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Monday, August 31, 2015

Why beer makes me a better wife

I'm not an avid consumer, because I dare not cheat on my beloved wine and vodka too often.

There are a number of ways in which beer makes me more awesome.

I'm certain it makes me more attractive to #1Hubby after a few.

It certainly makes him more agreeable to my various purchases and travel plans!

It also saves my bacon when I am a less than stellar wife....


Example




This arrived on my doorstep early last week.

#1Hubby does enjoy seeing the benefits of blogging, and so he eagerly stood over my shoulder while I opened a package involving a beer company.

Then let out a few yelps of excitement when he discovered ACTUAL BEER inside.

It was like the clouds had parted and the sun was shining from within the box while angels sang.

Then he read over my shoulder as the words FATHERS DAY were prominently and clearly mentioned more than once on the included Media Release.


Say what now?


Our mouths dropped open in sync.  

I could see the cogs ticking as he came to realise what had just dawned on me...

I had completely forgotten Fathers Day.

I know, I know - how could I?  What with all the advertising telling me what a sexy, early 30's dude, with a 3 day growth and smouldering but clear and wrinkle/bag free eyes (who has clearly never had children because he does not show the obvious signs of parental wear and tear)....would want for FATHERS DAY.

My brain was going oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap DENY.

And so I've spent the past few days rushing around trying to think of SOMETHING to gift #1Hubby for Fathers Day on behalf of The Feral Threesome.

I'VE GOT NOTHING.

Short of gifting him a kidney in the event that he may need it one day.

And I'm not totally sold on the idea of gifting a vital organ to him.  He is older.  He's had more time with his bits and pieces.  Why should the young (that's me) have to sacrifice?

Anyway, I gave in.

I went to #1Hubby on Saturday to admit defeat and ask what he would like, because clearly I'd run out of time to find the supposedly well planned, carefully thought out, and definitely not forgotten and panic purchased gift.  You know, for Fathers Day that was "yesterday".

GET THIS....

Action Shot.  From someone who is so organised and prepared, we celebrated Fathers Day a week early....


He thought the Tooheys Cooking Handbook that came with the beer was his gift.

And he was happy with that.

And he plans to use it.

AS IN COOK.


So now it's my turn for the clouds to part.  There is a definite glow above his head (I'm not going to say a halo, because he hasn't yet made good on his plans to cook).  And I'm pretty sure there were angels singing sweetly in the background.

Oh, and Fathers Day is not until THIS WEEK.

(You're welcome for the heads up, anybody else who has failed at Fathers Day as spectacularly as I, and also thought it was a week earlier than it is).

I am like the hat  trick of awesome wife and mother and all of that stuff.

If you are short of a gift idea - why not get them a gift that keeps on giving....to you.  Like the Tooheys Cooking Handbook.

It is clearly associated with beer, so they'll love it.

Meanwhile, you can consider it payback for the washing machine / broom / towel set / slow cooker that the man in your life has gifted you in the past.

A two-fer!
Win win!





Monday, August 24, 2015

Shaping young minds and busting a move (and possibly a hip)

Image source

A lot of people have commented on how exhausted I've looked the past couple of weeks.
Bastards.



It's been a crazy couple of weeks, both at work and at home.

I'm pretty sure it's involved some of my best and worst parenting - simultaneously.

First there was work - the annual school Book Fair.

I was a Book Fair virgin, which seems an appropriate analogy, as I felt decidedly violated once it was over.

I was out the door before 7am and home after 5pm each day, whiney Feral Threesome in tow.

It was a costly experience, in more ways than one.

I spent a small fortune on books for my own kids, just to shut them up while I worked.

I spent a stupid amount of time fretting over why the Minions posters weren't selling, why we were selling so many blue macaron erasers as opposed to pink, and wondering who was taking the "Final Copy" notes from the books.

School Library Officers - I salute you.  It was my first one, and I will spend the next 365 days recovering.

It was all for the children and so I sucked it up, self medicated with wine of an evening, and I did it.

Because I am nothing if not selfless when it comes to educating and shaping young minds.

And it was in my job description. Heh.

I didn't have more than a day to bask in the after-glow, as it was very quickly followed by a bit of a parenting guilt trip.

Upon a quick moment of self-reflection during an ad break, intending to once again congratulate myself on going above and beyond for the children, I realised that I'd been so consumed by making the Book Fair a success, that I hadn't actually spent much quality time with my children.

And of course they all looked so bloody angelic and quiet and well behaved when I had this realisation - because they were asleep.

And so, in the morning when they were far less angelic and quiet, I promised the world to them come Friday night - there would be bonding, fun, board games, the works!

Then Friday night rolled around and I was half way to the bottom of a bottle of Mumm (my post Book Fair treat) when I was reminded of my promises.

I vowed to do better on Saturday.

Saturday came and I steeled myself for the most fun that could be had minus wine.

I had an impromptu skipping contest with Miss6.

Totally wiped the floor with her.

Was all smug about my good, healthy parenting, and also my ability to beat a child at something moderately athletic.

Buoyed by my smugness, I then commenced a 3 hour dance off with Miss9, who then tagged in Mstr6 and Miss6.

It was on like Donkey Kong as we found the "Greatest Hits of the 90's" marathon on one channel, and "The Hottest Hits Right Now" on the other - my two greatest musical loves.

Miss9 was raising the roof.

Miss6 was dropping it like it was hot.

We were all Gangnaming with wild abandon.

Mstr6, I think, did a little break dancing.  I think.  That or he was cleaning the floor his head.  Truthfully, knowing him, both are viable.

It was a raging success.

The kids had a blast.  I busted a move and taught them all about modern rap versus 90's rap (it's just a little bit faster and the clothes aren't quite as baggy).  I ensured they would have a degree of street cred come school disco time.

EDUCATED

EXERCISED

BONDED

Nailed it.


I was clearly the most awesome, hippest parent in the land.

Was.

Until yesterday morning when I attempted to raise my body from the bed.

And suddenly it was more about a potentially busted hip than being hip.

Clearly, at some point, a steam roller has driven over my person, reversed up and gone back over me, before parking on my legs.

Dear Vodka Gods.  Everything hurts.  It all aches.

It's like a killer hangover without the booze and drunken shenanigans the night before.

Worst of all, the kids are totally up for making it a weekly "family night" kind of gig.

Through the pain, I could only communication in a feeble, kind of Yoda-esque way.  I was all "Hmmm...great....that would...be...."

Next time I will stick to board games (which I like to refer to as bored games...because there's only so many times you can pass Go and collect $200 without wanting to poke your eyes out with the plastic thimble...).

I can't wait until they're old enough for drinking games....




Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Off the grid

My latest absence (and associated flimsy excuse) is because I am going OFF THE GRID.

Becoming SELF SUFFICIENT.

Except for booze, because who has the time to wait for all that brewing and distilling and watching a few bubbles rise and getting ridiculously excited - like the equivalent to popping a bottle of France's finest.

Myeh.  So we're calling it SEMI SELF SUFFICIENT.

Jumping on the coconut oil bandwagon has really helped.

So many uses.

Some probably not intentional.

Lucky it is organic.

I'd also like to point out that my new off the grid / semi self sufficient status disclaimer also excludes electronic devices.

Obviously.

I am only human.

It's probably more of a I am LAZY and couldn't be bothered going out for takeaway food, so I COOKED INSTEAD thing.

True story - took me less time to cook than to get my "going out in public" clothes on and restore peace and order when the whiney three fight to come along on a takeaway run as if we're going to Disneyland....

But I'm going with the far more impressive statement - I AM GOING OFF THE GRID AND BEING SEMI SELF SUFFICIENT.

Details, details.

It all started when I wanted dip with my wine and cheese, and was too LAZY and not prepared to drive after a couple glasses of Dan Murphy's finest non-French cheap bubbles.

#1Hubby was completely and outrageously useless.

Refused to drive.

Refused to walk.

Totally unhelpful and not doing his bit with the hunting and gathering.  

So I MADE my own dips - plural!

Beetroot - half arsed pic because the kids love beetroot dip and I turned my back for 5 seconds (it was more like 10 minutes - but it was Facebook distraction time so it's like equating dog years to human years or something similar), and the little darlings had polished almost all of it off.

They denied it, of course, but the purple rings around their three smirking mouths gave them away.



For my revenge I informed them that beetroot was a vegetable, and revelled in their outrage and disgust. Hah!




For my next trick, I made  FIRE!  HOMMUS!

Am now a food photographer, what with my subtle and genius product placement


All of the yums and back patting for making it myself, preservative free, and indulging in a vegetable (chick peas are veg, right?) to totally balance out the soft cheese and cheap bubbly.

BODY.  TEMPLE.

Then last night, because I was on a roll, I decided to create the Indian takeaway we were jonesing for.

HUZZAH!



Calling time on my short but illustrious career as a Food Photographer.
Forgot to use the flash
Stood over the pic and literally over-shadowed my creation



Am now considering opening up a dodgy, unlicensed, unofficial takeaway joint at my place.

No menu.

Just cooking what I feel like on any given day, courtesy of my Tefal Cuisine Companion.

Because it literally took me less time to prepare my Butter Chicken, home made garlic Naan Bread, and equally home made Raita - than it would have taken #1Hubby and I to have a Parliament Question Time style childish debate over who should be going to get the takeaway.  And then arguing further over what to have.  Debating whether or not the person picking up the takeaway has the right to choose cheese naan over garlic, to dictate poppadoms or no.

Seriously, biggest controversy of our marriage after the kids.

Anyway today I'm going all out - making a cake...wait for it....THAT DOESN'T COME FROM A BOX!


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