23 Nov 2016


Kids say the darnedest things right?

I've been feeling a bit woeful about my fat arse of late.  Well fat everything of late.  I still look like I'm about to give birth and I actually gave birth 7.5 months ago.

Sure the hernia isn't helping but neither is the extra weight that I put on, AFTER having a baby.

Whoever said breastfeeding helps you lose weight is full of shite.

Anyway, a tight budget and even tighter pants, have made me pull in the reigns.  I've started working out again and banished potato chips from the house.

God I love potato chips.

Today Mushroom and I were swimming in our lagoon like pool and I was doing some water resistant exercises because old, fat and dodgy knees, make water exercises a very good option.

"Mummy what are you doing?"

"I'm just doing some stretching and exercises."

"But why?  Don't you need your conmuter?"

I've been doing workouts from youtube on the back patio.

"No darling.  I'm just doing some exercises under the water today. It's too hot out there now and Molly's asleep"

"But why you doing exercises?"

"Because exercise is good for you.  Remember?  We all need to do exercise.  Besides Mummy needs to make her bum smaller."

"But I like your bum Mummy.  It's like a big air balloon."

Followed by 5 minutes of cackling and continued variations of the following:

"Big air balloon, big air balloon bum, bum balloon, air balloon bum, BALLOON BUM...."

I weighed myself tonight and I've not lost a single gram.  Not one after three weeks of being active and not stuffing food into my face mindlessly.

That coupled with the fact that my arse is a giant balloon was enough to drive me to eat peanut m&ms.  

Tomorrow is another day.

Peanut M&M's wouldn't melt.... 

14 Nov 2016


My daughter turned 7 months old yesterday.  7 months!!  And it's been a rough day.  I was up at 11 last night, then from 3 till 5 something with a crying, teething crankster.  I don't know if its due to the lack of sleep but I've been wondering, is it possible, at 35 years of age, to have a mid-life crisis?

I found photo's from school yesterday.  Hidden behind another photo in a frame, there was four or five shots from my teen years.  Being the 90s, we didn't have smart phones, which is great but also shit as I literally only have a handful of pics of me and my friends from this time.

Anyway, one of the photo's was of me sitting at a desk at the local newspaper when I did work experience.  I'm 15.

All I wanted to do, since before I can even remember, was be a journalist.  The next Jana Wendt.  So what happened?  It's 20 years later and I've done nothing in terms of a career.  I literally have no qualifications at all.

I started university but didn't finish.

I started certificates but didn't finish.

I've spent thousands of dollars attempting to get qualifications that I don't have.

Tonight Juffin asked me what I wanted to do, like really wanted to do for a job, and all I could think of was this blog, and editing books and that's never going to happen because it's too late.  I've missed the boat.  I fucked around, procrastinated, made excuses and now, now my chance at a career is over.

I actually cried and told him I couldn't talk about it.

Who in there right mind would hire someone to do a marketing job who's just turned 40 and has never worked in the field?  Why would someone do that when they can hire a 20 year old who has more experience, more know how, and is willing to work for half the price?

So I'm sitting here, feeling sorry for myself, wishing that I'd put at least a little bit of effort into using my brain for study and learning and not wasting it by re-reading the Tomorrow When the War Began series for the 6th time.

Because I'm not a teenager anymore.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who feels like this?  What the fuck am I going to do for the rest of my life?

And just because, here's another photo of me when I was a mere babe, because I'm like a poster child for the 90s minus the black choker and my lipstick is actually on point.

9 Nov 2016


My children are literally driving me insane.

Today I got so angry I envisioned ripping the four year old's leg off as he ran away from me.

That might sound totally over the top and pretty crazy but I tell you, the Mum rage is real.  I know it is because I feel it everyday. And I'm honest.

People don't talk about it because 'my kids are my life, I love them so much...' blah blah blah.  Yes, you love your kids, we all love our kids, but fuck.  Sometimes you just want to kill them.

Molly won't sleep at the moment, she's teething, constantly trying to stand up and face planting and obviously turning 13 soon because she's heaps of fun to be around.  The non-stop crying and screaming for my attention is in no way annoying at all. She also wants my boob in her mouth at all times and actually pulls off to yell at me if I try and do other things like go to the toilet, drink water, prepare food. I know!  How dare I?  I'm such a bitch cow.

The Mushroom will not leave his fucking sister alone.  Pushing her over, carrying her around, snatching things out of her hands and generally being a total shit.  When he's not tormenting her, he's tormenting me by ordering me around, screaming in my face that he's lost a Lego bit, or demanding food and/or attention.  But not that food, that's YUCK MUMMY!

We went to Kmart this morning as Molly decided 20 mins sleep was enough and Mushroom was literally climbing the walls.  We were there 3 minutes before we had a screaming match in front of the Lego, accompanied by a crying baby, and then another screaming match as the four year old used his body weight and lay down whilst holding onto the pram in protest of leaving said toy section.  Lucky shoppers got to view another tantrum mere moments after the first!

Of course we managed to find the photo frames, the real reason for our visit, and Master Mushroom admits, of course, that he desperately needs to go the toilet.  I can't deny that I looked around for a pot plant but we made it to the register and the toilet on time.  If we'd left without the goods, there was no way I was coming back.

It took longer to get ready and drive there than the time we were actually inside.

I don't know why I try to get out of the house.  I clearly need to stop thinking that they'll behave if I go out.

Just when you are contemplating hiding in the wardrobe to scull a bottle of vodka, you walk into the lounge and there is this...

That's a dirty tea towel.

And, yes, he is naked underneath it.

Give me strength.