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.

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.

Hedonism. Supre.

I have a streaming cold, therefore my patience is at a low ebb.  I'll make this short and sweet.  Went up to the Family Compound with the sprogs this weekend again.  M stayed at home in order to catch up on an entire semester worth of study for a uni subject he is doing.  As you do.  He has led me to believe that he was indeed burning the midnight oil and studying the shit out of those textbooks.

How M hopefully spent the weekend. [Source]

I'm sure he isn't fibbing to me.  And I'm hoping that "studying" isn't a euphemism for lying around in his jocks drinking red wine and watching Saxondale DVDs.

Hedonism bot says "I apologise for nothing!"

I was going to go hunting in the op shops again but my cold prevented me.

Incidentally, I did go and try on some patterned pants the other day.
The horror.  It looked like someone had vomited pina colada all over my ample buttocks and dimpled thighs.  Which isn't as good as it sounds.

I also made a trip to that well known high end pret-a-porter establishment, Supre.  I know, I am all class.  This time I had quite helpful service from the carrot-skinned teenager at the cash register.  The same couldn't be said for my visit before that.  I was purchasing a cutting-edge voluminous neon orange t-shirt and stood there for about an hour trying to interrupt their conversation.  When I finally did get served, the infant shopgirl said to me "D'ya wanna matching crop top with that shirt?".  I stared at her, uncomprehending, and then laughed the hollow laugh of a 30-something woman with two children and a correspondingly stretched and jubbled tummy.

"Those days are long gone my dear," I said to her.  She shrugged and said "You could wear it under stuff".

I think not.

I guess that's what I get for frequenting such establishments.  I should really be shopping at Miller's.

Hope everyone else had an equally exhilarating weekend.

Peace out.

Napoleon. Spirited children. Insomnia

I'm feeling a bit defeated by P and her 3-year-oldness at the moment. It's like living under a totalitarian regime run by a sociopathic midget.

Napoleon - renowned military leader, nude trampolinist (not really) and romantic novelist (really!).  I'm seeing definite synergies here folks.

As a result, this is my next reading project.

Click to purchase!

I also had galloping insomnia last night, which didn't help. I finally got to sleep at 2.30am, only to be woken again for the day at 4.30am by the baby.  I'm so tired that it was only after I stood up from the loo that I realized the end of my belt was hanging down inside the bowl, and that I had accidentally weed on it. The shame.

I'll leave you with these childrearing tips from a simpler time in the Old Country.