Tag Archives: parenting

2017

Registered Marriage Celebrant

Today is the last day of 2017. A time of reflection.

My year has been one of amazement. I am amazed I have survived. I am amazed my family have survived. There have been times where I would have liked to stab Dear Husband in the eye with a fork. There are many mornings where Girl Child 9 and Boy Child 6 have copped an earful of swearing fit for a pirate ship. But for the most part we have had a good year.

I look back on  posts such as Cows, God and Lego and I realise that I was on a journey that I hadn’t consciously chosen at the time of writing. In this post I wrote of forbidden opinions never to be said out loud. Lucky I wrote them down.

I wrote that it is great to have ceremonies for births, deaths and marriages it helps people cope. I am unsure if this blog post helped me to tread my new path, or whether my subconscious had already begun treading it. Regardless, I am now a Civil Celebrant who can perform these rituals.

What else have I learned by reading my past blogs?

  1. Sometimes I am too gutless to publish my posts. I have 4 drafts sitting unpublished. Perhaps I am not gutless but trying to please everyone which has prevented me from spewing my opinions on the world. Either way, I have sat on my hands with these 4 and saved you from reading them.
  2. I really like good customer service. I really do. I have had minimal arguments with my DH this year. The one’s we have had have been about his embarrassment that I am not afraid to speak my mind when expecting exemplary customer service. He would prefer to shut up and be fed shit. I would prefer to speak up and be treated like I should be.
  3. I am a product of the 70’s. However I am rather judgemental of people who smoke whilst people are eating or anywhere else that they shouldn’t (in 2017). Don’t get me wrong, I love the odd dart. In fact I am secretly inhaling DH’s second hand fumes as I type, wishing it was my mouth on the other end of that butt.
  4. I am passionate about Boobs. No, I don’t go around perving on them, but if you wish to flash those puppies in public go right ahead. I will cop a feel for you if you are unsure of a potential lump, because that’s what friends do. Please check your boobs ladies, this shit saves lives.
  5. Accept the things you cannot change. Back in January I wrote about grieving those who still walk the planet. My heart has healed somewhat since I wrote this post, but the scar is still a little itchy. I have no control over the situation, therefore I must Let it Go.
  6. Menopause is a force to be reckoned with. The hardest part was realising that I was a nasty bitch and nobody liked me (OK, that is a bit harsh on self), another thing was finding out how it affects my health. Getting the balance right comes down to diet and self management, both of which I seem to have a handle on.
  7. Arsehole is another word for Good Parent. I am a Good Parent!
  8. Love your family. The best thing that happened to our marriage this year (apart from my awesome clinical psychologist) was a game of football. I hate football, but I love my husband. Seeing him run onto that field as an old man (Sorry DH, but you were 46 on the day) and sustain a hamstring injury made us laugh, made our kids see him in a different light and generally made us all feel good.
  9. Life is amazing. Choose Life. Stuff happens that make life a challenge, but faced with the facts of how different life would be without me or any of you, I choose life. Sometimes it is a near miss, like I had, that make us reflect how our little and extended families would feel if we were taken from them. This is what I tell myself when the black dog nips at my heals and I feel like everyone else would be better off without me, when I am too scared to try something new in case I fail, when I understand that I am not my parents and never will be, when I listen to my husband and understand his point of view, when I give my kids time to be kids, and the list goes on.
  10. I am Amazing. This year I studied to become a Civil Celebrant.  As I said at the beginning of this post, I was on a journey this year. Becoming a Registered Marriage Celebrant has made be look within, not only at how I feel about marriage, but also about life in general. Life is full of wonder. Life is full of challenges. We only get one chance at life and we should make the best of it

I have done a lot of self improvement this year. I got treatment for being an arsehole menopause. I got even more treatment for my fucked up head (you would think I could sort this shit out after 26 years since diagnosis). I am proud to have forgiven those whom I thought I never could, this includes myself. Thank you Mum for this gem “Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it”-Mark Twain (although the internet is not sure he wrote it).

Forgiveness has granted me freedom.

Much love from me to you as this year comes to a close. Happy New Year!

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Don’t Call Me Charlie

My kids hate it when they’re having a bad day. I get all theatrical and sing them songs of happiness and inspiration.

Do you remember the song in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? You know it, “Cheer Up Charlie”. If not, here’s the link to remind you.

https://youtu.be/caMIkwTPBwA

BC6 woke up this morning in a mood to darken the brightest of days. No hugs, eye rolling practice and general moodiness and disrespect. When I likened his behaviour to that of a tweenage girl GC8 rolled her eyes and stated she’s not even that bad (not going to challenge her on that comment as I’m already dealing with one poo head). He then stormed to his room and slammed the door.

As much as I wish my kids were happy, and well behaved, ALL the time, they are small humans. We need our downs so we can appreciate our ups. Me antagonising them with songs just makes them darker and more pissed off than ever. Clearly I need to take a check of my arseholeness (new word) and stop being a bitch to them.

I don’t know why I do it. I hate it when my dear husband tries lame jokes to cheer me up. Sometimes I just want to wallow in my darkness and discontent and our children should be allowed the same rights.

As I dropped them at the school gate thus morning I called after them “Love you, have a great day” just as I do every morning.

GC8 replied “love you Mum, I will”.

BC6 almost automatically replied then caught himself and trudged off, eyes downcast until I was out of sight.

Is it me? Does he reflect the mood I am in? I am in some minor pain and discomfort at the moment depending on how long since I popped a painkiller. My house is filthy because I can’t push a vacuum or mop. This increases my anxiety and turns me into loony, frustrated, psycho mum.

Sorry little dude.

I hope your day gets much better and I get lots of hugs when you get home xx

When Did We All Forget About the Environment?

Well shitballs! Hasn’t the new show War on Waste got us all talking about our environment?

I’m a bit bothered about this. Why? Because I thought we knew a lot of this stuff. I do, and I do my best to reduce, reuse and recycle.

Recently I made a comment on the book of faces regarding how much I despise the Woolworths Marvel collector series. Not because I am mean. Not because I don’t wont my kids to have fun. It’s because I can see the land being filled with more and more plastic the more these types of promotions occur. I get pissed off with the packaging which I often have to gently remind (yell at) them to pick up from the floor and put in the landfill bin. I wonder what I will do with this collection when the novelty wears off. After all, every kid has them, they are of no value, I can’t sell them. There is the possibility of passing them down to a younger child who probably wont want them because the hype is over. 

You might be thinking don’t let them get them Shauna, you are the parent. Well clearly I suck at parenting. But that’s for another post.

The chatter this week is the takeaway coffee cup. Boy has this raised some conversation. Did you know technically we can recycle those cups, except, we can’t. The sippy lid, you go for it. Throw it in the recycle. The cup looks like paper, feels like paper but it has a fine coating of polymer to stop the liquid seeping through. There is no processing plant for these, perhaps we could create some jobs by building a recycling plant.

My Morning Coffee

I knew this. I separate my lid from my cup when I toss it. I make this choice. I am a shit human, or am I?

Many cafe’s have offered the option of filling your environmentally friendly reusable cup for years. Not many people take them up.

Why? Because we are lazy or busy?

I’m not sure about anyone else, but for me it feels like it’s going to take some effort to pull off. I need to change my habits, or maybe the cafe’s do.

I wonder if this would work? A reusable takeaway coffee cup system.

Firstly the cafe need to purchase a stock of reusable cups, probably two sizes.

  1. When we purchase our coffee in a reusable cup from our local cafe the first time we get our first coffee for free.
  2. When we return with our cup the Cafe give us a fresh one and put yesterday’s through their dishwasher (I teach Hygiene for Food Handlers, I have some concerns the consumer will not thoroughly wash their own cup) we get a small discount.
  3. The cycle continues.
  4. Eventually the cafe owners wont need to offer a discount as there will no longer be paper cups.

Does anyone else have any ideas to help the war on waste?

Also, does anyone have number 18 so my kid can complete his Marvel set?

Madly Menopausal Mum

Fuck you Menopause. Two years of being an arsehole to my family and friends and  I can finally give you the finger. All of those sleepless nights and hot flushes have finally come to an end. No, I haven’t finished, but I have that shit under control.

Thanks to the wonders of ancient medicine.  Two rounds of acupuncture and some Chinese herbal capsules and I am sleeping.

Sleeping = not such a bitch. My kids no longer see me as this all the time.mean-face

 

Worst thing is as an older mum, like lots of parents these days, I have little people at home who stress the crap out of me on a good day, without throwing in some hormone imbalance and general nastiness. They have copped the worst of me, let the times change for their sake. If it was the old days, I would be entertaining my grandchildren and not permanently caring for two primary schoolers who should have a young, cool, hot mum.

To any other women out there who are wondering why they have become short fused, prickly,  sweaty bitches. Get your hormones checked and when you’re told there’s not much you can do about it, get yourself some alternative therapy. One concern was me getting pregnant which would involve sex. I have been such a cow my husband wont even look at me, let alone throw me over and give me one.

My newfound niceness means I might spend some quality time with our children and perhaps fit a few minutes of parent sex in now and then.

 

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.

That Perfect Moment

2014-05-07 12.51.48My son just called out to me, right in the middle of Offspring. My immediate reaction was, “Not Now!!” But he is my little man and off to console him I went.

I was sitting beside him, rubbing his back, thinking about how much I love and adore him and what a beautiful picture that would take if I went and grabbed a camera.

As I was thinking this he became distressed, needing to go to the toilet. I quickly grabbed him and rushed him in. I am sure he never quite woke in this time, just doing what boys have to do, and hopping back into his bed, all snuggled up.

There are times when I would have rushed him, thinking this is my time, please don’t take it away from me, but just for tonight, I sat and marvelled at this gorgeous little boy.

A boy who only asks for the little things like, can you please make me some new play dough? Can we make scones? Can we go to the park? A boy whom, if I let him stay up late, asks if I can put him to bed because he is ready and tired (usually within an hour of bedtime). Who is happy with one book, and then happily rolls over and goes straight to sleep.

A little 3 year old who continuously surprises me with his wit and charm. A person developing his personality, who looks to me for guidance.

I look within myself. Am I really qualified to be this person? I am far from perfect, like most people.

me and my kidsI drink too many wines and enjoy a ciggie when I am partaking. I scream at my children at times, but at the end of the day, if you ask who their favourite person in the world is the answer is ‘my Mum’.

Just for tonight. We had a perfect moment. A moment that only a mother knows. That moment when I realise the reasons I chose the crossroads in my life in order to achieve where we I am right now.

In this moment I understand a little bit more about me. A moment when I know exactly who I am. That moment when I understand who I will always be. I will always be Mum.

3y/o versus Intoxicated behaviour?

Recently I had the pleasure of facilitating a Responsible Service of Alcohol course to some very experienced hospitality workers. It was an enjoyable day and the knowledge of the participants, and the fact I had worked with each and every one of them, made for a relaxed and friendly atmosphere.

We made our way through the content, discussing the key agencies, the impact of alcohol consumption on our community, harm minimisation, signage, the effects of alcohol and strategies to prevent underage drinking and intoxication.

For those who are not aware, the definition of intoxication for the purpose of the liquor laws is- a person is considered to be intoxicated if

  • the person’s speech, balance, coordination or behaviour is noticeably affected, and
  • it is reasonable, under the circumstances to believe that the affected speech, balance, coordination or behaviour is the result of the consumption of liquor

As I was reading through the list of examples of behaviour I couldn’t help but begin to smile. Belligerent, argumentative, bad tempered, loud/boisterous, exuberance, annoying/pestering others, overly friendly, all appeared to my warped sense of humour. I couldn’t help thinking that my 3 year old had displayed all of these traits in the past 24 hours. She had also displayed one of the examples of speech, not understanding normal conversation (what part of NO do you not understand? I remember saying perhaps a little on the loud side). She is also often off balance, bumping into or knocking over furniture and people. And as for coordination, I am often cleaning up after a spilt drink.

After grinning away stupidly to myself about the parallels I decided on a new mantra when deciding when to cut someone off from purchasing alcohol. “If you insist on behaving as a three year old, I insist you leave the premises”. Although this is not the statement I would make to a person I was refusing service to or evicting, it will make it a little more fun for me thinking of my personal mantra as I am doing so.