Blancmange, B, Ballet and Breaking Bad.

Hello again. It's been a full week since my last confession blog post. Forgive me readers for I have sinned. You know, been slack again. About posting. Which I know doesn't matter in the slightest but still, I feel I need to act as though I am a minor celebrity by apologizing. So indulge me won't you.

It's been a busy week round these parts. More storms, hot weather, me continuing with the predominant literary trope of this blog by complaining about having no air conditioning and adding to it by weeping with frustration while I tried to put together the pedestal fans that I had taken apart to clean, kindy concerts, more freaking ballet rehearsals, a sick baby, spending money we don't have on shit we don't need. You know the drill.

I think this post might call for some dot points again. And you know how I love a good dot point.

• I've been going to bed at 8 or 8.30 nearly every night. Because I am so bloody TIRED all the time. WHY AM I SO TIRED? My kids, these days, sleep through the night. They wake pretty early but I don't think that explains my bone weariness. I never used to be able to sleep during the day but at the moment I could sleep hours away. Hours I tell you. I fall asleep lying on the floor next to B's cot. The early bedtimes have rendered me almost incapable of keeping up with blogging, housework, tv viewing. But I do feel a bit less tired. I am guessing the absence of anything much that you could call actual exercise is not helping my energy levels. If I don't action some exercise soon I will become a human blancmange.

Me, earlier today.

• Apart from being quite sick with a fever last week, B is very cute at the moment. Some examples of his cuteness include;
• he says "fuck" instead of "truck". He also says "pig" instead of "big". So when we are out and about he is often heard shouting at the top of his lungs "pig fuck! Mummy PIG FUCK!". Amusing, no?
• When he wakes up in the morning and I walk into his room, he shouts at me, whilst standing in his cot - "Get DA WATER mummy! Get DA WATER!". Which is his way of requesting a drink.
• When I take off his sleeping bag, he often says "Hello feet!" to his appendages. CUTE!
• When I say to him "Love you!" he replies "Wah Woo!".
• When he has a sore anything he says "Sore tummy! Sore tummy!". Even if it isn't his tummy. I mean what is he, like, 2? OH RIGHT!
• When he DOES bang his head on something, which happens fairly regularly, he cries and says "Bump da HEAD!"
• When I tell him it is time to get out of the bath, he tells me sternly "No! Free minutes!" which is his way of demanding three minutes more.
• He is obsessed with M mowing the lawn and comments regularly throughout the day "Lawn. Mower. Boots. Hat. Gasses" (glasses). HEEHEE.

Here is the boy in question in his kindy photo.

• We went to P's kindy concert on Friday night. She and all her pre-kindergarten cronies were up on stage singing Christmas carols. Very cute. I could hardly see her because she was hidden behind a tall kid but what I could see was her staring at all the other kids and only occasionally joining in. Some would say easily distracted, I would say DEAD SET OBSERVANT and INTERESTED IN PEOPLE!

And the girl.

• Saturday we went on a wild goose chase to some non-existent Indian supermarket to purchase some AUTHENTIC spices for M to make dhal. I mentioned to him that I thought you could get some pretty bloody authentic spices at Woolies but he was not deterred. When we weren't successful in locating the supermarket, we decided to go to a fancy pants market type place at harbourtown and had lunch at the deli there, which was very nice indeed. Fancy pants gourmet food type things are M's Achilles heel, spending wise, so we then proceeded to buy a high end panettone, some salted capers, and some baklava. We were sorely tempted by all sorts of other ridiculously priced goodies but stopped there. Frankly we should be living on tins of baked beans and cat food like pensioners do, the way we are going.



File footage of a panettone. I think this is the same brand.  Weirdly this looks a lot like our floor too. Curious.

• After our spending spree, I then had to wait around outside P's ballet rehearsal, sweating for OVER AN HOUR AND A HALF. This time I was able to see P doing her thing through a window. Whilst all the small ballerinas faced the front doing the actions, P faced sideways, mostly staring at the other girls and occasionally getting the steps in. DEAD SET OBSERVANT, SEE? PRODIGY! I think she is clearly going to be an anthropologist or life painter.
• We threw caution to the wind for a second year running and put the Xmas tree up in November. We are going away next weekend so I figured what the hey. Didn't put the outdoor lights up because I got too tired. Energy levels low. MUST EXERCISE! MUST! Here's some file footage of Christmas Past if you are interested in it. Everything looks basically the same this year except messier because I retained limited creative control of the project and outsourced it to my junior colleagues. http://slapdashmama.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/poo-of-day-festivus-for-rest-of-us.html

• Even though I have been adhering to my stringent early bedtime curfews, I did manage to stay up late enough on Saturday night to watch 4 episodes of Season 2 of Breaking Bad. SO OBSESSED WITH IT. I know I am late to the party but better late than never, as they say.

• I really miss having a proper smart phone. I am at a loss. No easy access to a photographic record of my life. Therefore no easy access to photos for this blog. And don't get me started on Instagram. I mourn it. I must do something stat.

Anyway that's a wrap.

Lalala - weekend things and stuff and Key Learnings and weather and whatnot.

Hello there peeps.

There has been some deadset doolally weather round these parts. I spent a few days up the coast at the Slapdash Family compound and there was a hum dinger of a hail storm while I was getting my hairs done at the, what I call, hairdresser. All us ladies there pressed ourselves up against the glass, robed in our capes and curlers, squealing and screeching things like "Oh me car!" and "Should we get some towels?" and "Everyone insured?".

Luckily the Noble Honda Civic that is our chariot of choice seems to have survived with the merest ding in the roof, despite veritable CRICKET BALL sized hailstones.

Then yesterday our Gracious and Tree-lined Suburb* was at the epicentre of another nutty storm that rent the kiddies daycare centre sun shades in twain and caused no end of consternation amongst eager local social media users. The magic of modern technology meant I could see a video of the hailstorm as it happened two houses away from ours, even though I was in the city at work. It's like living in the future!

Anyway the long weekend up the coast was very pleasant, as my brother, the prodigal son, had returned for a brief visit and my parents killed the fatted calf and whatnot**.

Here is evidence of said fraternal visitation.

During the visit I learnt some Key Learnings. The first of these Key Learnings was focused on my mother's dog. He is a sort of cattle dog and has been, for most of his life, rather neurotic and barky and disobedient. Push came to shove recently and Mum was forced to employ some Expert Assistance. aka Dog Whisperers.

They taught her how to show him who is boss. Apparently he had been stressed out because he thinks he is Pack Leader and frankly he is just not up to the job, being small of brain and feeble of character. So hence the manic barking and stress pooing and mentalness.

Mum had to give him what for and lay down the law and set things straight and so forth. Which, essentially, consists of sternly saying the word "BAH!" to him when he is playing up and carrying on like a pork chop. Apparently "BAH!" is a Universal Dog Sound that speaks to canines on a Profound Level and signals to them that All is Right in the world and that they are not pack leader, so they should just chill the hell out and relax and take it easy and enjoy a responsibility free lifestyle.

Weirdly enough it seems to have had a remarkable effect on the beast. So there you go.

The next, darker and more disturbing Key Learning, is as follows.
 My mother starkly revealed to me on the weekend that, even though since 1997 I have laboured under the illusion that I received the Highest Possible Mark for Senior English, thereby rendering me the Best English Student that my teacher had ever had, I did not, in fact, receive the HIghest Possible Mark and it is possible to get a Higher Mark then the mark that I got.

I know.

I basically don't even know who I am any more and have essentially been living a lie.

I had to have a good lie down after that revelation I can tell you.

Moving on from the destruction of lifelong belief systems, I had to race home from the coast in order to gussy P up in her ballet tutu and a face full of makeup for her official ballet photographs.

I am not cut out for this ballet mum caper. We still have a dress rehearsal AND a concert to go.

Not only will I need a lie down after it all but I daresay I will need a stiff drink or two by the time it is all over.

Cute though, right? Cute as a bug's ear.

In a final point for you this evening, I present an utterly hilarious and deadset clever piece of satire from the Tunnel Presents website. I've heard the person who wrote it is really good looking, nice smelling, kind, clever, generous, an excellent gardener with a high commitment to personal hygiene and permanently well styled hair. Ahem.

Good night readers. And good luck.


*and by Gracious I mean Bogan-acious
**by killing the fatted calf I mean shouted him to a bloody spensive steak at the local tavern