It’s Oscar Night

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I don’t remember ever being able to, or wanting to, watch the oscars live. But with my throat about to implode and my head wanting to get in on that action, there is nothing else for me to do. There is nothing else on tv, and with kids running around I can’t watch any of my dvr’ed shows until after bed time. So I have gulped down my ice cream, because its good for my throat, and I have my honey and lemon, so I will probably sit on the couch for the next 6 hours.
There is an ad on now for whitening (bleaching) teeth. Yesterday I used a strawberry mixed with baking soda, because (I’m gullible) I read an article about the acid in strawberries being good for de-staining. Is that a word? Anyhoo, I don’t know if it was merely the baking soda, but my teeth did look clean and perhaps a bit whiter. But my gums weren’t on fire, and my teeth weren’t sensitive like they have been in the past after using whitening strips.
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Look at those pearly whites!
The next ad is for a shampoo brand, hashtag want that hair. Hashtag, I have that hair but without the chemicals. It has been 2 years since I last used commercial shampoo, and my hair is the most beautiful it has ever been in my life. So soft, shiny and clean, and since my hairdresser showed me how to style it, I love it. Take that, hashtag!

Now back to the red carpet.
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!So tell us, who are you wearing! Well, I found this pretty dress at a vintage store in Seattle, and I don’t remember if it even has a tag. I do know that it isn’t lined, and I was sitting on the petticoat netting all during the evening. My personal assistant decided against any form of shape wear, partly due to time constraints, also to body constraints, and finally because of the possibility of the netting getting caught against the fabric of the butt-huggers, so… those legs? All me, baby!
Oooh! Kathryn Heigel just came on tv, haha! Speaking of, where is she these days? Besides vapor rub ads? I loved her in 27 Dresses, that is Husband’s fave movie.
Back to the red carpet, and my fave dress is, Bette Midler’s. Usually I like a Gown, but I didn’t really see any. Perhaps there were plenty but I was distracted by the older pair of boobs hanging hither, thither and everywhere with minimal black draping behind Ryan Seacrest. Erm, no thank you.
Cut to post bed time, and Husband and I are ready for our dvr’ed shows.
Good luck to all the nominees, but I was the real winner on the night.

It’s NOT a Man Cold

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It’s totes legit. First of all, it’s me that is sick, not Husband, and second of all, I have been doing everything I could think of to avoid getting sick this week, rather than declaring myself useless and retiring to the luxury of uninterrupted sleep. Husband would vomit just thinking about the amount of apple cidar vinegar I have consumed this week. I’ve been taking echinacea and stinging nettle (for allergies) plus sachets-a-plenty of vitamin mixes. I’ve rested when possible, though it’s rarely probable. But today I felt simply awful, and was worried that I’d be sick or pass out behind the wheel on the way home from swimming. The boys were devastated not to go out for dinner, but I placated them with frozen pizza – thank you Costco – and after inhaling some ibuprofen, I actually felt a lot better. Better enough to eat some pizza as well, and warm enough without aches and shakes to move away from the fire. I sure know how to make a mofo’ing fire.
Bed time will be bearable, and then I can get into my own bed with the electric blanket.. I’m sucking down a goddamn litre of tea, and if I put on enough lip cream, my lips won’t dry out too much while I breathe loudly and unladylike through my mouth. With any luck, I will look as put together as Kathryn Heigel does in the vix ads.
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Maybe.

Some days are just blog posts waiting to be written

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I went to Costco yesterday and dropped a financial crisis on groceries. Bloody hell! I only bought 2 books for the kids, none for myself, no clothes or bedding, no flowers or WINE, actually I did buy some plug in night light emergency flashlights that Husband has been wanting ever since we saw that crazy cartoon movie about the fish who turns into a girl and falls in love with another 6yo that has a bunch of celebrity voices (pongo? or something), but come on. I only bought (mostly) food, and none of it junk except for the frozen pizza. I suppose the 10lb bags of everything add up in more than just weight. Good grief.
While licking my wallet’s wounds, I had to call our insurance company as our car was rear-ended over the weekend (no injuries), and while our insurance agent is helpful, sometimes he takes bloody ages and I’ve got shit to do. “But Mummy, I wanted chocolate and an ice-cream” in tearful accusation from the back didn’t help, either. Then to the body shop for a repair estimate. Then get that bloody ice cream, which mostly went onto clothes and the seat belt (don’t tell my husband) and then I had to finish because “I’m dirty”, read adorable. And all that after going to the DMV. Actually the DMV was the easiest part, so easy in fact, that I laughed as we left and then danced in the car.
We were actually too early for school pick up, so I rang the other insurance company while my sodden mess fell asleep, and then the car battery died because someone had changed the light switch to ‘screw you’ from the more placid ‘auto shut off so your battery doesn’t have the life sucked out of it when you most need to arrive somewhere on time’ setting. So yeah. Turns out the AAA guy was the same guy who jumped Husband’s car a few weeks ago, so we had a lot to talk about. Oops, I forgot to congratulate the guy because he is about to propose. Good luck, big guy!
Something awesome that happened yesterday, is the fact that I remembered to put the esky (coolerrrrrr) in the car for the cold stuff with some freezer blocks. It saved the meat, yogurt, frozen peas, berries, soup, cheese, and pizzas from certain death, or rather my family, because we still would have had to eat it after that kind of investment.
Fast forward to dinner, and the boys ate what they’d been given without arguing about it – can I get some sunlight through the clouds and angels tooting the brass section – and no bullshit after bed time, so I’d earned that warmed croissant with melted chocolate rocks inside. Oooh baby. But the after glow was ruined by nips of apple cidar vinegar, boo. There will be no man cold while Husband is away, I will defend mine own with vitamin sachets and errrrrbal remedies, and I will prevail, if only so I can enjoy my wine and not be congested and embarrassed at the soiree I’m attending on Saturday night. There is no point wearing a pretty hat if people can’t take their eyes off my conspicuously tired eyes and leaking nose. Ahem.
In other news, 3yo is having his tonsils out next week, and that will be far worse if I am also under the weather.
But that was it, my bloggably forgettable day, that could have been worse but I would prefer it to have been better. I am not looking to beat the high score any time soon.

#lettermo

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So, I have written the 4th, I think, letter as part of the Month of Letters dealio and am doing a fine job of a little bit interesting without too much personal detail that could be sold to an identity thief, or even just a Joe on the street with a modem (do the kids even have modems these days?). But really, people could probably find out stuff about me without trying too hard. I googled myself and found quite a bit.
I have provided my name and address on the envelope in the spirit of good faith, and with that they could see a map of my house, comments I’ve made on other blogs or facebookers, people I know or may know or may live with, and my previous address/es. If they pay a bit of money they could probably find my drivers license or arrest record, and if the shows on television are anything to go by, and I’m sure they are, they could find my registered vehicles and probably where my kids go to school. And therefore who elses kids they attend with, then find the parents online as well, then my details by association. What the hey, people? Have they no legitimate past times to keep them occupied? Puh-lease, get a life.
I like to think none of the above, and that they will take 2 minutes out of their busy day to read my letter, chuckle over what constitutes humour and think about whatever I’ve written, then mention it to a handful of people who may or may not mention it to another handful of people. And in one of those 5 handfuls, maybe someone will have time to do something similar, or think of someone else who would enjoy doing it. So I won’t write about the pile of doggy do-do I drove through today (that was in the middle of a car park, good grief), or the tea and crackers spilt on the floor of the backseat of the car, or what Husband would say if he knew about it, because that stuff would put someone off. That stuff is not newsworthy. I will stick to the “just put my kids to bed” pick up line, or the “have you been watching much of the olympics?” catch phrase, because that stuff is gold. I know they’ll want a second date with this pen pal after that, at which point I will have to come up with some new material.

A Month of Letters

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I found #lettermo on a tweet from Joe Hill, son of Stephen King and glorious writer in his own right. I googled it and thought it was a great idea.
I write occasional letters and send cards in mailing boxes with birthday presents, but a letter a day for a month sounded more significant. As much as I’d like to send personal letters to my peeps, though, they know I’m busy and I’m not as busy as they are actually, so I’m not writing to them.
I wanted to send a letter to some of my school teachers, not high school teachers because I think teenagers kind of suck a bit, so they probably wouldn’t want to hear from me anyway, but I thought the primary school teachers might. But I couldn’t find them on facebook or the school websites or anything; there wasn’t even a list of current staff members. Sheesh! So I looked up various spellings of my own name in the white pages, and voila! There were a bunch of people with my name in variable spellings, and, there were plenty of people with my parents’ names as well. So those random, potential identity thieves or crotchety old folk will be the recipients of my daily mail. Hopefully they will be pleased to find some sincerity in their mail box alongside the usual bills and catalogued rubbish. Or not. Perhaps they will be mightily offended to find more unsolicited nonsense, in which case, screw them.
I have enjoyed writing the letters so far, though they are not so much interesting literary masterpieces as much as they are the musings of a tired woman who may or may not have battled with the kids at bedtime, and who is probably counting the calories to see if she will take a glass of wine to the couch. Perhaps those crotchedy bastards will wonder why I bothered to send them such simple nothings, or maybe the poetic counterparts will appreciate a small look into someone’s life, and send me a small look into theirs.
This whole idea has spawned some cool ideas of what to send to whom, but they come to me in the mornings, and I do the writing in the evening when I’m preoccupied and tired, so maybe next time.
I thoroughly recommend A Month of Letters.

Northern Exposure

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Do you remember the show about a town in Alaska? I loved that show, and was so happy when Joel and Maggie finally got together. But then the show fizzled. One particular episode I remember was when Maggie found a letter to herself from her teenage self, and the teenage self appeared and Ed saw her/it, and the young Maggie was pissy with the old Maggie because she hadn’t achieved what she thought she would. What would my young self think about my old self?
My young self would not be fazed by the general state of mayhem that our house exists in, because my room was generally a bit of a pig sty.
I think a slightly older young self would be surprised that I have kids, because I didn’t always want them.
An even slightly older version of my young self would probably be surprised that I got married. For a while I was convinced that I would never marry, because the people I had been hanging around with were a bunch of assholes and I didn’t think that other people would be very different. Eventually I phased the assholes out, but still didn’t think there was a Mr Right for me. I also phased out the asshole who said my standards for Mr Right were impossible. In your face, asshole!
For a while, my younger self thought I’d be a teacher, but then I decided I didn’t like kids. Well, the teaching thing didn’t work out, but I don’t mind my own kids, most of the time.
I think my teenage self would be happy that I’m happy, and am still writing, and glad that I’m not hanging around with assholes. That’s the best part, really, at least until the boys are teenagers.

Honeymooning

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My parents have left/are leaving/are going to leave (have you left yet?), I’m pretty sure they left yesterday, for a holiday in New Zealand. I don’t think they have had a long holiday for a while. They visit my sister interstate occasionally, and do mini breaks as well. And they did visit us over Christmas a few years ago, so actually, they seem to have it pretty dang good. But I digress. They are on holidays, as of… now. They are going to rent a campervan and drive around the south island for 10 days or thereabouts. Husband and I did exactly the same thing for our honeymoon, coming up to 8 years ago, oh how things have changed in that time. Mum and Dad drove to the coast for their honeymoon, 36 or 37 years ago, and actually, it is their wedding anniversary…now. Happy Anniversary you two! xoxo
It sounds like Mum and Dad will be going to many of the same places we visited, like the glacier, Milford Sound, perhaps the hot springs, Queenstown and a few other places along the way.
When Husband and I holidayed there, there were no guard rails, but lots of sheer drops beside the road. There were no billboards, and plenty of sheep. I can only assume there is much of the same there now. I bought a scrap book at the airport just before we flew out, so I could record funny anecdotes for posterity. Let me grab it to jog my memory, because babies have erased much of my memories and high-functioning brain cells.
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We drove to Hamner Springs, but I don’t think Mum and Dad are going there.
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We pulled over on the first night, and it turned out that we were within walking distance to a bit of a drop off.
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Mum and Dad better watch where they are going!

We went to the Franz Josef glacier, and found a great campsite. While we were there, one of the camp staff told us that the mountain and glacier were usually completely covered in fog, but there were exceptional views on that day. And being on the glacier, was so amazing! Husband wore shorts, totes whatevs.
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I think Mum and Dad are going to the Fox glacier. I hope they are more organised than we were, because we got the last 2 places of a tour on a day that was otherwise completely booked. Also, I hadn’t charged our camera, so was buying disposables everywhere.
The next day we made it to Queenstown, and had the luxury of hotel showers, carpet and bedding.

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I don’t think Mum and Dad are going to stay in a hotel, they might be a bit senile.
After kayaking, fish and chips and walking around the town, we left and found a charging adaptor for the camera.
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We did our own Lord of the Rings tour…
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…I wonder if Mum and Dad will do an actual tour, I know they love the movies. They might even get adventurous and (ew, put it out of your mind) sleep under the stars.
Then we went to Milford Sound, and I know my folks will be impressed by the Homer Tunnel.
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The next day, Husband said he would go for a swim. Well, that turned out differently than he thought, as he bloody well nearly got frost bite on his toes after walking over the uber shallow tidal area, before legging it back to the van. He said it was almost 2 hours before he could properly feel his toes again. He had a better time in Invercargill.

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We did a tour of the Speights Brewery, which I’m sure Mum and Dad won’t miss, and then we stayed in Larnach Castle. I think Mum and Dad are going there, too.
After that, we went horse riding on the beach, which was more like The Village People after a heavy night out, rather than the romantic interlude we joked about when we first met.

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We did a few other towns, and that was it. It was the best 10 days imaginable, and we certainly hope to retrace our steps with the boys one day, because 2 weeks in a campervan with kids is the best way to preserve happy memories.

The Duality of Stay at Home Parenthood

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Life is an enigma, wrapped up in a mystery, or a dirty towel, at the best of times, but there are some things that are so perfect in their hypocrisy, as to be astounding.
One of these conundrums is laundry. It must be done, over and over, is never ending, can feasibly or probably be the EXACT SAME THING or things more than once, in a day if you are very unlucky. If the process stops, there is a rapid break down in world order.
“Oh honey, let the towels fold themselves tonight,” said no one ever.
H: “Why are you doing more laundry?”
M: “So I can, *sigh*, do more laundry.” Laundry is one of those staircases that goes in a circle. Are we going up or down? The only clear answer is that we are going insane. Penrose stairs, that’s apparently what they are called. Well, I have a Penrose laundry. Are the baskets growing or shrinking? Clean or dirty? Half empty or half full? The answer, clearly, is that laundry should go do itself, in no uncertain terms.
My kitchen also has a case of the Penrose Stairs. I clean it in order that more mess can be made, as often by me as by anyone else. I clear the benchtops in order to use them for something else. Rarely is there an opportunity to clean for cleaning sake. More likely for shit sake. Husband might beg me to do it, but there would be no clear space for his grovelling elbows.
I won’t even mention the bathrooms. Good grief!

Back to the Grind

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After what feels like an age of laying around in fluffy blankets and eating ham, getting back into our normal daily routine has been tough. The couch is still in the playroom and it’s just the right distance from the fire for my toes. And who can resist tickling a cuddly monkey as he doses in front of the box?
Anyhoo…

Getting dressed is no fun when there is no sun;
I want some hot tea, but Husband’s not home to get it for me.
I want to have a nap but have to take a – drive (haha) to school to get the boys and then prepare for their noise.
Oh where is my blanket, I just want to be warm but, it’s time to get in the car. Thank goodness school ain’t too far because im ready for bed and a nice glass of red.

Doomsday starts now

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During the harrowing snowventure that this past weekend was, we ate through 85% of our fresh food and worried not about going shopping. But then we got the dreaded phone call that school was cancelled for another day, and things got dire all of a sudden. “No school tomorrow, we may start medicating.” I decided to attempt some homemade bread. I knew that my career as a stay at home doomsday prepper hinged on this one loaf. Having attempted to make bread only twice before – but in a bread machine – I had very little experience and almost no knowledge on what was supposed to happen.

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I have no doubt that this was not supposed to happen.

After dinner and boys’ bed time and a glass of wine, I attempted a 2nd loaf, since the first one died in the ass. It had no taste or anything else that bread is supposed to have. I realised after breaking up the loaf for Toad Hall that I had left out a handful of ingredients. Hmmm. So I put what was missing into the 2nd loaf, but it turned out just as bad. It also didn’t rise at all, it was merely another stone of cooked dough. I was using my own fan-forced oven, not a solar oven created in the backyard with a spare tyre, what gives?
Turns out that I don’t care to keep trying, at least with that particular recipe, or perhaps I need even more wine, next time. And perhaps next time I should use a solar oven. That way it will already be in the backyard when I feed it to the chickens.