Tag Archives: kids

All Mums are Arseholes

I’ve just published Madly Menopausal Mum and had a bit of a parent brag at how I’m not such a bitch now that I’m getting some sleep. 

Then this happens. BoyChild wishes to spend $6 on fucking waste of money in app purchases and I said no. Money doesn’t grow on trees dude and I don’t care if it’s yours, you’ll regret it when you want to buy something awesome like Lego!

He pisses off to his room and locks the door. I politely knock and ask to chat about it (read: bang on door and say let’s talk!). No, you are so mean. I hate you. I don’t want to spend my money on something else, this is all I want…I notice we need a new roll of toilet paper and go and get one while he’s telling me off…eventually he smells the bacon and gingerly exits bedroom due to hunger.

Proud of my effort today. Should get about one hours peace as he inherited stubbornness from yours truly.

When they hate me most I am doing my best parenting!

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!

 

Old Mum?

Today I slipped into another birthday with not much fuss. I had the usual text messages, phone calls and posts on my facebook wall.

I went to Nanna’s for morning tea, as per a normal Monday, on the way to my three year old’s swimming lesson. Now here is the part I have to share.

Not long before we are about to leave, a friend of Nan’s pops in. Nan introduces me as her granddaughter, Dad’s daughter (Dad is with me), I introduce master three. They sit and chat, whilst Aunty and I chat aside. The friend then turns, looks and looks away. She does it again, but this time asks whom this child belongs to. Nan replies that he belongs to me, to which she says to me, I thought you could have been his grandmother. Yes I could have easily been, turning 42 today, but I had him at 38. Friend looks at Nan in disbelief. I am only slightly insulted. I get it. Times are different. Nan was 43 when I came into the world. I already had one older cousin. Care?

The only thing I cared about was her attitude. This “lady” just wouldn’t accept it. She kept throwing me sideways glances, summing me up. I felt judged in a world where I am almost normal. In fact according to the Australian Institute of Family Studies Women who become mothers do so typically at age 25 to 34 years. I was 35 when I had number 1, completely bloody normal.

me and my kids

My two nuts and I having fun.

So pooh to you lady. This hot older mum is not going to carry around your judgement.

Sit out the front of a school someday and check out what is normal. Nothing is normal. I missed the early pregnancy bus by a bit of good management, but mostly by luck.

There were many years that having kids scared the shit out of me, I was flat out looking after myself. So each to there own, whether 15 or 45, have kids when it suits you my sisters, enjoy them and if some days you feel like you should be their Nanna, have a little nap, then get on with the dress ups, picnics, play doh and blocks.

Picnic Time

Picnic Time

This post was originally written in October 2014, I found it just sitting in my drafts and decided to share.