Fallout

2010-07-09T00:00:00.005+10:00

HA - seriously, did you think I was going to get in trouble for unauthorised flogging of Batchelors bank account??

OF COURSE NOT.

Like I said, he knew what he was doing by giving me access to his bank account. He's a growned up man.

Also, we have known each other for 10+ years and in that time I have often been his Claytons Wife. I am his date to various work functions and weddings.

And I require a new dress and glammo shoes every so often if I am to carry out my Claytons Wifely duties so it's not like it's a new concept. If I do say so myself I'm a damn fine pretend wife.

I don't care if he doesn't get up and dance with me at weddings, if he actually does get up and boogie I think it's funny when he makes a fool of himself. Or dances with everyone else's wives.
I think it's hysterical when he drinks too much and gets loud. I never tell him when he's 'had enough' because I don't care....I don't have to deal with him at home *snigger.

I can tell off his boss for being a dork or overworking him at business functions and they think I'M funny because I'm not his wife.

So this whole thing works pretty well - being a pretend wife is waaaay easier than a real one and I'm pretty full on the husband quota already *snort

Very Bad Things Part 5

2010-07-06T22:20:00.000+10:00

Oh I am ROTTEN, I really am.

Last week The Bachelor asked me to do an errand for him. I am happy to help him like that because I like living in his house. He gave me his keycard.

I had several things on the list, but when I got to the shopping centre I completely forgot what they were.

There are so many huge sales on.....you know where this is going right?

Yeah, I gave his card a flogging. Well, it was only a medium sized flogging -ok?

I bought 2 skirts, 3 tops and a new hat and quite frankly it's all his fault.

WHY? Because he gave me his key card.

He KNOWS me, he knows what I'm like and also knows I haven't bought myself any new clothes since the last Ice Age.

He also told me a few weeks ago that he got a huge amount back from his tax.

He knows I have an important party to go to.

So as you can see, The Batchelor asked me...NO, begged me to run amok at his expense.

When I came out of my spell, and looked down at all the bags in my hand I dropped my high just a little. I felt slightly bad and I tried my best to remember what I was really supposed to be doing. For the life of me I could not remember what he wanted me to do for him.

So I bought him some socks.

The End.

Gushy Love Letter....

2010-07-04T08:38:00.000+10:00

Ach - I can't help it. I gotta blurt it out.

Super mummies I LOVE YOU.

I knew I loved you before I knew you. I found your blogs and you made me laugh, I followed you, read you and felt something in common with you - even if I couldn't put a finger on it.

Then I noticed. You are the mothers of the Spectrum children. You live, love and sometimes fall down just like everybody else...but you do it, describe it and pull yourselves back up with a grin like no one else.

*grin - I know you get that.

So thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the insight. I rarely ask questions in the comments section but when I do you always respond and are happy to share whatever you can with me.

And if you lot haven't gone nuts yet - I know I won't anytime soon. Or will I?

Cheers

An Unholy Obsession

2010-07-03T08:34:00.001+10:00

Okay, so I love Brie. It always scared me as a child, probably because it all seemed so grown up. And smelly. I only started eating Brie about 5 years ago, because it was on the long list of Foods You May Not Eat Whilst You Are Pregnant. So basically, even though it never interested me before, I decided I wanted it purely because I couldn't have it.

Now whilst I was breastfeeding I lost a frightening amount of weight. I'm fairly small anyway but when I look back at the photos during that time (in which I look like a strung out meth head) I can understand why everyone was urging me to eat.

So I ate lotsa Brie and chocolate. Pooooor, pooooor me. Then I stopped feeding Betty and my ability to evaporate billions of calories through milk production alone ceased and the Brie has now become a treat. Cos I eat an entire wheel to myself and it's best I only consume it once a month. Restraint ain't my thing either....

Now it's reached a scary peak of obsession. I have noticed I have started Brie Rituals.

Put Brie on the plate as soon as the children are in bed. Correct temperature is important.
Do ALL the housework. I cannot eat The Brie in a messy environment.

To truly deserve The Brie I must also prepare for the next day - ie putting the childrens clothes out ready for the morning. I don't usually do this.

Now I have an open fireplace I start a fire and settle in.

BUT tonight, when The Batchelor brought me some Brie unexpectedly AND laid it all out ready with bikkies I decided I must shower before I eat The Brie.

Next month I will probably add a Brie Dedication and wear a special Brie headdress for The Consumption Ceremony.

Ch Ch Ch Changes

2010-07-01T20:06:00.001+10:00

I've been doing this for less than a year now. I started this after a friend of mine suggested I put it in writing instead of blowing her ear off every afternoon. I really enjoy blogging and in the beginning I wasn't sure what I wanted out of this.

I know what I don't want. I don't want to network, it's too much work for someone that just wants to write and try to get better at it.

I don't want sponsorship, I don't think this site will change the world.

I'm not writing "CEO inspired brilliance" or trying to "turn personal stories into universal lessons". I'll leave that shit to Dancing With The Stars or Masterchef....oh unless you count my story about why you SHOULDN'T teach your kids to call 000. Uni-fucking-versal lesson that one.

For fear of offending the shit out of everyone....sometimes the blog world feels a little like Facebook. Collecting friends, whining when someone ceases to follow. I've had someone cheerily comment on a post of mine but ran screaming back to their own blog about how offended they were at the content. Bluuergh. Can't be fucked.

I'm decluttering. I'm changing over to following some blogs by RSS because I have too many and keep missing things and feel like I can't keep up.

I suppose I just want to let everyone know I'm 'dropping out'. There's things about the blog world that ain't my style and I'm not dissing it or anyone but I just don't want to play is all.

But I will confess I fucking HATE Post It Note Tuesday, it's my one day of the week I can catch up my reading and I'm confronted by walls of fucking post it notes AAaggghhh!

Worlds Tidiest Man?

2010-06-28T21:47:00.001+10:00

So this housesharing this is going pretty well. It's like I have a wife. I've always wanted a wife.

The bachelor is so tidy it's frightening. I've always known how tidy he is, because his house never has a thing out of place - I've just never seen it in action. The man never stops. He strides from one end of the house to the other in big long steps with his arms constantly moving. Picking things up and putting them away.

Or straightening things that do not look out of place - to me anyway.

It is pretty good but it does have it's drawbacks. He isn't the type that picks up your glass before you have finished with it (oh how I hate that), and you never feel uncomfortable about being messy because you are sitting on the couch BUT

I like to sit outside with a cup of tea on a Saturday morning with a few recipe books and choose what I am going to make for the weekend. I wash the dishes and prep the kitchen and I can't find the book. I spend all day looking for it. The bachelor had put in in some feckin drawer somewhere. I flick his ear. I left it for 5 minutes!

I'm baking in the kitchen, reach for the butter and it's gone. WTF? The Bachelor has whooshed through and put it away. He does it again later with the milk and I flick his ear again. Then tell him to get the fuck outta my kitchen. Seriously- he ghosts around at the doorway wringing his hands and shifting from foot to foot. SHEESH! I'm actually a gun clean-as-i-go-er when I'm cooking but I'm not doing it fast enough for Mr OCD.

I ended up going outside and messing up the outdoor furniture and throwing a few newspapers out on the grass to distract him for awhile.

This has been going on all week. If I leave something alone or not nailed down whilst I answer the phone, chase the children, feed the cat, put on washing - IT DISAPPEARS.

I found myself clutching my diary whilst sitting on the toilet the other day.

We are finding a happy place though. He is a surface cleaner and I am a dust freak. I like folding and he likes putting away. I like cooking and he likes dishes. He hates food shopping but likes the light on when he comes home late.

YEAAAhh BOI!

Parenting......separately

2010-06-20T22:03:00.000+10:00

So I can squeeze 8 pound babies out of my vagina, survive on little to no sleep for 3 years and find matching socks every morning. Parenting with Scorpio has been alot harder than all three.

But we do it. We fought through it and continue to fight to this day.

To be honest my main issue was the McDonalds drop offs on a Sunday. I know 8 million people that do it - swap the kids over, neutral territory, public place yadda yadda yadda. I can think of nothing more uncomfortable and I'M NEVER GONNA DO THAT.

We do it because once we were like this.

Eagerly anticipating the birth of our son. Couldn't quite believe how lucky we were and that 10 years after we first met this was actually happening.

And yeah, the wheels fell off in the end and a little girl had also arrived by the time we crashed - there were ups and downs but you can't say it wasn't FUN.

As time went on we could see we were awesome parents, just not in the same room. After the early blurry years of a screaming unsettled baby, it became apparent we actually weren't suited at all. Even though the last year was hard, I'm glad we pushed through.

Cyclone was so high maintenance he taught us to be a stronger team, he forced us to respect each other and be grateful for each others presence during the long hours of screaming, the tanties and meltdowns. We could see even though we were opposites it could still benefit the children, make them more 'rounded'.

I have endless patience for some things, Scorpio has endless patience in others. No one loves those kids like we do, and even though we may have screaming fights, hang up on each other and call each other horrible names (I've invented a few new ones I think) I can still phone him at all hours crying with exhaustion and worry and he will listen and share the burden. That's whats going to get us through the next 20 years or so, I'm sure.

And I just KNOW you love my birth outfit. I even had a matching pink cashmere hoodie but it wasn't in the shot.

Shamwow man returns!!!

2010-06-17T01:21:00.004+10:00

Well maybe it's old news, but I thought it was worth a revisit.

PLEASE read this old post of mine regarding the SHAMWOW

Now you have read that bit.....I saw our friend Vince Shamwow/Ace Ventura on late night telly the other night. Now he is selling some garlic choppery thing. Can't work how the thing can peel a garlic clove without chopping it but - who cares? It prompted me to have a looky to see what Vince baby was up to...yanno has he met anymore tongue biters?

I found the original police report on the original incident (for a moment there I really thought he had another oral episode) and FARK.

How hard did she bite his tongue? How hard did her belt her to release her grip?

WHO ACTUALLY WON????

I dunno - read HERE

pisser

Betty the Unsqueaky Wheel

2010-06-15T20:05:00.005+10:00

So many days I feel guilty for my dear Betty Boo. She is never really the centre of attention because I'm always dashing off one way or another to sort Cyclone, talk to a tradie/schoolteacher/sibling/teenager whilst she sits quietly drawing.
I do my best in the small amounts of time we have alone to do girly things together but I worry it's not enough.

Sometimes she is well and truly being sick of being in the background and she gives me hints by climbing onto the table during dinner to sing I'm A Little Teapot or can't go to sleep because "my face is green".

I always thought she was just a Zen child. She seems to take everything in her stride with an ethereal smile - I've finally realised this is a very deliberate act. She doesn't want to be the squeaky wheel getting all the attention, it's not conducive to getting up to no good. Or getting revenge and stuff.

Butter hands, butter feet, butter legs. She managed to do this when I was making bread rolls right across the bench from her. A whole stick of butter.

She isn't like other kids - having to wait till mummy is on the phone till they draw on the walls she can do it when I am right in front of her.

I should have known there would be more to the Zen act when she was only 18 months old. Cyclone used to torment her and she didn't seem to mind. Then one day as I was emptying the bin and I found one of Cyclones favorite toys. I would find them in there quite often. So she never did take it lying down, my Betty Boo would wait until no one was looking and calmly toddle to the bin and dispose of a toy train or two....

Non violent resistance at its best?

I LOVE the tree!

2010-06-14T15:35:00.005+10:00

Ach, I will miss the colours of my house!

Japanese Maples are such good value all year round, but bestest in Autumn/Winter.

I wanna take my trees with me! They were one of the many reasons I bought the house and also one of the reasons I spent alot of time on the roof clearing the gutters!
So I won't miss the raking and mulching, there is only so much one compost bin can take..

A gift from Cyclone and Betty Boo

The Year of the Lulu

2010-06-13T20:54:00.007+10:00

Yep, I've declared it. It's time to attend to meeeeeeeee!

So Teen Queen will always need me to tell her to put a coat on, Cyclone is always going to be cyclonic and Betty Boo will need constant hair detangling for the next....well forever.
I've kept the boat afloat for the past 2 years of bluuueergh and that meant I had to push some things waay down the list of priorities. Like me. So no more of that, it's boring as hell and I'm going to start getting boring too.

So I wandered into my fave little bookshop the other day and swore I would never neglect it again. Bought 2 books and read them in three days. I refuse to put my books back into boxes (I have built in shelves at my place so I can't bring them here) and I have cleared a space ready for new bookshelves (when I find the right ones) and ready to begin collecting again.

Happily the new house is within walking distance to a roller rink and I've been dying to get some wheels on again. I neeeed to get fitter and the only way this will happen is if fitness is a by-product of doing something I enjoy. So that rules out stinky gyms and lycra.
I know it's gonna hurt, and it's going to feel GREAT. I hope I don't break a bone.

AND I am restarting my business again. This is my true calling. After I finish fiddling with some technical stuff it's back with a vengeance.

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

I'M BAAAAACK!

2010-06-11T23:33:00.003+10:00

Howdy doodie laydie roonies!

So I'm in my new digs (who invented that saying and what the fuck does it mean anyway?) and I'm doing ok.

Oh shit on a stick it was a HARD MOVE. Then again aren't they all? Look, I am Queen of Time And Motion, I love to plan out and find the best "flow" and darn it I'm good at it. Not because I am some sort of time-space-continuum geek, I am just impatient AND lazy at the same time so I like to get maximum payoff for minimal effort.

So it's all planned out. Then dammit, Grandma can't take the kids off my hands for the only weekend I actually need her to (bless her cotton socks, she is a good Nanna), so I decide it would probably be better for Cyclone to see the whole dynamics of the move, it might help him to participate and pack things up.

Then dammit, the truck won't get here till the afternoon...then dammit it's not coming till the next day. Lucky I have a hangover (self pity drinking lol) and haven't taken everyones beds apart. Dammit - Cyclone was primed and ready for the truck to come and now he is bouncing off the walls because things have changed.

But we get though, I manage to set up the beds in the new house before the kids come, they are excited and have a tea party in every room. I get them to bed a little late but that's ok. Cyclone cries in the night "I wanna go home" and I cry because that's what I want too.

I realise with a BANG that I am sharing a house again. That my beautiful bed, enormous and wooden like Noahs Ark, won't fit in my room so I have a plain bed that reminds me of uni days. I cry cos I love that bed and have lost that simple pleasure on top of everything else.

But now a week has gone by. It's not so bad. Sharing a house stops me from being self-indulgent and I make sure everything is put away and has a place far more quickly than I would before, and I benefit from that.

There is still much work to do but I have written a list and separated it into days so I don't feel overwhelmed. I sit here in front of a roaring open fire, in the house of my friend, with the lappy on the couch, the phone by my side (taking calls from my buddies looking out for me this week) and not just realise - but feel how fucking rich I really am.

I gots me a new blawg

2010-06-05T10:22:00.003+10:00

Lulu and The Cyclone.

There is alot happening here in Cyclone Town. He deserves a blog of his own - the adventure has been a long and LOUD one, and I also need to track how things are going and look back on how we got here.

Anyhoo, if you have a child on the Spectrum you will already know what I'm on about, and if you have no clue about Autism/Aspergers or no idea what Sensory Integration Dysfunction is - have a look about and join the ummmm ....fun.

If you are relatively new to my rantings, please check out these past posts for a chuckle.Oh I love that kid.

Pearlers from The Cyclone

Cyclone and the Very Nice Policeman

ETA - links fixed now

Dragging my feet

2010-06-04T10:04:00.003+10:00

Yep, it's time to pack up my little home and mosey on. I'm so conflicted, in fact right now I should be busy making arrangements but I'm blogging instead.

I'm sad that it has come to this - I hate moving and swore I never would again. I found my perfectly unperfect house in a nice street, close to all the important things and I love it to death. A big private front yard, and great big backyard with a deck overlooking..... The thing I will miss most is my huge sunny lounge room with enormous windows running the entire length. Shady in summer and in autumn the most perfect picture of a million different shades - fire red, yellows and rusty browns as the leaves of the Japanese Maples turn and fall.

I'll even miss the god awful bathroom. I think that is what bothers me most - leaving it unfinished. I had so much to complete, designs I pored over and fussed with - now I will just whack in cheap new fittings in order to lease it out.

So it's just a piece of real estate, available for rent. I have to do it, it's the smartest thing and when I think about it in unemotional terms I do get a little bit excited.

I am lucky enough to have a trusty bachelor friend with a big ole house and an invitation to stay as long as we like. Best of all it's a finished house! I can't say it won't be more relaxing to sit in the lounge in front of the fire and NOT think of something else that needs to be done. It's toasty, warm and best of all - minimal rent!

The bachelor works long hours, isn't here much but he is happy there will be someone here, there will be home cooking and the porch light will be on when he does come home. I can get ahead again financially, will have time to restart my business and help Cyclone with his schooling......maybe even look at investing in more property in the next 12 months. WOOOO!

It has been worth the slog over the last 2 years. I guarded my investment like Cerberus (although moaning that I couldn't afford shiny things anymore), knowing it was the key to bigger and better things in the long run, loving that it was ALL MINE, I gots it all by myself. (I'm going on a bit about that but I know there are other single mummies reading this and I want to make a point that it can be done)

Oh lordy I have warned him about the noise factor of 2 children - repeatedly - but he says "that's what pubs are for, they sleep at night don't they?"

Ummm, yeah - after 15 rounds with Betty Boo, she does go to sleep. Eventually.

Anyway, I can't dilly dally anymore. I must go and throw out all the broken and useless toys before the kids get back from their grandparents....

I love dilly dally. I NEVER get a chance to use it.

GET OFF THE BLOG LU!!!!!

I am THE FROG

2010-06-03T18:48:00.001+10:00

This is my fave cartoon in the world. My dad has it in his office and it never fails to make me smile.

I am the frog right now. But the good news is I AM WINNING!

Working from home & surviving it

2010-05-25T19:39:00.007+10:00

I know lots of mumma's want to work from home. Of course you do.....BUT.....it's not as easy as you think it might be. It's incredibly hard to find something above board, there are plenty of shonky type ads but they will never come to anything.

The thought of working in your jarmies all day is good at first BUT it's very hard to be productive when you look like a schlep. It just is.

No matter what there will still need to be some sort of outside contact, be it face to face with clients or via the phone.
The children will still interrupt you no matter what. You will likely still need childcare at some level so can go meet with people or at least make a phone call without a "muuuummmmmeeeee" in the background.

You need huge amounts of discipline to really knuckle down, people drop in because they know you are there, you quickly load the dishwasher before you start, then it's time for lunch before you know it.

Reality pic. Betty trying to feed through my back and Cyclone pressing all the keys on the computer. Me looking a TREAT.

I used to get up after the 4am feed and get 2 hours of work done in the silence. Kids up around 7-8am. An hour or so of phone calls after lunch and my day would end. I also needed face to face time sans children - if you have a business at home client contact is just as important as the work you do...or you won't have any business. I can't tell you the amount of times I tried to sound professional during a call with a 2 year old Cyclone banging on the door whilst I hold it shut with my foot. I hid in the wardrobe a few times too. You still need childcare working from home!

However this was the face I presented to everyone. Yanno, making it look sooooo easy.
After awhile I got a little sick of being held up by the parent company as a mascot for 'how easy it is to work at home'. It wasn't easy. It sucked. Yes I made $$$, yes I worked hard but EASY it wasn't. I didn't feel it was fair to present like this without giving people the actual reality. You can't set people up like that. I had a few fallouts with a *insert swear here* from the parent company over this so she completely cut off my supply line.

Thus ending my business. The Bitch.

SCAAAAAREY!!!!

2010-05-25T10:48:00.004+10:00

Pic by Simon Frost

Scorpio again has outdone himself. He always has something interesting happen to him (and it usually involves the police somehow) but this one? Woooooooooo!

He came in late last night with a very weird look on his face. Pour me a drink and listen to this, I'm totally freaked out. Mmmmkay dear.

So he was driving back here, it was raining lightly. Out of nowhere a man appeared in the median strip and stepped straight into the path of the little white car ahead.

He watched in horror as the man flew up and over the little white car. Scorpio swerved but felt the impact on the side of the car as he hit the man as well. A sick making thud.
Scorpio stops, the white car has half run onto the pavement - both drivers and a passenger get out and look at each other in sheer horror. The man in white car keeps saying, "he came out of nowhere, he came out of nowhere!".

They can't find the man they hit.

They search everywhere in the rain. Another man who was behind Scorpio also stopped and brings out a huge torch. They call an ambulance and the police.

The police arrive and get the spotlights out. Nothing. Another squad car arrives, they search too. Still nothing. An older cop gathers everyone together - all 4 witness and takes their names. He takes a breath and says - you probably won't hear anything from us. This has happened before along this stretch of road. I don't know what you believe in, and I don't know what to tell you except this has happened before.

They check the cars. NO DAMAGE. The little white car hit him head on, Scorpio hit him right on the indicator area of my car. NO DAMAGE. Nothing.

This was an a main road through a suburban area. Scorpio can't stop talking about the horrible crunch and the noise - how he felt the impact.

He didn't sleep well last night, the whole episode kept playing over in his mind. He remembers the hoodie and trackpants the guy was wearing - the look of horror on the faces of the first driver and his wife......and the quiet realisation that came over everyone that was there. The other drivers, the police and the ambos.

ZOMG!!!!!!!

Plans out the window!

2010-05-24T11:03:00.004+10:00

Betty Boo had a restless night last night.

I had a full day of running around planned, and that included a meeting at the school at 12pm.

I hope I can get through this mess by then, I can't take her out looking like this!

I'm armed with detangler and 3 different combs.

I'm still here!

2010-05-21T16:12:00.005+10:00

I am. I'm just dodging a few bullets. I'd like to stay in the toasty warm and type wittiness all day, but sadly I am required to pull on the spandex and get all super-powery again.

Pass me the tequila!!!!!

Cool School Photos

2010-05-18T07:18:00.000+10:00

I can't wait to get Cyclones first school photos. Even more so because they are so cool.

I was thrilled to see the way they do the school photos - geeze they are expensive even in kinder.
I have been going through alot of old photos recently and found my stash of school pics of both Teen Queen and what really stood out - apart from my Yr12 photo wearing a Guns N Roses T-shirt and black jeans stoned out of my tree *cringe *giggle - was how "stiff" they are.

There are the few grins, a lot of vaguely uptight looks and really no one is having fun.

Not at Cyclones little school. They take the usual individual shots and the class ones. They also do friend and family groups and the kids can do whatever they want. No stiff poses and unsure smiles here! The kids are clowning around, arms around each other and true, happy smiles everywhere.
Also on offer is a full school pic. Every student and teacher and as many animals as they can round up on the day.

You should see the class shots - all the kids get into ridiculous poses and pull faces with their teacher right alongside them all.

Now THAT's the kind of class photo I want....

LIES! DAMN LIES!!!!

2010-05-17T06:36:00.000+10:00

Today was interesting. I got a phone call from Scorpio that word on the street was that my hairdresser (and friend) is having an affair with her brother in law and is also adopted.

This is funny because it's not true, but I thought I schlep on over to her place for a giggle. My hairdresser seems to attract nutters to her every so often so I thought I'd let her know she has a new one.

Yes we laughed, yes she was aware of the 'rumour' and by the way what's the deal with the hat Lulu?

"Ach JessTress, my hair has gone all greasy again so I'm not washing it for awhile to balance out the oils and stuff".

Dead silence.

"It's an urban myth isn't it?"

Yep.

DAMMIT!!!!!!

Happy Time!

2010-05-16T19:14:00.004+10:00

oh Yeah.

I've been given this award by E who likes Whining at the World, and for a change I am going to PING it back straight away instead of writing it down in my diary and leaving it there.

Here are 10 things that make me happy. Yeah, love my family, love my pets, love chocolate - that's a given.

1) Laughing - it's my favourite thing in the ENTIRE UNIVERSE
2) Sleeping children
3) Solitude
4) Bed
5) Tequila and Vodka Martinis
6) My friends
7) Turkey rolls with peanut butter, cheese and carrot
8) Learning new stuff
9) A great cut and colour
10) Long, hot baths

Now I tag

Growing Nelle
Lady of the Longhouse
Wanderlust
BM I don't care
So Now What
Time in the Jungle

I better go tell everyone, I never do when I tag them!
If you don't do these things, that's cool. I love the awards and memes, I'm just hopeless at keeping them going.

xoxoxo

Oil Slick

2010-05-15T19:11:00.001+10:00

Even Neils hair looks better than mine right now.

I'm not washing it for 2 weeks, if I can last the distance. I need to restore the oil/hair balance since I find myself having to wash it every day. Not good, especially now its long again.

I always have a 12 month hair plan, yes I do. I don't go around chopping it off or colouring it because I'm bored, cos that's how I get into trouble and end up with crapola fuzz instead of hair. I love dramatic change and often - don't get me wrong.

My hair grows so fast I don't mind going super short, or platinum blonde, then 8 different colours at once, then chocolate brown - ah you get the picture, I just have it planned out in advance and according to the seasons.

SHUDDUP - it's one of the few things I actually can control around here!

So lucky it's winter, I have hats and I look rather fetching with braids.

What a boring post.

Welcome to WTF?

2010-05-14T13:50:00.001+10:00

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

The Steward announces over the intercom - Welcome to Holland! 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. 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?

Oh thank goodness the plane is decending....I look out the window and see Somalia - NOOOO! The plane suddenly raises altitude again and I watch 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 and the food is just wretched.

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?????

Scorpio and The Aquaman.

2010-05-13T09:01:00.002+10:00

So as previously mentioned I have 2 ex-husbands. One I actually married in a church, the other I married by having his babies.

Yes I am great friends with both. Yes Scorpio and Aquaman think highly of each other and have talked shit over a beer or three on several occasions.

A few people in my life have met both. Many people in my life have only met one or the other. Nothing is funnier the moment when someone meets The Other One. They look at me funny.

Because these 2 boys are as different as night and day.

This is Scorpio.

Bad, nasty, irresponsible, inconsiderate. Dark, broody and INCORRIGIBLE. Anti-social, not afraid of anything, tells me horrible stories, makes me laugh. He thinks I am the Awesome Birthing Goddess and tells everyone he meets. Beats up assholes hurting women and rescues small dogs from hot cars (twice actually). Doesn't care if I go out with my friends or when I get home. No one on this planet makes me angrier than this man. No one on this planet can get me into bed faster.

This is The Aquaman.

Considerate, housetrained, capable, social and fun. Sporty, good at everything he does. Always flying in on his white charger (umm, ute/pickup) and pulling me out of a jam. Never a week went by without a bunch of flowers and dragging me somewhere interesting for the weekend. Calms me down just by being in the room. Makes me a little bit 1950's. Likes to know where I am and who I am with. Convinced I poop rose petals.

I've spent YEARS trying to work out a way to cut the best bits out of both of them so I can jam them back together as some sort of Ultimate Man. As much as they both have awesome points, both of them shit me to tears as well.
Actually looking back on this situation I'm just not sure if I'm commitment phobic or not. Meh.

Sigh. It sucks being a Gemini sometimes.

Using references from Buffy the Vampire Slayer would of course mean this is me

I can live with that image....

So I'm a lot bit TICKLISH

2010-05-11T15:04:00.001+10:00

This is Sushee trying to straighten my patterned stockings.

It freaks me out if anyone touches my feet.

In fact the thought of someone touching my feet makes me squirm. People threatening to tickle my feet makes me hyperventilate and nearly wet my pants in fear.
I have resorted to warning people I won't be responsible for their hospital bills if they consider it.

But sometimes it's unavoidable. There was no way Sushee would let me go out with wonky stockings, so here are pictures of me doing my best to contain myself.

You just have to see it to believe it.

Catching Up

2010-05-11T08:12:00.002+10:00

This is me at the moment. I'm trying to catch up on Blogworld, I am!

I have so many things I've been tagged in, and a few lovelies that I want to acknowledge.

I'll get there.....

just have to renovate 2 bathrooms, buy a new stove, get a new water pump fitted in the car, get to dad's appointments, Cyclones appointments, meet with the school, meet with Pediatrician and measure up for new curtains and fix the gazebo

I'll get there, I mean it....

No fluffy slippers and an Ode To My Bed

2010-05-10T14:18:00.006+10:00

Oh joy. Mothers Day 2010. THE Perfect Day.

Sleep in. Wake to the sounds of Scorpio trying to keep the children away from the bedroom door.

Wake properly when he relents and the children pounce on me screaming HAPPY MUVVERS DAY!!!! Kisses and cuddles aplenty. Handmade gifts that make me cry

Breakfast in bed, lunch in bed, endless cups of tea in bed, United States of Tara in bed, Season 8 of Scrubs and Sunday papers IN BED.

The kids come in and out through the day and we eat Toblerone chocolate together. After lunch Scorpio took them out to play with their cousins so I had a shower, put on my new pajamas (my next favourite thing after bed is PJ's!). Shook the crumbs from the sheets, remade the bed and tidied the floor.

And got back into bed.

I even ate Pizza for dinner IN BED. Teen Queen made an appearance for that and also polished off the rest of the chocolate.

Which reminds me - no matter how much of a hardass I was to my Teen Queen, no matter how I embarrassed her by refusing to allow her to drink, picking her up from parties, not allowing her to stay over at boys houses (or anyone I didn't know), making her go to school and FORCING her to load the dishwasher, stand up straight and speak clearly, she still loves me.

Teen Queen actually went without and saved her pennies to buy her mumma some Bling

I got the time but the time don't pay

2010-05-04T18:10:00.004+10:00

Love that song - heard it yet? It totally rocks and it's my new soundtrack - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7G3h17i6xEM

But this post isn't about that - it's about why I cook.

Now I said from the start that this is never going to be a recipe blog and it's NOT. But I have from time to time posted a few of my own with my typical Unperfect instructions. I actually have quite a crappy relationship with food myself and my attention span is too short to be a really dedicated foodie.

I am however a technical type of foodologist, and that all started the first semester of Nutrition at college - in which the class collectively lost about 30 kilos. I highly recommend it if you want to lose weight yourself. When you find out the hideous amounts of utter CRAP jammed into "food" these days it's relatively easy to not eat it.

There isn't any real food in supermarkets, I promise. Anything that can stay on the shelf for anything longer than 3 days (short of things like flour, sugar, honey etc) stopped being food the day it was sealed in 'fresh' foil, plastic or even brown paper to really suck you in.

If you can READ you can COOK. There isn't any excuse. Don't whine at me that you don't have the time - if I can do it ANYONE can.

AAAAANND the best bit of cooking - is that it does save you time and money. If you do it right.

Always cook huge batches, you may as well because it probably adds about 10 minutes overall to cook double of something and freeze it for another day. You can have an entire WEEK off cooking by doing this......and there is nothing better than being tired and remembering you need only defrost a meal at the end of the day.

I made 8 DOZEN biscuits today (cookies if you are a Yank), vanilla, vanilla choc chip and double chocolate. I'm not crazy enough to bake it all at once - just roll the dough in cling wrap and freeze it. Bake as you need. I think that lot cost me about $5.

Arrange swaps with friends. One can do a big batch of soup, one spagetti sauces and maybe one can do bikkies/muffins. Everyone will have half their weeks dinner and snacks done with one Sunday afternoon frenzy.

Loud music and a glass or three of wine is a must for me. Kids should always be included if you can stand it.

So I cook because I am sanctimonious and povvo......but it's also one of the reasons I have managed for so long on so little!

Cheers,

Of course I have a plan

2010-05-03T07:09:00.004+10:00

Yep, I've got it pretty much worked out so I can turn everything on it's head. Tis gonna take a lot of hard work though and I have to get it sorted out quickly.

Winter in Melbourne is NO place to be running around with your undies on the outside....

Craptacular

2010-05-02T16:38:00.004+10:00

Ach - so I'm povvo. It's not going to change unless I do something drastic, and that's in the works now. So out of the long months of denial and freefall into the next chapter of Not Being Povvo Anymore.

Here's how I got here -

My marriage to Aquaman sadly hit the skids. I was working full time in a government job and things were sweet financially. I only had Teen Angst Queen...who was then known as Awesome Child.

Scorpio reappeared in my life and Cyclone arrived on the scene..errm rather quickly. Something to do with Scorpios house burning down and me clearly providing waaaaay to much comfort *snort *giggle.

I was also working part time for my father and when Cyclone was 4 months old I started a business in party plan (a cool one - ok?).
I bought a house when pregnant with Betty Boo (sucked in my tummy to get the loan) and the business started to take off. Took Mat Leave and juggled the business pretty well.

Home Business kept flying but it became apparent that I had to choose between business and family. Had savings so sailed through for awhile.

Returned to full time work when Betty was 2. Unmitigated disaster. Got shafted by stupid government - the day I showed up for work I was told I was moved to a totally different section meaning I had to completely re-train therefore stuffing my chances to return to my original salary and beyond within the timescale I required. Childcare, petrol, 2 hours a day in traffic and a Betty that wouldn't sleep turned me into a wreck within weeks and I had to chuck it in.

Bills piling up, picked up work here and there. Cyclones issues becoming more and more obvious. Thankfully find cheap therapist. Cyclone has sensory issues. This explains the intense and endless tantrums.

Betty needs a specialist for her eyes. Betty needs glasses. Car needs to be serviced. Cyclone needs a Paediatrition.

Return to study. Complete.

Start home business. Can't give it the attention but enjoy it immensely when I can.

Telly blows up. Children need clothes and food. Broken window. Car radiator bursts. Cyclone needs bigger carseat.

The list goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on.

This wouldn't be a problem if I could have gone back to full time work, but I can't. I would need way too much time off. Cyclone has a bunch of appointments ($600 worth), he is in a school that I ADORE but costs because it's independent. I also need to be able to pick him up when he has a moment. No employer would cop that.

Now with my father unwell and needing me around alot more I've got a snowflakes chance in hell of getting back to the workforce anytime soon. I'm glad to be available to dad, it's just a heap of fricken irony that the moment he needs me I'm teetering off the edge. Fuck it.

I've hung in there for AGES, scraping by and never missing a mortgage payment but sacrificing everything else in the meantime. It's not working and the quality of life is.....craptacular.

It's allll over red rover.

First Post

2010-04-29T08:51:00.000+10:00

Sarah at Just Me started this and I was tagged by The Lady of the Longhouse

Here is the first Blog Post I ever made -

So this is me. Lulu. I live in a sweet 1950's weatherboard house in suburban Australia with my mini tribe of children.
Angsty Teen Queen
Cyclone the 5 year old boy child, and
Betty Boo the baby.

Also featuring in my life is Ex Husband #1 Aquaman and Ex Husband #2 Scorpio.
Apparently it's unusual but the 3 of us are friends and co-parents. It's easier to maintain a friendship when you don't have to share your space or wash their socks.

I love to renovate and redecorate my little house. Since becoming a stay at home mumma I have learnt to do this on a minimal/non existent budget. I'm a brilliant fixer-upper and have come a long way from my early years when my tools consisted of a stiletto and a butter knife. I have POWER tools now. There will be more on this later.....

I also love to cook and feed my family but sadly my kitchen is as 1950's original as the rest of the house - the kitchen reno budget was soon used as extended maternity leave, which is a no-brainer really but also the source of daily swearing and grinding of teeth. I have tiles dropping off, cupboards that won't stay closed and STUPID drawers that cannot be accessed unless you open 2 or more cupboard doors. Get your head around that one...

I also have no oven - I only have myself to blame because in typical Lulu Style I happily ripped the old crusty one out shortly after I moved in. Before I had a new one, when I was running a busy home business and didn't have time to organise the new kitchen which has in turn never materialised...sigh. So my skills are rusty now. Well now I have new ones - like how to feed a family of four with a silly benchtop turbo oven.

I'm also a semi dedicated gardener and vegie grower. I adore everything that grows and never stop marvelling over the wonders of nature. I believe food is medicine, blooms fill your soul and nature is freaking AWESOME. We have much to be thankful for.

I'm about to start rejuvenating the vegetable patch - I just hope I don't lose the next crop the same way I did the last. Weeks of 40+ deg heat murdered the lot.

Wow, big first post. But I do talk alot as you will find out....

Cheers xoxoxo

Hmmm, so in review. I swear alot more than I thought I would, the vegie patch is still neglected....and I'm STILL povvo.

Ok, so now I tag

Bern at So Now What
Kristin at Wanderlust
E Whining at the World

I'm supposed to tag 5 BUT others I would like to tag have already tagged....and some others...well they seem so BIG with 8million followers that I get paranoid they will think "ACH - I don't DO dat shit anymore".

Eeermm, well this is the truth bit.....

2010-04-28T21:01:00.005+10:00

Yes, there were 3 of us in a motel room, completely free of partners and children.
Yes, we could have done the whole "Sex in the City" shopping-cocktails-in-trendy-bars thing.

But we didn't wanna.

We DID frock up and hit the town. It also took us about 95 pictures to get the final Awesomely Fabulous Photo before we left.

We DID have a fabulous cocktail at a fabulous bar - $60 a round and it was sooooo worth it.

We also went to the last place we had a great time many, many months ago....but that was NOT fabulous.

We ran into clouds of testosterone fuelled masses with more hair product I have ever used in all my born days.

It was a Long Weekend so everyone descended on the city.....and every venue thought it was a capital idea to squash as many people in as the place could hold.

This is NOT conducive to drinking fabulous cocktails...it was 5 deep at the bar.

This is NOT conducive to having a boogie on the dance floor. Unless you like standing in one spot bobbing up and down with your arms firmly by your sides. Lots of people DO think that is cool and apparently it gets a bit territorial because no sooner than the lovely Sushee and I dared step on the holy dance floor some 12 year old TWIG hip-and-shouldered Sushee nearly clear across the room. Very deliberately.

The little twerp nearly put my eye out with her pointy shoulder blade.

I wasn't too happy with this development....I wasn't sure whether give the twig a stern lecture, feed her a sandwich or throw her across the room.

I quickly realised I was feeding off the anger in the room - this comes with large groups of men clustered together making loud, unattractive remarks about females walking past and the resulting frustration at the prospect of going home alone AGAIN, nuff said - and wasn't having a good time.

So we hopped a taxi back to our lovely temporary home, sipped a fabulous cocktail or two....and laughed our asses off. We actually saw TWO girls wearing black opaque tights and white court shoes. We really did.

But I certainly DID sashay around that beautiful lobby, we definitely annoyed the crap out of the kitchen by demanding bigger tea cups - and causing the shy room service man to blush deeply as we squealed with delight when he met our request.

We did have a collective blonde moment when we noticed the lift hadn't moved for about five minutes because we were laughing so much that no one pressed the button to get to the ground floor.

and yeah....we did a bit of this

The Scary Truth of the Girls Weekend

2010-04-27T21:34:00.013+10:00

This is how we did it -

Book Hotel, preferably with swanky entrance. This is very important for a good sashay later on.

When you get to your room empty the stupid bar fridge.

And replace it with your own supplies

Set up your own Mini Bar....eermm Maxi Bar?

and ummmm, do alot of this

Yes, a very large proportion of our weekend was spent lying around on the beds. Just lying around. Talking, reading, listening to music and talking some more. Cos that's what we are best at, and that's what we really needed. UNINTERRUPTED by little voices and hands pulling at our clothes. I read the ENTIRE weekend papers, cover to cover and ALL the magazines. Yes, this thrills me.

We woke up to this one morning

The meeting point for the ANZAC Day march was right out the front.

Of course we did glam up and hit the town...but that's another story all together.

Chickpea Bikkies....

2010-04-27T19:59:00.004+10:00

this is not my photo, but they look about the same.

So I have professed to having some sort of problem buying endless cans of chickpeas (NOT lentils, der).

So this is what I do with them - and the kids never know ba HA HA HA hahahahaha!

Drain and rinse can of chickpeas. Put the oven on moderate (180c).
Then get a BIG bowl and thrown in a cup of firmly packed brown sugar and 3/4 cup margarine spread (yep, use butter if you like but I use the olive oil spread stuff) and mix it all together till it's smooth. If you have a Kitchen Aid or some other such wonderful machine use that but I'm POVVO so I use a crap beater thing cursing all the way.
Beat in an egg and 2 tsp VANILLA extract.

Whilst you are doing this you can distract the children by putting the chickpeas into a big ziplock bag and give them ladles and big spoons to belt the bag of chickpeas. Blutack in ears optional.

Get a cup of white choc chips and a cup of brown (but if you boycott Nestle like you should, you will chop up a block of fairtrade chocolate) and add that to the mix.

Next add 2 cups of flour (wholemeal is fine), half a cup of rolled oats, one tsp BAKING SODA and 1/4 tsp of salt.

Mix until it's sorta doughy, line a baking tray with baking paper and drop spoonfuls of the mix onto the tray and flatten them down a little. Bake for 10-12 minutes - don't overcook these babies, they will harden nicely when they cool.

I sometimes add more rolled oats or use a muesli mix instead and sometimes I roughly chop up dried fruit and pull back on the chocolate a bit.

Always in the lunchboxes...

ANZAC memorial

2010-04-25T11:31:00.000+10:00

Anthem for Doomed Youth by Wilfred Owen

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.

No mockeries for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, --
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Great War Primary Document Archive

Hanging with my peeps

2010-04-24T08:10:00.000+10:00

Yeh, dats where I'll be...right about now!

We'll be in the city all weekend, I've been looking forward to this for MONTHS. This pic was taken the last time we were all together and we drank cocktails, boogied and laughed our asses off until some ridiculous hour of the morning.

We won't be going nuts this time, just being in the same motel room (for 3 days!) will be enough.

The interwebz can be a scary place but at the same time if it didn't exist I wouldn't have 4 years of friendship with these girls, not just friendship but an awesome connection across thousands of kilometers. Actually I lie - one of the girls pictured only one of us knew.....but by the end of the night I decided we should be wed. So add another great connection, I'm sorry she won't be there this time.

Oh and another lie, one of them lives about 3 ks from me - but it's still been a loooong time since we have had any decent time face to face.

I am hoping to get to the ANZAC Dawn Service, but if it doesn't work out I'm sure I can find a game of two up around somewhere.