Just Another Manic Monday......

Make that Wednesday week........This is how my day was MEANT to go:

Wake up bright and cheery after a restful eight hours sleep.

Find children have all woken up, made themselves breakfast and are dressed and ready for school.

Leisurely stroll through the shower, thinking about the clean house and cooked dinner I will arrive home to this evening, because, of course, my housekeeper will have that all sorted for me.

Dry my hair, slip on a gorgeous new outfit, gather the kids in the car and drop them at their destinations before finally pulling in to work......

INSTEAD - this is what I got:

Wake up to the sound of my annoying farking iPhone alarm at 7am and raise my eyebrows in amazement that I have any energy to turn it off.  

Vaguely remember getting up twice to the barking dog  Cadyn's relentless coughing, managing not to knock myself out when I tripped over someone's shoes in the darkness of the hallway.

Run from bedroom to bedroom shaking children and reminding them that it's WEDNESDAY and they have to move their arses.

Have a shower and wash my hair in record time and once again amaze myself that I have not slipped on the squeaky toy left in the bottom of the bath.

Dry my hair in record time, remarkably managing to look half decent.  Throw on some clothes that look reasonably clean and pass the smell test.

Run from bedroom to bedroom once again shaking children, reminding them that I will lose my proverbial shit if they don't get out of bed NOW.

Make sure each child has something in their stomach, they are wearing clothes and they have something resembling a packed lunch to put in their bag.

Shoo them all out the door and into the car, before burning rubber to get them all to their destinations before heading down the freeway to my dreaded First Aid Refresher course.

Now I HATE training.  But in my line of work, we have first aid AND CPR refreshers, Fire training, Oxygen training, rectal valium & enema training (I have been fortunate to dodge these ones for 16 years now!) and so on and so forth.  I DO NOT LIKE IT.  So when I turn up to a hotel to do this said training, I am not pleased to find it's like an icebox.  Not when it's only five degrees outside.  Not pleased at all.

THEN Mr Smooth enters the building.......... Not once in my life have I encountered anyone remotely interesting to look at, being my trainer.  Such a pleasant surprise!

The morning goes relatively quickly, regardless of the fact that I am surrounded by people who endeavour to make my ears bleed with their ridiculous questions whilst also arguing medical information.

And then I get a phone call - from the kid's school.  Cadyn is sick.  I knew this.  I sent the poor bugger to school thinking he would be ok because I could not cancel this training AGAIN, after doing so last month when another child was sick!  Then began a mad ten minutes of calling anyone and everyone who could possibly pick him up from school, so I did not have to return to this HELL and start the training day all over again!  Struck gold with the mother in law and returned to Mr McDreamy-trainer.

Get home to find Cadyn has been throwing up from all the coughing, so make a Doctor's appointment. Leave the two big kids home, and speed to creche to pick Chloe up, then speed to the Doctor's.  Text instructions to Lochie to cook vegetables.  Get the diagnosis of croup and asthma (again - seriously, how old until he grows out of croup??) and collect my multiple scripts and drop them at the chemist.  Call Lochie and tell him to cook schnitzel - "Mum I don't know how to cook schnitzel!" - hang up on Lochie.

Speed home thinking I have half an hour until I have to take Lochie to basketball training........walk in the door to find that he DOES indeed know how to cook schnitzel.  Then he casually asks me if I am going to take him to training - which starts in five minutes!?!?!  FARK!!!!!

Turn cook top off, speed to training, drop him off, speed to chemist, pick up scripts, speed home.  FINALLY SIT DOWN AND EAT SOME DINNER.

Some days, I just wish things were a bit easier.  So I could be less frazzled.  And avoid the possible speeding fines that will be arriving in my letter box in approximately one week's time.

Does this sound like your life?   The second bit, not the bullshit first couple of paragraphs - not sure I want to know if you have it so good!!!

PS. It doesn't help that I spend most of my waking hours now wondering who will play Dr Grey in the movie version of "50 Shades of Grey"........I know who I would cast - do you?

Crises....of sorts

It would be a fair assumption to say I am at a crisis point.  Actually, I am at a crisis junction - too many crises!  Where to start?

#1 - I received Chloe's kindergarten forms last week.  Which was all very exciting.  Until reality struck.  My baby will only be home one day per week.  GREAT I hear you say?  Well that's what I thought I would be saying - but I'm now in panic mode.  14 years of having a child at home with me is coming to an end a little too suddenly.  I need to wrap my head around that.....

#2 - Work.  I have been at the same job for some 15 years.  Love my job.  Not so much loving the shift work attached to said job these days.  Working every second weekend has lost its appeal.  Having three out of four children playing weekend sport as well as a husband who widows me every Summer, has made this past year frustrating.  Shift work is ideal for families with small children, but as we move into this next phase of activity over-drive, I'm finding myself treading water.  Lucky I have an awesome boss who doesn't slap me around when I'm having my all-too-familiar meltdowns!

#3 - The Big Brown House.  It's becoming very real that in a matter of weeks, we will have a mortgage.  A very substantial mortgage at that.  Back in my past life, at the ripe old age of 21, I bought a house.  For $75k!  Now THAT was a mortgage.  As I lay in bed trying to work out where the ABC1 weather man gets his outfits from, I told Andrew I was having a bit of a heart attack.  About the mortgage.  He laughed.

#4 - Seal quite obviously needs some sexual healing.  I watched "The Voice" and felt the skin crawling off my bones during Emma's performance.  At about 1.10 minutes in, it gets uncomfortable.  He needs to learn how to hide his lust!  And how to get a private room......

I could go on.  But I shan't bore you all!  

Anything got your knickers in a knot??


ps. this is my 200th blog post!  I'm going to get an icy-pole to celebrate....cos that's how I roll!

Being Blonde AND Brainy

I'm really amused and annoyed at myself right now!  I've just returned home from dropping Lochie off at basketball training.  And whilst that in itself was enough to have me in tears - I mean, really, when did my little boy turn in to a tallish, lankyish version of his old self?  I jumped in the car to return home to be greeted with a little red light, a beeping noise and my the car's temperature gauge almost bursting out of the dashboard!  Hmmmmm.  Whilst panic was setting in, I rang my husband.  Why? Not because I thought he could fix it (we are both mechanically challenged) but because I was worried I would konk out somewhere.  He was still at work on the other side of the city, and the two middle kids were at home whilst I made the ten minute return trip to the basketball stadium!!

About that time I had to make a choice.  Do I continue home in the hope I make it?  Or do I pull in to the service station to see what the problem was scratch my head and vacantly look under my bonnet?  I chose the second option.

Now I know this much about cars - they have a radiator.  Said radiator should be full of water.  Said car should be serviced at regular intervals so that mechanically minded employee can ensure it has water.  Let's just say........it was not full, because it hasn't been serviced in quite some time.  Whoops.

Whilst I stood there looking at empty radiator water container thingy, I remembered you should not open a radiator cap thing whilst they are hot.  So I stared a bit longer before a fellow who looked like he may vaguely know what he is doing pulled up next to me.  And I did what any blonde woman with a small child in their car would do, when they have no idea what to do.  I said:

"Excuse me?  I have a dumb blonde question: If the light is flashing and beeping and the temperature is super hot does that mean my radiator is empty?"

As I started speaking, I wanted to slap myself!  This lovely gentleman made light of my dumb blonde reference and was actually impressed amused that I even knew what a radiator was.

Thankfully, he took over the situation.  Got some big piece of rag type fabric from his van (do all middle aged men carry rags in their cars!?!) and calmly opened the radiator cap which was by this time a steaming furnace.  TWO BIG WATERING CANS later - and my radiator was full again!  She was bone dry.  Again - whoops.

Sooooo........the next dilemma.  Do I take my delightful 1999 Ford Station Wagon to be serviced and pay what will probably be a small fortune?  Or do I take the small fortune and trade her in for a later model baby?  Decisions, decisions.

Do you make jokes on your own behalf when you're feeling a bit silly and awkward?  

NO MORE BLONDE JOKES FOR ME!

I Heart My Wednesday Quickies....

Quicky Chinese massage that is....

Gone are the days I could just book myself in for an hour long "relaxation" massage.  Gone are the days where a massage was purely for relaxation.  Gone are the days of booking in for any sort of appointment, period.

I now treat myself, almost every Wednesday, to a Quicky!  I work Wednesdays, twice a month I finish at 3.30pm, the other two Wednesdays, it's a 5.30 finish.  And I am trying very, very hard to just take 20 minutes after work to fly up to the local shopping centre and throw myself into a cheap, plastic lime green chair.  I then wait for the compulsory napkin-like cloth to be placed over my shoulders, before being pummelled like bread dough.  It's not the most ideal of massages - but gees I love it!

Most times whilst undertaking this sometimes torturous pleasure, the lovely chinese masseuse manages to find the most ridiculously sore spots in my neck and shoulders.  And after I cringe and groan in pain, they always kindly ask if I'm ok?  Ahhhh, yep.....don't talk, keep hurting me!  It's that fine line between pleasure and pain that is the best part.

The parts I do not enjoy?  The constant banter between massage therapists - don't know whether it's Mandarin or Cantonese - either way, I do not understand.  And I'm always curious to know what on earth they are talking about?  I also don't necessarily find their choices of music enjoyable.  It's usually some shady jazz CD, or Chinese mandolin.  Not my preferences.

But you know what?  I DON'T CARE!  It's my 20 minutes.  By myself.  For myself.

Does it matter that as soon as I've paid and farewelled my torturer, I spend the next fifteen minutes scrambling to the car, speeding to creche to pick up the youngest and then speeding to after school care to pick up Chelsea and Cadyn?  Nope.  I just start counting down the hours to my next quicky.....

How do you spend time by yourself, for yourself?