Everyone's doing New Year posts and I felt left out, so here's mine.

At this time of year we are called upon to farewell the old year, casting our eyes over the past 12 months with a cheerful wave and a "Those were the days of our lives!" or a "Thanks for the memories 2012 you crazy kid you!", or even a big old "Fuck you 2012 you sorry bastard!" depending on your mood.  And so, as we look forward to 2013 and send 2012 into the annals of history, I am naturally moved to drag out the old whiteboard and pens, the spreadsheets, manila folders, laptop, powerpoint display and laser pointers needed to update that ole Slapdash Family Ten Year Plan aka How to Win Friends and Influence People.

Hahahahhahhhhaaaa!  Oh dearie me! Hahahahaaaaaaa...haaa...haaaha...ha. Ha. Ahem. [Clears throat, wipes tears away, adjusts monacle].

As if!  10 year plan! Bahahaha. Oh there I go, I'm off again. Ahahahahahaaaaa...ha. Hahaha. Sniff. Snort.  Ahem.

Look, it's probably actually not a bad idea, you know. Don't listen to me.  And although I don't think I could ever quite get the wherewithall to do a ten year plan, as each New Year rolls round I do have the compunction to get some Resolutions going on.

This year I'm a bit stuck, I don't really know how I'm approaching it, thematically speaking, or what my real FOCUS should be.

I've kind of got two lists.  One of them is sort of vaguely along these lines -

1.  Be better at stuff
2.  Be more awesome at things
3.  Be less not awesome at junk
4.  Be thinner
5.  Do cool shit
6.  Write a ten year plan
7.  Make tonnes of money
8.  Change everything about myself that isn't awesome
9.  Be more organised
10. Be less disorganised
11.  Win at LIFE!
12.  Make my own bread!
13.  SEW THE WHOLE FAMILY'S CLOTHES!
14. WRITE AN AWARD WINNING NOVEL!
12. Go HARD or go HOME!
13. AWESOME!
14. MICHELLE BRIDGES QUOTATION!


You get the drift.

The other one is more along these lines -

1.  Love me for me
2.  Be ok with myself
3.  Live in the moment
4.  Embrace the now
5.  Moment in the live
6.  Let go and breathe
7. Letting go and breathing I am
8. Enjoy the small things
9. Insert inspirational quote here
10. I've been to paradise but I've never been to meeeee....
11.  Something something thankfulness something gratitude something something blah blah

Frankly both lists seem like a lot of trouble and I have a sneaking, sneaky sneakity sneak old suspicion I'm going to end up DOING THE SAME SHIT I DID LAST YEAR!

Here's cheers to 2013 anyway dear readers.  May all your resolutions, no matter how TOTALLY UNATTAINABLE THEY BE, come trueeeee!  You've all had a headstart already, because let it be known that just by reading my blog, you are statistically more likely to live longer, smell better, look fresher, earn more money and have more friends who correspondingly will be the type to have yachts and beach houses and who will want to invite you to stay there free of charge whenever you like.  No kidding.

I'll leave with some pics of me whooping it up at various par-tays over the years, because you know this shit won't be going down this year.  In bed by 10pm or my name's not Slapdash Mama.

See youse next year.  Have a drink on me.  Mwah.

The art of self deprecation. The blog. Money.

So we are back now after our abbreviated family visitation for the Christmas period.
It was pretty jolly well jam packed with family and friends catchings up, you know how it is, the annual compulsion to see millions of friends and related peoples all at the one time.

At all the social events we attended there was much chitty chat and interest in me and this here blog, which I found, in a sort of contrary way, alternately interesting and annoying. I say contrary because well, obviously I write it and put it on the interwebs so peeps will read it and laud me as the singular voice of a generation. So I shouldn't really be surprised that you dudes actually DO read it, and correspondingly have OPINIONS on it and, following on from that, opinions on me and how I write and how you perceive the way I see the world. And the downside to doing this is that the good old written word is notorious for its propensity to get a teeny tiny bit misinterpreted.

The upside is, of course, that having this blog is kind of like having that golden opportunity everyone dreams of, the opportunity to HAVE THE LAST SAY. What I mean is, usually when I've had a conversation with someone about something, I often go away thinking "Bother, I wish I'd said {insert clever retort here} or {insert witticism here} or {insert clarifiying remark here}".

Well, writing a blog means no longer do all the things I wish I'd said remain unspoken, no longer do I wish I'd had the words to explain myself properly. I can now force you all to endure my musings, my followings up and my clearings up of misunderstandings.

On that note, here's some shit I want to clear up about me and this here blog that's been brought to my attention during awkward conversations I've had over the festive season.

1) On being self deprecating.

My cousin C from Deutschland reads the blog ( hello C). He was very nice about it and said he loved to read it because it reminds him of home. Thanks C. BUT. He also said  "and you are actually quite funny, in your miserable sort of way". I laughed but was thinking lots about it afterwards. At another gathering of old schoolfriends yesterday, I told them what he had said and there seemed to be general consensus that yes, it was miserable. Ok. So I think I know what you all mean, but I feel compelled to clear something up. That renowned scholarly journal Wikipedia defines self deprecation as
       " the act of belittling or undervaluing oneself.^[2] It can be used in humor and tension release...".

I prefer to use the parlance of our times and define it as "Taking the piss out of yourself".

Some famous self-deprecating humourists include such big names as -

• Larry David. I don't want to alarm you but I don't actually think he is as hopeless, accident prone, and socially awkward as he makes himself out to be. Um, I mean, he's a famous writer who, you know, only wrote like the most famous sitcom ever, Seinfeld. So probs pretty together and clever. See? EXAGGERATING for dramatic effect!!
• Woody Allen - see above precis but substitute "sitcom" for "gazillions of massively popular and awesome movies".

Ok, so what am I on about? I guess I was a bit horrified to think that what I was writing might be going down on the public record as "miserable". I read it over again for myself the other night, and you know what? I really don't think it is. It is SELF-DEPRECATING. I am really NOT MISERABLE. I'm a lucky person, I have a good life and beautiful friends and a supportive family and the thing I love most in the whole world is to have a larfff.  I don't know about you lot, but I am also deeply flawed and a bit ridiculous. I can be impatient, lazy, selfish, hopeless, hairy, depressed, smelly, grumpy, silly, argumentative, overwhelmed, disorganized, moody, negative, drunk, inconsistent, foul mouthed, emotional and so forth.

So you know what I do? I take the piss out of myself! For larffs! For shits n giggles! I take my bad points and I poke fun at myself for your entertainment! I EXAGGERATE!!!! It's not all totally REAL!!! The only sure fire way to NOT hurt anyone's feelings when writing to be humorous is to direct all the barbs and slings n arrows at yourself.  I do this for you people! I am so GIVING! I am practically a saint. Aren't you all LUCKY!!!!!!!

I am not miserable. I am self-deprecating.

2) The blog seems so time consuming.

Ok, I get this a lot! It's not! It's not a burden, it isn't hard. I wrote most of this post on my phone on the drive back from the coast while the kids were sleeping. I like it! The words come spewing forth onto the page like, well, like SPEW! The photos take a while to upload, but I just load 'em up and then wait for the magic to happen. Anyone have a Facebook account? An email account? You too could write a blog - it is EASY!!

3) Why have a blog? What's the POINT??!!

Guys once again I don't want to alarm you but I don't write the blog as some sort of high tech version of a baby book. I'm not "keeping the family records" or whatever. It's for my writing, it's a creative outlet for me to write whatever I like however I like. Usually I try to be humorous (see point one above on self-deprecation).

Maybe one day someone will notice it and I'll get some moola out of it, which leads me to my next point.

4) Mummy bloggers who host advertising on their sites and/or write sponsored posts are somehow deficient or "sellouts".

Ok, OMG you guys. No! This is wrong. You have been BRAINWASHED by the mainstream media who are shitting their collective pantaloons because they are losing power to the good people of the interwebs. People are writing their own stuff on their own sites, other people are reading it and ad companies are INTERESTED in this! The media, such as it is, cannot handle this shift and like to make out that it is somehow unethical and pathetic for "mummy bloggers" to earn some cash for their words. Pfft I say. Where does all the money come for newspapers, for magazines, for their fancy "beauty buys" spreads and so forth. From advertising!

Let me tell you now, if ever I am lucky enough to become a popular blogger, I be monetising the SHIT out of this blog so fast you won't know what hit you. I might draw the line at cigarette advertising but that's about it. Don't worry I'd be all above board and declare my interests and whatever whatever, but if someone will pay me to write this shit then I am ENDORSING THAT CONCEPT BIATCHES!!!!!

Ok here endeth today's sermon.

I feel I should finish with this closing remark. Obviously, I know that by putting out my ramblings to the general public I am inviting people to read it and then form whatever opinion or impression they like. I am basically so happy and grateful that anyone reads it at all. I just wanted to set the record straight for my own self because I felt a bit URRGGHHHH in the tummy about the blog.  Carry on thinking whatever you like peeps. Don't stop reading. Or do. Whatever you like, I am down with it.

As you were.

Merry Christmas to my crew.

Merry Chrimbo everyone.

We've had a fat old time here at the Slapdash Family Compound.  We had M's family over for drinkies here to Mums place last night, and I did a hardcore last minute giftwrap and then stayed up til the wee small hours to go to midnight Christmas Eve service with my Daddy.  Lucky because CHRISTMAS NEARLY HAD TO BE CANCELLED! I KNOW!

I know what you are thinking re: last minute gift wrapping but I can explain.  I am not usually THAT slapdash.  My feeling "off colour" all week turned into a full blown catastrophic migraine on Friday night. I had to get a jab in the arm on Saturday afternoon and everything.  I was wondering why I couldn't focus or get anything done and felt so tired and depressed.  As I said on FB, total RESPECT for peeps who get them all the time.  How do you do it?  I could have wept from relief when the GP said there was a needle he could give me that would fix it.  Thank FUCK.  I thought I was dying.  M had to take over and make the apricot jam I had conceptualised as an "easy" alternative to buying gifts for the adults.  Oh what a fool was I...anyway the jam is very nice so that's something.  Dad even had to do an emergency run to our house to look after the kids, even while we were supposed to be driving to his place!  Let me tell you if you don't have your health you have nothing.  Nothing, my friends.

Anyway, I went to the Christmas Eve midnight service a) because I am a good Anglican and b) because Dad has been coerced into some kind of candle wrangling role up at his ole church so he had to be there to offside the lady he's accepting the baton from.   I say accepting in the loosest sense of the word.  Which seemed to consist of him sort of lurking around while she officiously fussed about shaking out robes and whatnot.  If her actions could speak they would have been saying "I am NOT READY to relinquish my VERY IMPORTANT CHURCHY ROLE and frankly YOU'LL HAVE TO PRISE THESE CANDLES FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS you upstart you".  Dad was very noble and withstood the liturgical attitude being directed his way.  As we left I could hear her lecturing him "And when you do the READING tomorrow you must be sure to SPEAK CLEARLY INTO THE MICROPHONE so that they HEAR you at the BACK OF THE CHURCH! CLEARLY, mind!".  Poor Dad, I wanted to shout "Love, I think he'll be right, he used to be a Deputy Principal and spent 90% of his time yelling at halls a thousand kids strong with or without a microphone.  No problems with vocal chords here", but I restrained myself.  Dad has a better grasp of the whole humility thing than I do.

So Dad came over to Mum's this morning to watch the smalls open their pressies.  They got tonnes as usual, with some hits and misses.  P's favourite pressie was a pair of Hello Kitty PJs I bought her at the last minute.  Lucky!  She promptly stripped down and wore the jim jams all day long.  She's wearing them in bed again now.  Cutie patootie.

P lounging in her new, er, lounge wear I spose.

 

We had a VERY HOT day and so of course ate a huge pork roast with all the proverbial trimmings.  No, but seriously it was delicious and then we had cherry sherry trifle and some of good old Heston Blumenthal's pud.  Oh yeah.  Hubba hubba.  I overcame my uncharacteristic migraine induced lack of appetite and did the dinner justice, more or less. 

Me at the feast with a small.

 

Mum at the feast.

Hope you all had a nice day.  I'm off to indulge in some Christmas Day Night festive "nibblings at the leftovers", as is tradition.

My good friend Gordon has popped over and he's going to help me eat....

 

...some of this.

Peace be with you my interweb family.

2012 - the year in review.

WARNING - long and photo heavy.

Sick of hearing me moan and whine and groan and complain? Me TOO! So luckily this post will have me easing up a little on the poor me stuff.  One of my steps in the grand plan to GET RICH QUICK by becoming a famous Mummy Blogger, is to link up with the lovely Grace's "Flog Your Blog Friday" linkie on her blog, "With Some Grace".  FYI the get rich quick plan is NOT working out. Lucky I enjoy the blog anyway.

Anyhoo Grace has set us the task of doing a 2012 highlights reel for Friday's linkie, so I have dutifully obliged.  Thanks be to God for Facebook keeping some kind of record of my life because frankly at the moment I can hardly remember what I did yesterday let alone 12 months ago.  The interwebs stole my brain.

FYI I might not be very funny in this post.  In fact you guys I'm probably going to get downright emo.  It's been a big year.

January - My aunt and uncle celebrated their 50th (yes!!) wedding anniversary.  I was great with child.  Baby no. 2 was due on 30 January.  I must have a hell of a comfy uterus because he didn't make an appearance until 11 days after the alotted due date.  Lazy, lazy little bugger.

The last photo of my overdue bump, before they evicted the squatter.

February - Our beautiful baby boy B was born, as I said, 11 days after his due date.  Darling boy we love you so much. I was stupidly worried I couldn't love a baby boy as much as I loved P. Ha! As if. You have us in the palm of your tiny hand.

Squishy faced baby is squishy.

P meets B.

March - I turned 32. I had a picnic in the park but there's no photographic evidence.  Apart from being insanely windy I think it was a nice day.

We learnt that my stepfather D had Stage 4 secondary bone cancer.  His prognosis was not good.  This was a dreadful shock for him, his kids and my mum. And for us.

Baby B and his "Dai".

Baby B getting used to the world.

April -  We traveled to Mum and D's beautiful beach house to spend Easter with them, along with 2 of his 3 children.

We didn't really talk about it, but I think we knew it would be the last time we were all together in that house.

 May - M had his birthday.  P "helped" make the cake.

Oh yeah.  Cake batter.  Nectar of the Gods.

June - We went to my lovely Aunt and Uncle's 40th wedding anniversary shindig.

My uncle is wearing his "formal" volleys.

The girl cousins.  Channeling Cate Blanchett with the out-turned palms for maximum thin-ness

M and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary with a rare date night out.

What a pair of lookers.  Well, you can't really tell but take my word for it we are SPUNKS!

Everyone felt that my stepfather D was responding quite well to some palliative chemo.  Unfortunately in June the cancer caused spontaneous fractures in his bones and he was hospitalised. We traveled up to see him.  It was for the last time.

No words are necessary really.

I think it was some time around here we found out M's mum had leukaemia and was going to undergo chemotherapy. Her prognosis is good.

July - On the 22nd July, my stepfather DJG died.  He chose some songs to play at his funeral.  This is one of them.





I could say more but it isn't my story. I wasn't very close to D. He was a quiet man and didn't involve himself much in my life, and anyway I was hard to get along with and very close to my own dad.  The grief for my mum and his children however is overwhelming, he was a devoted husband and father and I'm glad he got the chance to be a grandfather to my kids and to his first baby granddaughter D.

Some time around here I also got a phone call from the CEO of the government agency I work at to let me know my permanent full time position had been made redundant.  Luckily I was still being offered 2 days a week on a contract.  Still.  Upsetting to say the least.  Talk about timing.

August - Our beautiful P turned 3.  We got her a trampoline.  My darling girl, how can it be 3 years since we brought you home from hospital, tiny in the baby capsule, me sitting in the back next to you, Daddy driving at 20 kms/hour in case we crashed, the responsibility of our tiny cargo overwhelming us?  We love you.  You are spirited and creative, you love to dance and run and talk and of course watch telly.  You love drawing and most of all you love dress ups. You are a peach and you have everyone under your spell.

September -  I started the blog.

We traveled up to Mum and D's beach house again, to visit it one last time before Mum made the move back down to her old house on the Sunshine Coast. She and D had decided it would be too lonely for her up there after he had died.

October - We hung out lots with Grandpa G, as usual.

The awl man and the young'un, as my Irish cousin put it.

We did a bit of gardening and it looked good briefly before looking shit again.

November - Urhhhh I'm getting tired but I'm almost done...

Baby B was baptised.

Cute, no?

December - It's not over yet! Don't worry, as you all know through this blog I love oversharing EVERY small detail of my life so I'll keep you ALL updated.

Gawwd that took forever to do.

2012 has been a big year. So much joy, so much change, so much stress and grief.  I feel stretched so thin as to be almost transparent, exhausted, depleted and run down.

Goodbye 2012.  We laughed, we cried.  What more can I say?

Feeling orrrffff. Sweating. Vagueness.

Baby B and I have been feeling a bit orffff this week. First he had the vomits and then he was grizzly and feverish for days.  I don't know if it's just the God-awful weather we're having but I've had a killer headache and been a bit feverish and shivery and bleugh in the tummy and the shrapnel in me knee from the war has been giving me gip too...no, wait, that's not me, I just channeled a returned serviceman for a minute there.

Anyway whatever it is we're a bit orff.  And the weather ain't helping.  Oh, the humidity.  I think it was 99% yesterday or the day before.  I know I'm a Queenslander born and bred but I have my father's metabolism and seriously I sweat even in the middle of winter.  Dad has an excuse, he's a Belfast boy and never really acclimatised but I have no reason apart from genetics I suppose.  You know how people in the Northern Hemisphere get SAD during their long winter (Seasonal Affective Disorder)? Well I get it during our summer.  I am finding it unbearable.  And breastfeeding a sweaty little feverish baby isn't pleasant either.

Sweaty baby is sweaty.

I couldn't be bovvered cooking last night so M kindly went out and got Japanese takeaway which smelt delicious. I had a few bites AND COULDN'T EAT ANY MORE! I know.  What is going on? Maybe there is something to be said for weather so humid it saps you of your appetite.  Fingers crossed it is reflected in the ole scales!  I drank some of this with ice instead.

Good old Bickford's cord-u-gal.

This is M's preferred tipple. He was excited to find it again at Woolies.  I like it too but not as much as the lime cordial.  IS THERE NO END TO THE INTERESTING DETAILS YOU ARE LEARNING ABOUT MY LIFE!!!???

I'm going to look back at these posts one day and think "Oh cheer up you little whinging git" but oh well, better out than in, I say.

Anyway I think I almost have M convinced that air conditioning needs to happen, even if it might not be until next year in March to get a better deal. Baby steps, people.  Look, I know that back in the day no-one had it and they survived and it's bad for the environment and uses energy but I don't care I WANT IT!!!!!! WANT IT NOW!!!!  I'm supposed to embark on a jam making frenzy this week, I can't think of anything less likely to happen in this soupy weather.

Anyway I went to the shops yesterday to finish some xmas stuff and that was a blessed relief and surprisingly not too busy.  As compensation for having to sweat it out at home I purchased four new cotton sundresses.  I got them from that Crossroads place, they were dead cheap.  Of course what I really wanted was something from that nice Tree of Life shop but they were a bit more expensive, so I did what I always do and bought twenty billion cheaper crappier items that I don't like as much instead of just buying the one better quality item that I love. Dur.  Having said that they are quite nice and very cool.  Although the two on the right are a bit short. Is it just me or are ALL the dresses in the shops super short?  Does no-one have any SHAME any more?  Harlots and strumpets, everywhere I look.

I also added to the day yesterday by foolishly ringing up about a job application I was unsuccessful in, to get some "feedback".  I like my current job apart from the whole being made redundant on mat leave and getting put back on a contract, but it's a long commute and I am starting to panic about it so I'd applied for something closer to home.  The conversation with the woman was kind of like this.

Panel chair: Yes, you didn't score well on the criteria at all.
Me: Oh?
Panel chair: Yours was really very long, and you didn't use any practical examples.
Me: Oh.
Panel chair: And I remember quite clearly that your application had obviously been used for another job and you had left a whole lot of information on it from the other job, or you'd attached the wrong document or something.
Me: Oh.
Panel chair: There were lots and lots of excellent applicants who had LOTS of experience and actually ADDRESSED THE CRITERIA CORRECTLY.
Me: Oh. I see.
Panel chair: I see that you have a young baby.
Me: Yes.
Panel chair: And you were probably distracted.
Me: Probably.
Panel chair: But don't let this DISCOURAGE you!
Me: No.  Ok thank you for your time. {Hangs up, runs sobbing to bedroom and cries into pillow}.

Oh I've been such a cocky shit about this sort of thing in the past, how the mighty have fallen.  I think I just need to count my blessings and hope my brain comes back to normal in time for return to work on 7 January.

So, ever had a job application embarrassment? What's YOUR favourite cordial?  Does your body create its own tropical micro-climate wherever you go like mine does?

Vomit. Armchair philosophy. Where my mind is. Money.

Baby B woke up this morning and promptly began to vomit profusely all over his beloved Mama i.e. me. Urgh. Nothing like spending a stinking hot day in the house wiping up vomit. Urgh I say again.  So today's activities were somewhat curtailed.

Anyway last night one of M's dearest old chums joined us for dinner.  He has the same name as M.  I'll call him, er, M2.  Anyway as I've alluded to in earlier posts M and his cronies are interested in reading Improving Works and discussing higher issues and contemplating existential questions.  Hey, look, it's not that I'm not interested in that stuff too - people, I have a degree in Political Science - but frankly I'm just into talking about TV, food, Kate Middleton and Georgette Heyer novels more.  Each to their own.

So M and M2 talked about, you know, the Hobbesian theory on man in the state of nature or whatever and I nodded and interjected with the occasional enlightening comment like "Hobbes? Pretty sure I saw him down the shops last week, he was buying some activated almonds and NapiSan", and "Rousseau? Wasn't he on Big Brother?", in between shoveling handfuls of macadamia nuts into my gob and listening to the music in my head.

At the moment that music happens to be that song they play ad infinitum on the wireless - "Call me, maybe?". If you haven't heard it,  I think the song is about two young people who meet one evening at a dance, whereupon the young lady gives her calling card to the young gentleman and he asks her chaperone if he can pay a social visit while she is staying at her spinster aunt's residence for the London Season. Or something.

Anyway as M and M2 reminisced about days of yore and chewed the fat philosophy style, I kind of drifted off. I don't know about you but I think a lot about food. So if you're wondering what goes on in my head that prevents me from, oh, I don't know, actually making sure I'm wearing matching shoes, wonder no more good citizens. Here's a sort of photographic recreation of the glory that is my mind.

Hey, I just met you!

And this is CRAZY!

But here's my number...

So call me, maybe?

Repeat ad nauseum...

Hey, I just met you!

And this is crazy!

But here's my number...

So call me, maybe?

Sorry about the gross broken nails with chipped nail polish. Insert any festive related treat into this pastiche and you will have a fairly accurate representation of the inner workings of my braiiinnnn, such as it is.  You could probably substitute other tunes also.  It used to be that Robert Palmer song "Simply Irresistable" that was permanently stuck in my head. I think you'll find that one works just as well for this thought sequence.

When the kids are in bed M and I are going to talk about money.  I don't know about you but frankly, after a busy weekend of vomit cleaning,  there's nothing like really getting down to nuts and bolts about family finances to cheer a girl up.  I think there might even be spreadsheets involved.  Oh the humanity...

How are you lot going?  Eating lots?  Swatting up on Descartes and his methodological skepticism? Enjoying your nice air conditioned houses you total bastards? Do tell.

My week, a synopsis in photographs

I'm finding it difficult to get a moment to myself to write this blog.  So here's a speedy update on my week in photographic form, for those who are interested, although why you would be is anyone's guess!  I tried to start it twenty million times with P and B at my feet "writing" Christmas cards and so forth but not a moment's peace was to be had. I usually do as much as I can on my phone in any snippets of calm I have, but I still have to tweak it properly on the ole fashioned desktop computer.

I cannot work under these conditions people I AM AN ARTEEEESSST!

Also, I've been shamelessly flogging the blog around the traps and have successfully ensnared some new readers.  Hello to you all my new friends!

OK so here it goes for what it's worth.

• I invented a new word, sangry. You're sangry when you feel like this - 

Oh woe is me, I'm failing the kids, I'm an awful Mum, I'm never going to have a meaningful career, my daughter hates me, boo hoo hoo hoo 

        And then immediately feel like this - 

Grrrrr the house is so MESSY no matter what I do, I may as well be a frigging char lady, all I do is argue with the toddler and wipe arses, it makes me so MAD I WANT TO KICK A SMALL DOG BUT I CAN'T SO I'M JUST GOING TO SCREAM LIKE A BANSHEE AT MY HUSBAND!

 And then like this again -

Oh the world is so full of cruelty and horror, global warming, war, Tony Abbott, famine, misogyny, it's all too much, {sobs into pillow}.

Closely followed by - 

If I hear one more word about RADIO BROADCASTERS ACTING LIKE ARSES or if one more person bags out Julia Gillard JUST BECAUSE SHE IS A WOMAN WITH RED HAIR or if P does ANOTHER wee on the floor I am going to go OFF LIKE A FIRECRACKER OR AT THE VERY LEAST SCREAM LIKE A BANSHEE AT MY HUSBAND!!!

Sound familiar anyone?  We all get sangry from time to time.  Let it all out folks, breath out sangry, breathe in love.

• I remained more or less committeed to Fox in Flats #darecember. Get ready for some hardcore selfie action you guys.

Dress

Neck party

Red nail polish

Animal print

All black

Curls

•  This happened - 

Then this happened - 

Then this happened again - 

See "sangry" entry above for further details.

• Cute baby crap went down

Hee hee

Bless

•  This happened. For ages. WTF.

Sharpness of mind and clarity of thought, I has it.

•  I had a Tupperware party.  I know.

Wore this.

Baked this.

Scored free shit.

What have youse guys been up to?  Get about in mismatching clothes? Yell abuse at your husband?  Score some noice free plastic gear? I want to hear it all.