Reasons I Hate Camping This Time Around

Or why I am a terrible human bean, because Husband does a good job of packing most things and maybe it’s not really so heinous.

My sleeping bag: swaddled in nylon, and not the cute vintage nightgown type, but the padded tarpaulin that doesn’t breathe and makes my vagina swampy because of the not breathing, not natural fabric, type nylon.

The weather: Hot and soupy in the bus, then freezing in the night so I wake and double-check the boys are covered since they weren’t before when it was hot af, and not be able to get back to sleep.

My sleeping bag: it makes lots of noise because of the tarpaulin thing, which keeps me awake and wakes me up every time I fucking move or breathe.

People: they start their diesel engined RVs rudely early, which wakes me up and because I can see outside, it stops my brain from going back to sleep, so… fuck those guys.

Packing: I always forget that I want to clean my ears after swimming or just baking in my sleeping bag and I don’t bring any cotton tips. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not not an outdoor girl, but I respect outdoors when I can come indoors and wash it all away. And also, I guess I need a new sleeping bag.

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The Different Summer

There are only 2 weeks left until school starts! I am in two minds about this because the kids drive me mad quite a bit, but also, I haven’t had half as much quality time with them this year, as in previous years. I had a nice week here and there, but that’s it. There were no themed-camp weeks, or gardening, or much else. There was fuck all, really. But there were life lessons in there, anyway, as there are for any who might look for the silver lining.

My kids are not the centre of the universe: I like to think that they knew this already, since I’ve never dropped anything to be at their beck and call, but since I’m working and they are home with Husband, who is also working but just from home, I’m not available to them. They’ve had to make their own adventures, which I think they’ve done in the past, anyway, but let’s face it, my adventures kick ass! They have learned that they fit into a social fabric, rather than being the yarn of the fabric, or whatever other metaphor you like. 

Their actions have consequences: Again, I think they knew this but they surely had it reinforced when I came home in the afternoon/early evenings and if they were dicks, they would hear about it! 

If something hadn’t been done by the time I got home that I had asked about in the mornings, then get thee to bed, devils. 
There’s not always enough time: We ran out of time for pretty much everything this summer, and we all had to just deal. We all wanted playdates and day trips and creative opportunities. There were half as many daytrips and a mere tenth of the number of playdates we would have liked, but with soon-to-be 9yos birthday coming up, we hope to rectify that a little with a stupidly large party that includes two classes, at least that’s an opportunity for some creativity.

I can’t imagine that next summer will be any different, but maybe we’ll be used to it by then?

The Order Of The Day

Besides no whining about screens? Fun! It’s eclipse day and the sky is clear, so clear and bright. We have our pimped out solar glasses and are just trying to figure out where the moon is. We’ve used the glasses a few times already, looking at the sun in all its sunny glory, so we’re good and not blind.

But what does one wear to the end of the world/eclipse? Something flowy, obvs.

What does one listen to during an eclipse? Something loud.

And what does one drink? Something bubbly!

And eat? Duh, everything.

See you on the other side, peeps.

Good Morning

This morning I have woken up in 2004, in a studio apartment.  Last night I slept in my HQ, which is a spare bedroom upstairs where I have my sewing stuff and a too-small table to spread out my notes and papers. 

I dragged the boys to a small hardware store yesterday for vacuum bags for the ants but they didn’t have the right size. So after we came back from a birthday party and then a burger joint, I dragged my tired ass upstairs and crawled into bed with this guy.

This morning, I am surrounded by most things I had in that teeny apartment more than a decade ago, when I moved to Sydney to start my grown up life in the big smoke: bathroom, desk, ironing board, wardrobe, and clothes strewn hell to breakfast. The only thing I lack up here is a kitchen. On the other hand, I’ve got some thought-provoking art that I didn’t have back then.

Even someone talking in their sleep in the next room, last night, reminded me of those days, because my studio was a renovated sun room or etc, on the back of a house with a couple of roommates in there. But someone complaining loudly about not being able to play minecraft had me crashing back to reality, and I need to tidy up the kitchen or Husband will lose his shit when he comes home today. We met a few months after I moved into that appartment, he was a little less vocal about my mess.

To Do: drink.

We have a big house. It’s going to hurt when it falls down on us. There are carpenter ants underneath it and in the walls, munching and munching away to make a space to lay eggs. I can’t remember the names of them, I always think they are Trelawney Ants. 

They are fuckers, is what they are. They were eating a wall at the front of the house, then we had them gassed. I found them in our bedroom, which led to finding a leaking pipe in our bathroom and some horrendous damage, oh goody! With that gone, that should have dried up the ants interest in the house, but today I found them on my bedside, in my wardrobe and my clothes. It’s all a bit overwhelming, not to mention annoying AF. But that’s the joys of homeownership, I suppose. 

Note to self: next time we contemplate buying a house, cloose an empty plot of land and build it ourselves. When we are ready to pour the foundation, also pour every last cent into the wet cement and stop right there. It would be less stressful, I think.

We will need to replace the damaged wood inside the walls, and floors, too, if they are defying gravity, and I wouldn’t put it past them. 

I tried to vacuum the c****s out of my wardrobe, and succeeded for a few minutes, until I saw them all over my clothes and fucking wept – just like Jesus, except not as pious, and then geared up the vacuum but the bag was full, and the GD thing won’t work without a bag and there are no bags left. I hate my life.

Good Luck!

Husband was away last week so I had a few days off from work and the boys and I did a few errands and what not, but it was hot af so we weren’t cavorting like we planned. Thursday was the day I had planned yet another baby shower for a colleague, so I stashed the boys in a spare room at the back and worked my magic. But I hope the parents-to-be aren’t under the impression that kids (or mine) are that well-behaved that often, because that is some straight up bullshit. To their credit (AND MINE), they were quiet and kept themselves occupied while the rest of us played, and they were justly rewarded with cupcakes, win win. But the real winners were, of course, my colleague and his wife because they are still naive about kids and parenting…

They have a nautical theme for their nursery, so I complied but couldn’t do all the cutesy stuff like “captain adorable” onesies etc because some of the up and ups are quite busy and, ahem, non-participatory when it comes to arts and crafts. So I put a game together, in the fashion of the Sydney to Hobart yacht race, with blue, grid-lined paper for the board and the water. Then we needed boats to sail over them thar seas.

The boats sailed with the aid of a compass and encounted obstacles and assistance in the form of dolphins, wind, knots and booze, among other things.

We ate “seaweed snacks” aka lettuce wraps, and cured meat (jerky) and fruit (rollups) for the vegetarian. Because I was out of the office I wasn’t able to make adorbs cupcake toppers like I wanted, but we did have lifesaver candies strewn throughout the seven seas. 

The object of the game was to make it to “Bay-bee-dos” as opposed to Barbados, but the map was conveniently unmarked in true pirate fashion, or “ran out of time because I’m at home wrangling monkeys” fashion, but it was fun and everyone had a good time. But again, good luck to the parents-to-be if they think it’s all plain sailing. Not bloody likely!

Yoga Challenge

A friend started a yoga challenge. I thought about doing it, too, but I inevitably fall short midway or near the end and feel like shit when I ignore the reminders or emails for the remaining days (or weeks) for hauling my ass off whatever flat surface it’s on. Butt, haha, I dug out an old disc from the our movie pile and thought I’d try to do it for as long as I can, no pressure. 

We got the disc in a newspaper in Sydney before 10yo was born and I might have watched it 3 times, including today, but everyone we knew got the paper for the free discs and bags and whatever. The best one was the double album of xmas songs by Bing Crosby and Dean Martin! We still listen to that in December.

Anyhoo, I cleared a space and contemplated my toes and my asshole because yoga makes all parts of us free and limber, especially in your own lounge room, and also my need of a mani-pedi as my dry heels slid across the carpet. The carpet is in need of a vacuum and there was all sorts of shit under the couch when I moved it. So much for the kids cleaning up when I ask them, and for not making weapons in their spare time.

I managed the beginner moves, no problem, except for the part where I’m on the floor and the tv is high on the wall and I’ve the sound off as I thought the boys were still sleeping, silly me, so I had to keep looking up for the next move. Until the end, that is, when she grabbed her ankles and kissed her ass goodbye in some weird, sex-slave pose that I didn’t bother with.

So, a win for this morning and maybe I’ll try again after work, maybe even in the same pants which I bought before we moved to The States and have probably also, only worn three times. And then who knows for the weekend, I’ve heard of wine yoga so maybe I’ll sign up for that challenge.

Yogi out.