Boobs Out Ladies- Let’s get some pics!

Always look after your boobs ladies.

Always look after your boobs ladies.

It’s that time of the year when I get a lot of messages through Facebook asking all of our female friends to post a symbol or word  [the theme seems to change every year, and I wont give this year’s away] on our Facebook wall to remember it is the week of breast cancer prevention. Sorry ladies, I haven’t done that yet, but…

…today  I have been for my regular mammogram and ultrasound. I was astonished when I realised that I have been doing this for a long time. Since 1996. This being said, I am pretty relaxed about it.

So today, I’m having my boob fed into the machine, the technician asks me to face the corner, relax my shoulder, hold this handle, look here, bend your knee, now hold still…and then I started to piss myself laughing (no, not literally). I am standing there with my tit in the sandwich press, envisioning myself a model in a photo shoot. Technically I am. I’m getting those photos to prove I still haven’t been slapped with the genetic C stick.

We also conversed about random stuff. How in 1996 I was sporting an A cup and how difficult those little titties can be to get in the sandwich press. How men need mammograms too, and how they can be a challenge.

I have to say, lightening the mood made it easier for me and easier for her. After my outburst of laughter we got about our business and got the job done.

On a serious note. Ladies, check your titties. Men, check your titties. Partners of Ladies and Men, check each other’s titties. If in doubt about any weird bits in titties, get another person to check it them out, preferably a professional, but feel free to ask others to feel your titties and give an opinion.

 

 

An Outfit for Every Occassion

Fun in the SunI laughed my arse off when Miss 8 asked her father for a wrestle in the backyard. Not because she asked, nope, this is a very regular occurrence at our place. I laughed because he told her to go and put her wrestling gear on.

“What wrestling gear?” I asked, “is it because she has a skirt on?” At this point I am thinking shit like how weird, what a prude not to let her wrestle in a skirt or in her undies if that takes her fancy, you prick for contributing to the washing pile without contributing to the actual act of doing the washing. It’s too fucking hot for clothes…

His reply “No, nothing to do with a skirt, just delays it for another 5 minutes”.

Most probably had to make sure his allies were all in the right place before he could leave his Game of War for the 15 minutes that he will hold their attention. Gotta get the work/life/app balance right after all.

The Weir Bridge between Yarrawonga and Mulwala at capacity in October 2016

Who’s Livin’ in the 70s?

Judgement warning!

We live in a fantastic tourist destination called Yarrawonga. Together with it’s twin town Mulwala our population swells at Christmas and Easter and every other long weekend Australia has to offer. When the town is full we locals are required to deal with traffic. We have two sets of traffic lights in town. One to allow pedestrians to cross the road in the main street, the other to regulate a single carriageway over our weir bridge.

The Weir Bridge between Yarrawonga and Mulwala at capacity in October 2016

The Weir Bridge between Yarrawonga and Mulwala at capacity in October 2016

It means we have lots of time to watch people driving past while the whole main street is almost at a standstill. I usually shop early or late to avoid this, but not this time.

So, here I am, sitting in traffic. I notice a lady in her car smoking with her window down. I notice because I am still a little bit envious of people who can still smoke in their cars, in fact I am envious of people who smoke (old habits die hard). Then I notice a dog jumping around in the back seat. BUT then I notice a girl in the  front seat. She can’t be much older than my daughter (8), and she is eating some sort of take away food.

Fucking Hell Lady!! What are you thinking? Is that your kid you are slowly killing? If I asked you to slowly poison your dog, would you participate in the experiment? Do you think it is 1979 when my parents would simultaneously start the ignition and light a fag before we drove anywhere?

It has been illegal to smoke with a minor in the car with a minor since 2010,. It is also very bad manners to smoke while someone is eating. Even when I was not ashamed to smoke in public I would never smoke in the presence of anyone who was eating, let alone my kid who relies on me to keep them safe and preserve their life.

Now I am all about being a queen and preserving the sisterhood by not judging, but sorry, in this case I cannot help it.

Not good enough Queeny, not good enough!

 

Its not me it’s you.

Hey you.

Yes you.

The one who is always complaining about customer service.

Have you ever looked in the mirror?

Have you seen the face that you present to those who are unfortunate to serve you?

How about smiling at your server.

Go on, give it a red hot go.

You know you can do it.

I promise your face wont break.

Is that your mouth turning up at the corner?

Can I see a glint in your eye?

I’m sure I heard a friendly word just now.

How’s the world looking?

Smile.

Be friendly.

Your world will change.

Promise.

cows-god-and-lego

Cows, God and Lego

 

cows-god-and-legoOver a drink before dinner last night, dearest hubby and I got on to the topic of health and food and the fact that we probably should be giving our bodies an alcohol free day after the madness of Christmas and New Year.

For whatever reason, we got onto the topic of cow’s milk. It got weird as we discussed the benefits of fattening a calf with the stuff and how all mammals have tits and how humans prefer the cow variety of milk even over their own type. Hubby confessed to having tasted the human stuff back in breastfeeding days, it weirded him out.  But each day he slops some juice of cow boob in his morning coffee. I told him about how I had watched a clip from the UK where PETA tricked some people into trying dog’s milk and how hilarious their reactions were. (Read more and check the clip for Barkers Milk here).

So, where am I going with this? I explained how after I had watched this clip it made me question the meaning of life, the universe and everything. It made me wonder, why do Jews eat meat and dairy separately and why do Hindus revere the cow? Google threw this at me;

In religion. In Hinduism, the cow is thought to be sacred, or deeply respected. Hindus do not worship cows, although they are held in high esteem. The reason has to do with the cow’s agricultural uses and gentle nature.

The more I read, the more I found that it is the life giving goodness of the cattle that is respected, they are gentle creatures who produce life giving milk and can be used to assist with other parts of agriculture, like a bull pulling a plow. Which leads us to the next strange twist in our conversation. Religion!

Oh hell! Oh shit! I have crossed the boundary! Dad told us to never discuss politics or religion and here I go. Convo went like this…

Me: Whatever you believe, religion is geography. Everyone wants to know why, and using something we can’t see, but trust, means we can make up some ripper stories to help our kids learn. It doesn’t matter where you live, there are lessons to be found in every culture. It might be written in a bible (he is a very lapsed Catholic), or it might be the stories handed down by Aboriginal Elders as Dreamtime. Essentially it is just helping us to observe the laws of survival and guiding us to be good people at the same time….

Him: Refers to some Catholic bible story which my brain failed to register due to being afraid of brainwashing.

Me: You can still quote that, it must have worked.

Him: Gives me a strange look. Then asks a bit about what I believe…

Because of where I was born, and who I was born to, I have been bought up with Christian values and have been given the luxury of participating in Christmas and Easter without the commitment of going to church. I have never been christened. I don’t usually have an opinion other than it is great to have ceremonies for births, deaths and marriages, it helps people to cope. When I think about God, I see a massive human form sitting up in the sky playing Lego with us, creating a world of wonder and experimentation and destruction.

So in our God created Lego world we have cows. She is placid enough to sit around and get her boobs pulled so we can use her essence to assist with our living. She produces offspring which we can kill easily for meat and we use her shit on the garden to help our veggies grow. The cow was created for our survival.

Thank God for cows and Douglas Adams who told us the answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything in his famous book Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, the answer, of course is 42. Perhaps one day we will know the question.

 

chrismas-bonbonsThere have been years when the thought of Christmas looming just made me grumpy and anxious.
Working in hospitality meant that by the time Christmas finally got here, the carols, the cleaning up after the bonbons and the people who are not the best behaved under the influence of alcohol had worn on my nerves to the extent that they were like the little popper in the bonbon, just waiting for someone to tug on them before they cracked.

Then there was the pressure of finding pleasure in shopping! I fucking hate dislike shopping.  That is all!

This year we have got it sorted. We have taken the stress out of the day. Instead of shopping for shit that will remain in the packaging for years to come, we have opted for a $10 Secret Santa for all the people over the age of High School. Shopping for the small kids was easy as pie. I scheduled a whole day and made a list. It wasn’t fun, but it did not see me sitting in my hot car somewhere breathing into a brown paper bag.

our-actual-christmas-tree

Our Tree

The food is organised. I never stress about cooking as this is the part I love. Our kids are the perfect age for building some excitement in the lead up. I let them decorate the tree by themselves. I did not move one of the baubles to a more appropriate place. It is theirs and it is beautiful xx

Today I finish work for the break and have a couple of days to casually wrap those few gifts we have bought for the little people. I can slowly tidy the house and prepare it for the influx we are expecting on the day. I will collect the food I have ordered and make those last minute purchases of fresh good.

Three more sleeps until a relaxing celebration of family and food.

Merry Christmas my friends xx

 Edit: Parent Log: 23/12/16, 8:49pm. My Children are behaving beyond expectation. I am unsure whether to be afraid or proud. For now I choose proud. I have taken them both shopping separately for their sibling and they are both old enough to understand how important it is to keep a secret if it will make the surprise better. 

 

reflection-of-sadness-and-happinessThis post was written back in February. I couldn’t publish it then as I wasn’t in the right place to share. 

I am fantastic at the brave face. Those who have ever suffered with depression and/or anxiety know the one. The one where the smile is firmly planted, but the heart feels like a huge chunk of lead, pulling down shoulders. Those I love will cop an angry glance, a cross word or an all out fucking tirade.

I have various ‘excuses’ for my behaviour, which range from (several) family illnesses, breakdowns in said family communication, fear of not being ‘good enough’- (not quite sure what I need to be good enough for as I am AWESOME) and lack of sleep caused by a combination of over thinking, not getting to bed on time and horrible night sweats.

I came home from yoga this morning thinking woohoo it’s going to be a great day.Within an hour I am losing my shit because no one ever fucking listens. Miss 7 is in tears because she doesn’t want to do her reader that should have been done last night. Master 4 is rubbing her nose in the fact that she has to go to school, but as a preppy, he gets Wednesdays off for a while. Hubby cares that the whole neighbourhood can hear me. I don’t give a fat rat’s arse.

I hate angry me. I don’t want to be angry me. I keep trying to turn it around by telling myself that I cannot change the circumstances, only how I deal with them. Then I fuck it all up again.

I am not setting out to be off my head always happy, that isn’t realistic. I just don’t wish to be the lunatic who loses her shit to be heard by those closest to me.

Ironic, isn’t it, that the same people who push our buttons are the one’s who give us a reason for living. The same beings who will always be there for us no matter what. The people who make us happy and sad, the one’s who’s failures and triumphs give us as much grief or joy as if they were our own.

8 months on….

Lots of meditation, some different pills, ignoring other peoples issues and a life changing decision to change my work life balance. I am feeling better. My now 8 year old has even noticed that I am not yelling. I feel like there are new beginnings in the air.

I just need to work out which path to walk next.