Thursday, August 25, 2016

Father's Day Gift Guide - How to nail it (you're welcome)

Father's Day is imminent.

In our family, we celebrate Mother's Day by Daddy taking the kids out and allowing yours truly some kid-free time.  It's the best way to reflect on the little darlings in their most positive light - when they're not there whining for food or justice over some perceived sleight from their siblings.

Father's Day is all about Dad spending quality time with his kids.  So, once again, Daddy takes the little darlings out in order to truly enjoy some memory making time with them.


Let me break it down for you, how we roll in the Parental Parody family on the big day....

Early, crack of dawn, still dark outside

Kids have been instructed not to wake me up, because it is Daddy's special day.  Go jump on him and shower him with love / elbows in ribs / shouting in ears over who has a better spot on top of his formerly sleeping form.

Once sufficiently and permanently roused from his slumber, he will shhhh them so that I am not disturbed, even though we both know I'm pretending to be asleep.

Then they'll attempt to make him breakfast.

Within 3 minutes #1Hubby will sagely decide to take them to Macca's for the breakfast of cheapskate champions at under $5 a head.

The day

I'll have already helpfully organised some meaningful family activities for #1Hubby to do with the kids, including but definitely not limited to....

Teach them, bond with them, plant some seeds and remove the weeds - it's a win/win for everyone!

Bored Board Games
Sadistically long ones.  Like Snakes and Ladders....just when you think the end is near, no, a bloody long snake sends you slithering back to the is the game that keeps on keeping on.

The park
I am deathly allergic to the park, and of all the days of the year, it is a Dad's domain on Father's Day.  I went once on Father's Day (clearly very early in our parenting years), and I was the only mother there. Never again.

Home theatre / concert / interpretive dance
Kids love nothing more than putting on a show.  Again, I am deathly allergic, therefore I will probably plant the seed and suggest an epic 3 part show that they can stage for their father.  In the shed.  So that I can enjoy some reality TV in peace.

The evening

This is where I truly step up to the plate - I cook dinner.  Just like every night.

If I'm lucky, #1Hubby will be hankering for takeaway in lieu of a roast dinner.

If he's lucky, I won't have consumed a great deal of wine by that stage, and may even do him the supreme honour of going out to collect it for him.

The gift

What do I gift the man who gifted me the three little darlings that I very affectionately (and, often, accurately) refer to as "The Feral Threesome"?

What gift for the man who, upon investigation, discovered that he does, in fact, have a history of multiple births in his family, and is, therefore, responsible for the Twin Tornado?

Here are some of my top picks that I'm tossing up from - don't let the name put you off, these bad boys are far from stupid....

Dead sexy.

Yours for the bargain price of $12.99 - amazingly, this is not completely sold out so close to Father's Day!

It screams practicality - I can't wait to go out with #1Hubby sporting this bad boy.  No longer will I have to carry around his keys, his sunglasses, his phone etc. etc. in my bag.

You guys, is this not the ultimate gift that very clearly portrays your sincere care and concern for the man in your life who is frequently claiming man flu / fever / possible contagion on account of the aforementioned flu and fever symptoms?

Cheapest medical equipment ever - at just $7.99 you could probably get one for each of the men in your life.

How have I not heard of this before?

This is probably more for me than him.

But who cares.  $6.99 is far cheaper than marital therapy and sleeping tablets, right?

All of the yes.

Look at that happy face?

Pretty sure this $4.99 bargain is ridiculously under-priced.

And if all of those winners fail to float his boat, the carton of wine that I just ordered online will be sure to do the trick.

Walkers Hill Shiraz - my new local WA find.  So good it will make up for all of my non-parenting on Father's Day

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

5 minutes : Part 2 (the other 2 and a half minutes for those who are sticklers for numbers and accuracy)

Refer to last week's post for a funny pic / excellent cake design

Alternatively titled - It's the little things

Alternatively alternatively titled - It's been a slow week

Alternatively alternatively alternatively titled - Because I can

Recycled alternatives from the last post because I'm an alternative kind of girl.

Not really.

Because I stuffed up and they are totally more appropriate on this post.

And they kind of almost make sense on this one.  As opposed to the previous one.

Following on from my previous post of woe, I bring you part 2.

So in light of recent shitty events, I was in need of a little pick me up.

Since wine was, tragically, not cutting it - I had to resort to other measures.

Including copious viewing of Facebook and You Tube clips, since I have exhausted all of my Foxtel recordings.

One such clip was of a Cesarean section where the bub was allowed to ease its own way out once the incision was made and the head was out.

It was truly delightful, touching, sweet, and also slightly gross since I was eating dinner at the same time.

Mstr7 came over to see what I was doing, and I was too engrossed in it all to even consider that maybe it wasn't the kind of thing he'd usually view.

No matter, he hung around, watched the full 5 minutes of joyous wonderment alongside me whilst displaying a number of entertaining facial expressions, before finally asking exactly what he was watching.

So I told him it was a c-section, which was how he and his twin sister were born, since they were the wrong way around to come out the normal way (I then very quickly moved on to explaining what a breech position is, before he could ask what the normal exit path was for a baby....I just couldn't).

In the interests of accuracy and full disclosure, I explained that, in my case, the second baby came out next.

And then, just for the fun of it, just because I could - I told him that he was born first, exactly 5 minutes before Miss7.  

It played out nothing like I'd expected it would.

He was not remotely jazzed by the idea of being a whole 5 minutes older.

She was not remotely pissed by the idea of being a whole 5 minutes younger.

Fingers crossed it has the desired / expected effect when they're a little older and every single second of age counts.

I was disappointed.  Let down.

I admit, I had attempted to enact sibling anarchy and failed.

Before you judge - this took place while #1Hubby was away working in Noumea.  

I know, right?  As if anyone goes there to work.  If I didn't manage our bank accounts I'd be convinced he'd booked his own junket just to get away from all the awesomeness that is our family unit / his workplace (he works from home, lucky guy!).

Anywho, on top of everything else that has happened recently, it was just an utterly shit 5 minutes of my day....

We were eating dinner at home, freezing cold (not in a hotel in Noumea, fancy wanky cocktail in hand).

And, the kids were whining and faux vomiting over the injustice that is being served broccoli and cabbage in the same meal.

And, I was all woeful over my current lack of taste wine-buds meaning I could not self-medicate my own way through the horror of cabbage, leading by example and masking the yuck-ness of it.

And, at that exact moment in the whole dinner process, the cat decided to become a serial killer, bringing in a very large dead rodent - either a ginormous mouse or a fairly impressive rat.

And, he chose to bat it around in full view, under our glass topped dinner table, fuelled by our yelps, squealing and gagging.

And, I had to man-up and attempt to calmly sweep the rodent outside while barking at the kids to STFU and eat their bloody cabbage and be thankful for it, because there are many starving rodents out there who would love the chance to eat it....

So, you know, I think I did pretty well.  All things considered.

#1Hubby has since returned home.  Scared to show his tropical island tan.  Happy to parent.

I've enjoyed a weekend of sleeping in.  

I'm all geared up for another week of attempting to regain my wine buds.

Fingers crossed.

Thursday, July 28, 2016

5 minutes : Part 1 (So, like 2 and a half minutes, or whatever)

Alternatively titled - It's the little things

Alternatively alternatively titled - It's been a slow week

Alternatively alternatively alternatively titled - Because I can

Oh bless you, TheFunnyPlace, for this shit cake that I shall bake for the next staff morning tea!

Anyway - this is Part One.  The woe is me, if you will.

It sets you up for how I totally nailed it on the whole "5 minutes" thing.

Essentially, all the titling and the alternatively titling is fairly irrelevant to this post.  So remember it for the part 2, ok?


So it's been a fairly crappy 6-odd weeks.

Please allow me to detail why I have not blogged of late...

You may or may not recall how, this time last year, I was whining for Australia about having severe adult chicken pox (having dodged it as a kid, back in the days before vaccines).  It was a massive poor-me pity fest, on account of me being psyched to finally score a school job that saw me enjoying school holidays off while still being paid, with my dearly beloved offspring.  Only to be ruined by the pox, first full pay school holidays.

Anyway, whatevs...I'm just saying....July school holidays can suck it - I'm putting myself in full quarantine come July 2017.

So, this year, in the week prior to the stupid non-event that is July school holidays, I had my tonsils out, half my uvea chopped off (Google it like I did you guys, turns out that drop shaped thing at the back of your throat is not your tonsils, it's a uvea.  Who knew?  What, you did?  Myeh, well I thought that was part of my tonsils.  In my infinite medical wisdom).

I also had my tongue cauterized, and some 'excess loose skin' removed from inside my throat while they were in there.

I'm an over-achiever, you know.

Also - please note the joy that is the knowledge that, even on the inside, I have excess loose skin...

Aced the surgery, so I left the hospital 24hrs after my operation.  Because I am nothing if not dense, and all the medical peeps querying why on earth I would be leaving did not suggest to me that I shouldn't be.

And I went back to work the next day, and the day after that - in a speaking role at the front desk, filling in for a work friend who was on leave.

Yep, I am that kind of stupid....

Anyway, I nailed all of that (with a little help from others who took on the speaking role).  At this point, I am a legend in my own lunchbox.

Endured a week and a half of school holidays from my ailing bedside (as a result of nailing all of the above...), dodging the kids' whiny demands for all of the school holidays movies, play dates, treats and outings that I had stupidly promised.

Then #1Hubby had to travel for work, so I drove to the #1Grandparents' house AWAY FROM THE CITY AND THE HOSPITALS, in order to fool them into thinking we were actually doing something / going somewhere for the school holidays (heaven forbid they have to do news in class and speak about what they did on the holidays - I had to give them something to work with).

... and within 5 minutes of arriving, 2 weeks post op (when all should be just about healed), I sprung a leak.

Bent over to load stuff into the fridge, and my mouth filled with the good red stuff.

Which I had to swallow, since the kids were all up in my face screaming for food / dobbing on each other.

I am nothing if not a good parent, yo.

And maybe now a self-inflicted vampire.

And you're welcome for that visual.

So I wound up ambulancing it straight back to the city.

And then on to another hospital with an Ear Nose and Throat specialist on duty.

I have a good friend who works as an ER Nurse at the second hospital, so I was all excited to text her to see if she was working - you know, such was my pain levels (non existent), and sense of emergency over the whole thing (it was one single bleed.  I was done with it, bored, ready to be entertained / chat).

She wasn't on matter...

BEST EMERGENCY ROOM EVA - I got to live the experience that others watch on those reality TV series about Emergency Rooms.  I do love me some 24 Hours in Emergency, and I have to admit, I was kind of bummed when they took me up to a ward after only a few hours.

For my ER entertainment, I had a guy in the bed next to me who was handcuffed to his bed, complete with 2 police escorts.  He was on full tanty, random, loopy mode.  Denying all substance consumption while rambling, ranting and raving like a pro in between telling everyone how he had 4 university degrees and could out scholar all of them.

I really, really wanted to pull the curtain between us, so that I could have the visual to match my audio.  But, alas, I am all about being appropriate.

So instead I had to rely on multiple trips to the toilet, walking verrrrrrry slowly past his cubicle to appease my desires.

And text my Mum so she would know how lucky I was, and how much she was missing out on.

Anyway, cut to now - and I'm fine.


My taste buds are screwed!

Two of my most loved and cherished things are suffering - 

1.  My coffee tastes like salt.  Instant coffee (I tried it twice in a panic, to make sure it wasn't just my much loved flat white's that had been tarnished) and the good barista made stuff.  

WTF?!  It seems to be getting better, slowly.  That or I'm convincing myself / building up a tolerance to what tastes like a quarter cup of pure salt.


Now this is a real true emergency - wine does not taste the same!

I'd been a smart cookie and planned my school holidays survival in advance - stocking up on my most favourite beverage.

None of it tastes like I remember it.

Dare I tastes.....bad.

Now, it goes without saying (but I will), that I'm giving it a red hot go - I'm trying everything to get my groove back.

I'm persevering through what seems to taste bitter, dry, unpleasant, just hoping that my taste buds will magically kick back into gear at some point, and see me downing the bottle with the wild abandon of 2 loved ones who just made up after an epic fight.

Seriously, this is the most devastating aspect of the whole saga, IMHO*.

Anyway - part 2 will detail what I've been doing to pass the time and amuse myself in lieu of good tasting wine and coffee.

**Mum - before you phone, text, email and Facebook me to ask - IMHO = In My Humble Opinion.

And WTF is "Where's The Fridge"....or, you know, something similar...

STFU everyone else.

Mum - STFU means Stop The Farting U'se...promise

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