Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Still here. Still liberating booze and tablecloths

It's been a while.

I'm sorry for that / you're welcome.

You see, I've been super busy tooling around on Facebook and Pinterest.

Saving / noting all the Festive stuffs I have no intention of actually doing.

Trawling Twitter and struggling to reduce my rambling to the maximum character limit.

No chance.  Not even after a bottle of bubbly when I, personally, find myself to be at my wittiest.

I've been really busy at work.  Working super hard trying to be respectable and mature and not use swears while dealing with grade school children.

It's been tough.

Trying not to use too many swears with my own children.


Created a decent back story to impress my high school peeps at our recent reunion.

Forgot my story before I even arrived.

Liberated a whole bottle of champagne for the single-glass toast on the school grounds.

Went through my old boarding house, and explained to the current boarders how and where we used to escape to smoke.

Liberated a tablecloth from the after party because it was in the school colours.  Obviously.

Spent a HUGE amount of time chastising myself for not blogging recently.

Broke the drought with this stellar effort, which I commenced so #1Hubby would go pick the kids up from school - because, BUSY BLOGGING.

Wheeled and dealed like a pro.

Stay tuned for next year's travel blogging hilarity, trying out a Bali hotel chain.

#1Hubby is psyched to actually be invited.  

We're both slightly less psyched because the kids are also invited.

Started a pre-reunion diet.


Multiple times.

Each day for about 6 weeks.

Started a pre-Bali Xmas diet.

Things are going amazingly well so far.

As in I started it today, and as of 2:48pm I have not failed.

But I have Googled "Calorie content of St Remy Brandy".

All the woo-ing and hoo-ing because it's like 100 calories per serve (so....200 for my big girl glass).

So anyway, I'm still here.

Not that anyone asked.

Attempting to continue exploiting my shit parenting on a more regular basis, once again.

You're welcome / my apologies.

I leave you with a pic of my recent hard core, fancy pants, birthday partying antics....

All of the class

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....


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.


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".


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.


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 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.

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.




Nailed it.

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


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"

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....

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