change is in the wind...

I think I’m going to stop writing this blog. I have lost interest and want to spend less time on computers and gadgets.  So this may be my last post.

Since our return from such an amazingly beautiful week at Heron Island, I have felt unsettled. I sulked for a week once we got home unable to accept suburban living, we all did.

Now I am left feeling like the way we all live our lives is so out of whack with nature and what is really important. Self-obsession, celebrity, vanity, greed, consumerism, keeping up with the Jones’… It’s all wrong. I am craving a more simple life.

I’m not into religion or spiritual bollocks, but I do strongly believe that as humans we do feel more fulfilled and we have more sense of purpose, when we are living surrounded by and appreciating nature. When we take time to actual feast our eyes on the real beauty of what is all around us - trees and clouds, the stars and sea. The world is an amazing place and the animals and marine creatures that live on it are incredible. They are inspirational and humbling. And it breaks my heart that we are destroying their habitat, killing them for trinkets, ‘medicine’ or health supplements. That we are enslaving them for our amusement in zoos and parks, and we are polluting the environment so that in years to come there will be nothing left and the sea will only contain slime.

Seeing hundreds of baby turtles hatch multiple times a day, and having the privilege to witness turtles lay their eggs, swimming with reef sharks and diving with a huge majestic manta ray, watching eagle rays soar into the sky and dive into the ocean, being surrounded by schools of beautiful fish, spotting bizarre alien-like marine creatures, watching shooting stars and walking in electric blue moonlight – these are the things that make me feel alive!

I want my kids to be influenced by people who are making a difference with their lives, who support causes and fight for change. People, who follow their passions and dreams, not people who are just motivated by money, power and a career in an office.  At Heron Island we met young people who had done more than most people do in a lifetime – participating in research trips to view wild Orcas or tag sharks and manta rays, spending time in Antarctica volunteering on environmental programmes, crewing on Sea Shepherd boats to save whales and dolphins from being slaughtered by the Japanese…

I want to make a difference. I want to be a role model for my kids and introduce them to another way of life. While living in the UK for my formative years, I was so ignorant of world issues and environmental causes. Travelling opened my eyes and now living here in Australia, living by the sea and being able to see the difference people can make (good and bad) makes me want to choose a different life - one that makes me feel fulfilled, one that matters. 

Or, maybe I’m just having a mid-life crisis and turning into a hippy! 

PND

I wish I had been warned. Why aren't women warned? Would it have made a difference? Could I have been more prepared? There was a vague mentioned of 'baby blues', but nothing that could prepare me for the absolute shock of becoming a mother. 

Or should the happily pregnant just enjoy the anticipation without more worry?

I'm talking about post natal depression. Being a new, first timer, alone with a tiny, needy, fragile baby. Your baby. Your responsibility. That terrible feeling of, 'Oh my God, what the fuck have I done?' Of being trapped and frustrated and confused and angry. Of wanting to just walk away. Of wanting my old life back. Of grieving for our old just-the-two-of-us relationship. The insanely strong feelings of love combined with confusion, frustration, tiredness and guilt.

I think had a mild case of it with my first. It lasted for about ten months, maybe longer. I can't really remember when the fog lifted. It just did. By the time Miss L was born I was myself again.

Reading Eleanor Limprecht's book,'What Was Left' has brought it all back to me. I haven't finished the story yet, but I'm really enjoying it. I can really relate to the main character and understand a lot of what she feels... I'd recommend the book to anyone who struggled a bit in those early, lonely days of motherhood.

Looking back at photos and videos of that time, still fill me with an uncomfortable sense of dread. Guilt that I didn't just relax and enjoy my sweet baby more. Pity for my sad, sorry, tired, zombie-like self. And a overwhelming relief that I got through it. 

As I have said before, I thank my dear Mr S for getting me through. It was just the two of us in a new country, in a new city, in a new apartment, with no family or support. At all. Never. No one to call on. No one to take the baby for an hour or two. Just us. I can't imagine what it must have been like for him. Coming home from a new job, to a wreck of a wife and a little needy baby. But we did it. Together we got through and I'm proud of the job we've done. I guess as the saying goes, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. 

What was Left by Eleanor Limprecht 

3 of the 4

This dress is a bit of a different look for me, but for $5, I thought I'd give it a go. This is item number three from the Supre $5 sale (see last weeks post). It's super dooper comfy on and I love that I don't need a bra, due to the low sides, so it's great for summer.

Little Miss L wasn't impressed though and asked if I'd do the 'drop and go' at school rather do than our normal walk into the playground for a kiss goodbye. I asked her why and she wouldn't answer. Then it suddenly hit me that she didn't like my outfit. I asked her if she was embarrassed by me, or what I was wearing and she just cringed and said, "I just don't want you to come in Mum!" 

Bloody charming! Do all mothers embarrass their kids at some point?  Mine did because they were old, they stood out and I hated them coming to school. I never really thought I'd embarrass mine though, other than the normal growing up and not wanting to be seen hanging around your parents stage.  I said to Miss L, "Imagine if I was fat and wore ugly shoes and horrible frumpy dresses! Look around you - I'm a cool Mummy!".  She still wasn't impressed, just shrugged her shoulders and made me promise not to go beyond the entrance gates!

Rainbow Supre $5 sale dress with Havaianas (thongs)

primal hunger or just an itch to scratch?

Lots of sex talk this weekend, discussing likes and dislikes. It's so bloody fascinating isn't it.  No matter how old you are, the evolution of needs, wants and preferences is just one of those topics I could discuss for hours on end. It amazes me what a huge spectrum there is, from prudish to extreme, and everything in between.

I have just finished reading Nikki Gemmell's I Take You. It was okay. Her books are getting a little repetitive and silly, but I read it quickly and it got me thinking about what is 'normal' nowadays. It also made me question my own preferences and what is and isn't off limits, because I hate think I'm missing out on something, but then again, I don't feel the pressure to 'explore' any more. I've been there and done most of it. I know what I like and what I absolutely don't. To be honest, I'm glad I'm not in that phase of my life where you have to experiment and challenge and push boundaries. 

I guess the thing that I am most surprised by, is that age doesn't necessarily dampen a persons sex drive. I presumed, naively, that as you got older you'd want 'it' less, but from talking to others (people of all ages), that isn't the case.

 

middle aged madness

I've just finished a booked called Mutton by India Knight. I really enjoyed it and must admit to giggling quite a few times whilst reading. It's a story of a 46 year old divorced mother of three who starts to question what's 'age appropriate' when you're in your 40s. I am a little embarrassed at how much I related to this book, which is essentially an honest exploration of what it means to be a female hitting 'middle age' and what happens when the builders stop whistling at you, lines start to appear on your face and you start to question what you can wear so that you still look cool without being 'mutton'.

This book resonated with me because it's a strange phase of life that I'm currently journeying into. I'm not really 'young' anymore, and while I'm totally okay with that, I am actually quite content and happy with myself, I don't want to be 'old'.  At some point in the next decade, no matter how fit and healthy, I will cross that line of looking middle aged, and I admit I don't like the prospect of becoming invisible. But then again I don't want to become obsessed with looking great no matter what cost. 

Once again, as always, it's all about balance isn't it? About being happy with yourself and surrounding yourself with honest, like minded people who 'get' you and your quirks and just enjoy the here and now and making the most of what you have.

pregnancy no no

No I'm certainly not pregnant. And this isn't a mumsy blog. But I have to tell you, I was truly shocked by something I saw the other day, outside my local shopping centre, as I walked back to my car.

So shocked that I couldn't help but stare with a confused, horrified, disgusted look on my face (oh dear I'm turning into an old hag who looks like she's sucking on a sour sweet). There was a young lady (well younger than me) massively, heavily, stomach strainingly, about to pop any minute pregnant, walking along with her partner - sucking on a cigarette! I mean deep drags, filling her lungs like her life depended on it. She saw me. I couldn't look away. She enjoyed seeing my horror struck face, so she took another long drag and blew the smoke in my direction!

Who does that? It's 2013. We know better. Who smokes (in broad sunny day public), without a care in the world while pregnant?! I'm sorry but what a skank. No excuses. 

mid life tantrums

Do you suffer from tantrums? I do. I had one this morning. After spending a lovely restlessful couple of hours, reading, topping up my tan by the pool. I came inside for lunch, discovered my first born had been reading all morning and outspewed a rant about homework and deadlines and getting your priorities right (like a bloody broken record). Then I accidentally knocked the cheesy biscuits tin off the side of the kitchen counter and we both stood in silence for a moment, staring at the broken biscuits all over the floor, waiting for my reaction to come... would it be nice mummy or horrible mummy?

My thoughts were, one, take a deep breath, laugh, say, "Opps silly mummy!" and sweep them up. Two, erupt. I chose two. I couldn't contain it. Really, I couldn't. And out it came! Wooosh! Nasty, childish, horrible words and accusations and fault blaming. All directed at my clever, polite, sweet, but not-as-on-top-of-his-assignments-as-he-could-be, boy. Oh dear. I've said it before, but sometimes I do think I should of just stuck to raising cats... 

nymphomaniac

Actors showing us their orgasmic faces to promote Lars Von Thier's new movie Nymphomaniac (Lars produced the controversial film Idiots in 98). Very effective and intriguing. I like them. I like the simple design of the images. The posters combined with Shia LaBeouf telling MTV News that the A Lister's would engage in real sex for the camera, has resulted in a lot of media coverage about this movie (it turns out they have cast porn actors for the real sex bits). 

So where do you stand on actual sex in movies, mainstream movies, not porn...? By that I mean proper movies that have story lines but also real sex scenes, rather than films just about the sex.

I'm undecided. No. Actually I think it's unnecessary. It turns a film, however good/arty the story into a porn film. Just a more 'high brow' one. It complicates the film and in some cases feels wrong, like you're perving on someone's most intimate moments. I feel it also crosses some kind of line with the actor too. Do we really need to see someone famous getting off whilst 'acting'?

I really enjoyed Caligula, the film starring Peter O'Toole, Helen Mirren and Malcolm McDowell. I first saw the uncut version in Amsterdam in the early 90s. A good film, but with porno bits and a big mass orgy.

And, 9 Songs, the 2006 film which features sex, masturbation, oral and ejaculation. A story about a normal couple and their relationship. Again, a good film, but it's still porn really. Would the film have even made headlines if it didn't have explicit footage? And I've never seen the actors in anything else.    

There have been a few others too, mainly European, but the English ones, you may have heard of include, Romance, Intimacy, Shortbus, Ken Park, and of course, Brown Bunny featuring Chloe Sevigny giving a blow job...(totally over rated!).

Maybe I'm just getting old, but I think some things are better left to your imagination. I find the subject of sex immensely fascinating and I am not anti porn at all (although there are limits and boundaries) but, I think in film, it's just to get attention. 

 

 

bullshit

It's bull



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Don't you just f**king hate bull shitters? You know the types. They've done everything first, bigger, better, faster, longer, stronger, better, bigger... than anyone else. And they breed kids who have the same annoying jumped up self promoting attitude. Ugh. 

Give me an honest, two way, interested, enthusiastic conversation any day, with open, honest, interesting, down to earth people.

Just ranting. And don't panic, this isn't about anyone in particular. Just feeling hormonal. My tits are sore, little things are making me seethe. Like when I dropped my wooden spoon and sauce splattered everywhere, and I said "fk shit fk shit" in front of the kids and had a minor tantrum about my crap day (because I didn't tick everything off my To Do list)... I'm going to stop now.  Before I rant some more and bore you all silly!

a fling on the same side?

One of my old school friends and I made a pact over dinner one night (when we were in our 20s) that if we weren't married by the time we hit 40 we'd fly to New York, stay in a gorgeous hotel, sip cocktails, go to cool clubs and be seduced by a woman, have a full on sexual lesbo adventure. At the time, I pictured a classy, elegant but dirty blond, (I was imagining a kind of Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct - well - it was the 90s!). Someone slightly older who could take charge and show me the ropes... Now as I approach the dreaded middle age milestone, I'm not so sure who I would chose (if I was actually single and up for it that is) and I had my pick of famous people...

So it got me thinking. Kate, Christy, Helena, Elle, nah not a supermodel. Juliette Moore, my beloved Angie-Ms-Perfect, Cate Blanchett, hmmmm. It's a toughie. Then it hit me. Tilda!  Yes, Tilda bloody Swinton. A total surprise I know! A bit too dykie I hear you cry, but you know, but I think she'd be perfect. Pop her in a silk slip and a pair of heels and yes, I could go Tilda. She's kind of dominant and sexy in a strange intriguing way (she'd have to do all the work, obviously). Umm. Yes. Food for thought.



Is there someone down there Tilda?



half empty or half full?

I'm guilty of always wanting a bit more, of rarely feeling totally satisfied. When I am, the feeling doesn't last long because I quickly move on to the next need or want. It's a crap character trait. I wish I was more content. I wish the satisfied feeling lasted longer.

New shoes, a must have dress, a holiday, a short break in the country, an adventure... It's constant. An endless cycle. Glass half empty / glass half full...

My needs and wants are all so superficial, self indulgent and unimportant, it's ridiculous really. First World problems, that in the grand scheme of things, are not problems at all! Basically a desire to live well beyond my means. Instead of real problems such as ill health or sickness, danger, fear, addiction, basic survival, exploitation, hunger, abuse or domination. I worry about not being able to afford another holiday, if I'm paying too much for a bunch of kale (or whatever food type is flavour of the month), or whether my cellulite shows through my dress...

The truth is everyone I know, myself included, lead very privileged lives. Happy, healthy families, all the trappings of middle class life. Travel, boats, new cars, private schools, wardrobes overflowing with nice clothes, healthy diets, meals out and time to enjoy ourselves. We're all very lucky to live in this bubble, so far away from the problems of the worlds majority.

I'm not one for wanky feel-good, 'oh I'm so grateful', motivational quotes or blogs or pictures. And quite frankly the word 'journey' and 'blessed' make me want to gag, but it is good to sit back and just appreciate what you have sometimes. Life is so fragile. Things can change in an instant. I'm going to try and make an effort to be happy with what I have and remember that sometimes even ignorance can be bliss.

Is your cup half full or half empty?

would I like me?

A bit of a ramble this morning...Mondayitus.

I was driving the mini me to school this morning and I suddenly wondered what I look like to other people. What impression I make. What would I think if I passed myself in on the street or observed me out having coffee with friends. Would I think I looked cool, frumpy, fun, boring, old??? I don't know. I guess it would depend on what I was wearing to a degree, but the overall 'vibe'... what do I give off? Would I like myself? 

If I'm honest I do look at people and judge them. Mainly on whether I think they look interesting, boring or too high maintenance, and yes, what they wear. Their confidence can be a good or bad thing, depending on whether they are self obsessed/promoting or not.

Don't worry I'm not feeling insecure, I don't need reassurance, I'm just wondering out loud...

Would I think what a stuck up, shallow, selfish, unsocial person with delusions of grandeur?  Or would I think, I like her, she's honest, amusing, interesting? Truth is, a bit of both probably.

Do you think with more money, you become more self obsessed, vain and insecure, because you have more time to focus on yourself (and not just with making ends meet)?  Look at all the young actors who have died recently, who seemed to 'have it all'... Heath Ledger, Amy Winehouse, Brittany Murphy, Corey Haim and now Cory Monteith.

Did they dislike themselves? What turned them to addiction? Were they depressed? Too hard on themselves? Would they have been happier and healthier without the fame? So sad, such a waste of life.

I guess we all need a positive self image, and a healthy outlook on life. That comes from good friends, work/life/family balance and the old 'cup half full' motto - it's a good one.



what a poser! A selfie taken in the loo

What to do for the big 4. 0.

I'm at a bit of a loss really. About turning 40 next month. It doesn't really bother me to be honest, but I do find it a bit bizarre that I will soon be officially 'middle aged'. I'm not really sure if I've ever given being 40 much thought. It's a big milestone, one that has always felt so far away in the future that it's not been worth thinking about. When I was younger I could never 'see' beyond 30. I guess I thought that by 40 I'd be 'sorted'. Content, settled, boring (?)...

But there is an expectation, a pressure, that you should do something to mark the occasion, and that is where I'm stuck. 

I have set a budget for the Big Day, and it seems these are my choices...

Ideas for celebrating a 40th:

A skydive

A party at home 

A party at a venue

A weekend away (with friends or family or husband)

A trip somewhere new/exciting

A real pair of Christian Louboutin Pigalle stilettos (v tempted)

A diamond pendant/necklace

A pair of diamond earrings

A meal at a flashy restaurant (with husband)
A painting

Ummm.... I just can't decide. Actually, I can. I want to be selfish. I want something for me. I want the diamond necklace! I was going for the designer heels, but have changed my mind. I want to blow my budget on a keepsake that I can wear everyday, that will last forever, that I can pass on to mini me one day.

Having a party is just not my thing. I know that's anti-social, but it's just too much work and time and effort - and it cuts into my pressie money (!). Besides, Mr S and I often drink and reminisce to all our favourite retro tunes, so, do I need to subject my friends to that on a larger scale? Nah.

A lunch and glass of champers with friends, perhaps. Or informal drinks one night? Yes, that would be nice. Low key, that's me!

But a diamond is forever. A girls best friend. Yes. Choice made. Thanks for helping chaps! 



Shoes, parties, holidays, adventure... what would you choose? all of the above?!

children should be seen and not heard...

Why are other peoples kids so bloody annoying and unbearable?  Before you panic and think I'm talking about your kids - I'm not. I'm talking about strangers kids. 

Take the other day as an example. I'm at a theme park. My kids and their friends have run off to have fun, leaving me for an hour of quiet time (yes I found a nice sunny, quiet corner) to read and enjoy a coffee. When suddenly I hear a loud barking next to me. Bark, bark, bark, yap, yap, yap, bark ,bark, bark, growl, bark, and so it goes on in the same loud, monotone pitch...  WTF?! I look over to see a boy, aged anywhere between 8-12 standing about a foot from me, just barking to himself.  I glared at him, silently shouting, 'Go away annoying little shit, you're old enough to know better!', then his family and friends arrived and 'parked' at a nearby table for a 'rest' and he just carried on barking!  They totally ignored him. I don't understand?! Why don't people control their kids, think of others, act like normal people?! 

Another example. My two hours of hell on my recent flight from KL to Brisbane. We were about to take off. My sister and I have managed to bag ourselves two seats each (window and aisle). Excellent. When the pilot announces there is a problem with one of the doors, so could we please stay in our seats with our seat belts fastened. Great! Then, all the people from near the faulty door please move to fill empty seats up the back.  What? My empty seat. NO!  My sister got a nice looking man. Who did I get? Oh f**k.  Please don't sit next to me, please don't sit next to me!!!  They did.  An old crinkled granny (who couldn't speak any English) and her all wriggling, all kicking, all grabbing, hyper grandson, aged about two. AGGGHHHHH!  I am not joking when I say the next couple of hours were TORTURE.  F***********K!  I then had to endure being kicked constantly by two little hard hitting feet (clad in heavy boots), being jabbed in the ribs every 30 seconds by Granny, and being lent over to try and open and shut my window shade and poke at my personal seat back TV!!!  I tried smiling politely and gently moving the boys kicking legs from my thighs. In the end I gave up, turned totally purple (with rage), and flattened myself as close as possible to the plane 'wall' in an effort to minimise bruising, all the while boring holes of resentment into the back of my sisters head, as she peacefully read her damn book! I'm not joking when I say that it took every little bit of self control not to lose the plot. I was seeing the newspaper headlines, 'Stuck up cow hits small child as his old loving grandmother tried to protect him'... 

Eventually the Granny and the boy moved to two seats of their own.  My blood levels returned to normal and our flight finally took off.

back to reality...

I've been back a little over a week. After my initial relief to be off the plane and back home with Mr S, our kids and my babies (of the hairy pussy kind), I must admit to feeling flat and drained. I'm kind of back to feeling normal now, after a mad week of playing catch up. But the emotional toll of seeing my Dad for the last time ever was exhausting. Almost as bad was the environment he is in. I just wasn't prepared for The Nursing Home.
 
The smell. My God, I literally had vomit rising in my throat on several occasions and had to make a speedy exit back to fresh (ish) air! I have a sensitive nose. I do. Handy for detecting subtle scents and flavours.  But unfortunately on this occasion, I was picking up a combination of shit, piss, puke, floral air 'fresheners', bleach, meat, boiled veg and yesterday's stale version of all of the above! The only solution was to turn off my nose and breathe through my mouth, and put up with the hot, thick air.

I have upmost respect for the men and women who work in these places. And my Dad is lucky enough to live in one of the 'best'... How they manage to remain upbeat and positive beats me. In the two weeks that I visited Dad, I lost count of the times we had to call them to help out at 'toilet time' and they would happily roll on a pair of latex gloves and deal with dirty nappies, accidents, nappy rash and soiled clothes. If I ever get like that, kill me!

The saddest thing though, wasn't the old people in various states of illness, aging, dementia, confusion, depression and loneliness, it was the younger residents. People in their 30-50s in palliative care, trapped in useless, trembling bodies, but with alert eyes that look so desperate for relief or for their former lives. So unbelievably depressing. 

I'm sorry for putting you all in a downer with this grim post. But blimey life can be so cruel! And don't even get me started on the subject of euthanasia! Human's are sick bastards for insisting on prolonging a life of suffering and humiliation.

So, my words of advice people, is to make the bloody most of it for as long as you can! 

I don't want to get old!!!

over and out (for a bit)

Well dear readers the time has come for me to take a short break while I travel overseas to sunny (ha ha) England.  I've packed my winter clothes ready for the English summer and I have my sleeping pills at the ready (for the flight).  My list of instructions for dear Mr S have been printed and I'm kind of all ready to go.  Just trying to think of the positives, for example:

I will see a new country. I haven't stopped over at KL before, so that'll be nice
I will see my lovely brothers again (who I haven't seen in a year or two)
We'll be all together as a family
I will soak up London for a brief spell and wonder why I ever left (because it is a bloody great city)
Possible shopping...

I'm still trying not to think about why I'm going. When Little Miss S asked me last night why I was going away, I simply told her the truth, "Granddad is going to die soon, and I need to see him one last time, to tell him that I love him very much and that he has been the best Dad". Tears welled up in her eyes and it suddenly hit me hard in the chest, like a tight squeeze around my heart. The image of my dad and me as a young girl and how important he was to me, my world, or one half of it... God it's so much easier to keep that hard wall up! This dying thing is horrible.  I know we all have to face it but it really is a sad part of life. It made me think of when Mr S and I are old and it's our turn... Gotta make the most of it people!

Right. Enough. Over and out.

x

comfort v style

I want to be a cool looking 'older' lady.

I will not wear shapeless clothes and have a clone 'hair cap'.

 

When does it happen?  When do you make the shift to thinking about comfort over style?  Not just with clothes and shoes, but with haircuts and even furniture?

Is it a sign of giving up, having low self esteem, or just being content to just blend in to the background and not caring any more. Or is it just age?  Do you hit 45, 50, 60 and say, righteo, time to cut off my long locks and turn into a short haired, masculine looking, boring clone, with 'comfortable shoes'! (and ugly sofas)? I feel sorry for the partners of these people, not if they've both 'gone to seed' but if one is drab and the other still looks like they make an effort.

I often wonder if some people just don't look in the mirror. They can't. Can they? Do they see what I see, well obviously not.

I don't mean we all have to be totally effected, high maintenance, fashion addicts with gorgeous homes.  I mean acceptable. Nice. Normal. After all, it's not hard is it, to look okay.  Just avoid pigging out on the wrong foods, don't sit around permanently getting flabby, go for a walk, laugh, have sex at least once a week and wear nice clothes (and shoes). Easy. No excuses.  Okay - well maybe when you're 80.  But not yet - not in your 30/40s. 

biggest fattie

Okay. I may offend some of you. This is not a politically correct post. But, I have to ask... Is anyone else sick of the Biggest Fatty, oops I mean Loser, ads on Channel Ten? God, they annoy the crap out of me! Fat parent and fat kid facing each other in a fake 'motivational-therapy-let's do this together and break the cycle' session. Oh please, barrff!

How can these parents let their kids get that fat in the first place??!! It's a form of bloody abuse! Kids shouldn't get fat! A little chubby perhaps, a little extra, that's fine. But obese by 18, a stroke by 19, diabetes by 14... come on! That's not acceptable. And sorry, I don't buy the poorly educated, no role model, working class, addicted to food crap. Just stop eating! Don't feed your kid so much junk!

When I was growing up, at school, none of us came from wealthy or privileged backgrounds. Most people came from council estates, and there was only one fat kid at school. Just one. So what's changed in the last 20-odd years since I left school? Everyone has to be a victim, or an addict, or have a mental health problem (ADHD etc etc)...

Yes, I admire the 'contestants' for putting their hands up to do something about it, working together to improve their lives blah, blah, blah. But really, is getting on a TV show so you can tell your story to millions what it takes?!

Ten's Biggest Loser 2013 starts soon...

Yes. Me hot and bloody sweaty after my run this morning!
Soaked is an understatement! My top is saturated. Nice!

under pressure

My baby has started high school. Grade 7. Blimey. It makes me feel old. I mean I remember high school so well. It doesn't seem like it was that long ago. I had fun at school, that's what school was for, right?.  Learning?  Pfft.  After I hit 13 that aspect of school life took a back seat.  But that was me. I don't want my son to be like me.  I want him to go to school to learn and do well and succeed in life.  I don't want him to live a mediocre life of wishing he'd worked harder.  I want him to find things easy, not to have to try too hard, that combination of popular, passionate, hard working, interesting and motivated. Basically I want my son to be perfect. Poor baby. I put too much pressure on him, I know I do.  Last night, after a rant, I blurted out, "It's because I love you, because I care. I want the best for you!" But I know I'm going about it all the wrong way.  He didn't deserve the ear bashing, it was me feeling the pressure and just trying to 'encourage' him, but it all came out wrong, and I had to walk away and go and write in my diary to calm down. 

God knows what my kids will remember about me, when they are all grown up. My parents just wanted me to be happy.  I want my kids to be rich and happy in all aspects of their lives, to travel the world and to do something worth while.

Sometimes I think I'm not cut out for this parenting lark. I should have just worked in a shoe shop and had cats...
 

School

out of hibernation ramble

Oh I don't want the school holidays to end. I have never been one to count down the days until my kids are back at school.  Not necessarily because I love their company and because of all the quality time we share (umm not always the case, I'll admit).  But because I am essentially a lazy cow who likes to go to bed late, get up late, potter about not doing very much, just relaxing at home, by the pool, or out somewhere nice.

I can feel the pressure building already, just the thought of having to jump back on the merry-go-round of school drops and after school activities and rants about homework and piano practise and the absolute worst - making bloody packed lunches! It all makes my head ache already and long for the next holiday!

I also have the added anxiety of my eldest starting high school. OMG!  I have a kid at high school!  How can that be? That must mean I'm getting OLD. It's bizarre. Five minutes ago he was a baby... So, this is the start of a new chapter, one I am excited and apprehensive about.  My little boy is turning into a young...man!  Big changes ahead and new territory.  I hope he'll be okay. Take it all in his stride and enjoy himself, whilst continuing to do well and have well mannered friends and set himself up with the skills he needs for his future.  I know this is a bit premature, but please, no tattoos or piercings, underage piss ups, snorting things, rampant wanking and sex... No, that won't happen, he is not me. Thank God. 

All ready for school...sort of.