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Angels and LOL Demons…

5 more sleeps till Christmas. 5 more sleeps till our annual viewing of National Lampoons. 5 more sleeps till it’s over for another year.

The kids are exceptionally insane currently. Buoyed by a constant stream of gifted sugar and the commercial aspect of old mate Jesus’ birth; they have whipped themselves into some sort of Tasmanian devil frenzy that involves a lot of very early wake ups and jumping off couches. I sold some baby items last week and a lovely young lady came by to pick something up. Pregnant with her first child, she stumbled into what can only be described as apocalyptic chaos. There was yelling, crying and someone screeching about being stepped on. Phoenix decided he wanted to show her some Paw Patrol toys and thrust Chase right into her retina whilst yelling, “CHASE IS ON THE CASE!” Repeatedly. Addison started rubbing the poor woman’s stomach like she was a genie and Hendrix just stumbled around yelling. I have never had someone give me money that easily before. As she ran out the door I could smell the waft of the my kid will be different stench coming off of her. We all think the same.

You know, for someone who isn’t religious (I went to church once as I was promised Pizza afterwards) and what with Spouse being a non practicing Catholic; its tough to explain the significance of this celebration beyond presents, Santa and a red nosed reindeer to 3 very young kids. Addison came up to me yesterday, looked me dead in the eye and demanded to know if ‘baby cheezel was still alive and where is he?’ These are questions I’m not equipped to answer people. (Not to mention the fact my child can’t differentiate between Jesus and the tasty morsel that is the orange ring of Cheezel.) Sigh; I had so many grand plans of giving back to the community and making my children not appear to be ungrateful little blighters this Christmas. None of it has panned out. Next year then I guess.

Christmas is stressful and sometimes I wonder if I’m the only Mum out there who is at times, frustrated and flustered by the muchness of it all. It feels a bit like a pressure cooker, a pressure cooker that has to perform and purchase. To keep up with the fuckery on social media, the who can do Christmas better campaign. I won’t be elected. Mainly because for every white washed, filtered, curated Instagram family post there could be one of my lot covered in mud from outside, destroying the tree and each other. I found myself on Saturday traipsing around store after store searching for a plastic ball full of plastic crap that Addison will lose interest in within hours and Spouse will step on and invoke the demon of toy inflicted parental pain. I left empty handed and cranky with myself for buying into that crap. Bah!

Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas, I do. I love carols and lights and decorating the tree every night after they’re in bed. I love the end of year concerts and the happiness on their little faces as they exchange cards and receive gifts. I love it when they meet Santa and the joy they have as we bake treat after treat. I love reading Christmas books and doing my best as a heathen, to explain the story of Baby Jesus.  I love remembering the anticipation of it all; how as a child you could almost taste it as you counted the hours down on Christmas Eve. I love the smell of real trees, so much so that I casually sniffed one at Erina Fair today and a woman gave me a weird look. I love the decorations that have been passed down to me and will go onto my kids one day. Especially my angel, purchased in the early 80s from Franklins by my Dad and whose hair smells exactly like my childhood home and who I hold up to my nose everyday to inhale the scent of long gone lazy summer days waiting for Christmas to arrive. The truth is, without the white noise of excessive shopping, car park fights and cranky family members, Christmas is a little bit of alright by me. Maybe, with more tree sniffing and light gazing, the pressure cooker starts to deflate. Maybe, it’s all about focus.


5 more sleeps.

5 more sniffs.





I wrote this for me…{but also for you.}

Many moons ago, when I had plenty of time and money to spare, I went to see a psychic. I don’t remember most of what he told me, I’m sure that I asked 5 run of the mill questions and that he probably gave me 5 run of the mill answers. What I actually remember is what he told me just before I walked out; that as I approached and entered the middle years of my life I would be the happiest and most at peace I’d ever been. At the time I remember scoffing at this. Middle years?! That would equate to old as fuck. How could I possible be happy about being old? My life at the time was carefree and rich with opportunity. We travelled, we partied and we slept. My career was fulfilling and our weekends were insane. I was happy; how could this not be the happiest time of my life?

But the truth is, right now, today…I am the happiest I have ever been. The psychic was right man! I am at peace with my choices, my truths and my self. I am settled but I am also open to change and what may be. I’m won’t say that youth is wasted on the young because the time before now was exactly as I wanted it to be. But within me, there has been this slow burning shift and the angst; the yearning for more; the drama of youth is gone. It’s not about having kids or our own home or all the other grown up shit. It’s my internal dialogue that has reshaped itself into something I’m really proud of. I no longer feel the need to please and prove. I am who I am. The haters do not faze me and the past is just that, passed. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not some sort of cray hard ass now. In fact, I’m softer than before; calmer. The fire that made me swirl to anger and hatred so quickly has burnt to a simmer. A controlled burn if you will. It’s there when needed, when required. I am no pushover but that rage is no longer unleashed on the reg.

We travelled recently; a much anticipated trip to Hong Kong and Disneyland. For my 37th birthday, Spouse gifted me a trip. What he doesn’t know is that he gave me so much more than that. Being there, in a fresh city, watching the world make it through another day, something woke up inside me.  I had forgotten you see, how travel awakens you. How incredibly big the world is beyond these invisible boundaries we build around ourselves and those we love. I forget how beautiful humanity can be; how exasperating but fun it is to spend so much time with the one you love; lost but not really, in a world that isn’t yours but someone elses. This shift inside of me started a while ago but it was being overseas that unfurled the final turn. I am so grateful for the gift Spouse unknowingly gave me.

You wouldn’t know it probably; you wouldn’t be able to tell; how changed I am inside. Unless you poked and prodded; I probably would appear, to be exactly as I was before. But I haven’t changed for anyone or anything, and that’s the difference isn’t it? Youth if anything, is a chameleon. You chop and change to assimilate. You change and alter to please and prove. Those days are over; for me anyway.

I wrote this for me, but also for you. To put these realisations, these truths of late into words is so empowering. Being old doesn’t feel old. I feel the same in that respect as I did 10 years ago. I feel better really. Don’t fear the changing seasons. Like Monica said, “I don’t get older; I get better!” Yes, the madness of this life still knocks the air out of my lungs every few days but I no longer flail, no longer drown in the shallows of that madness.

I can swim now.


{Sounds on Sundays…}

I really wanted to blog this past week, but alas it was a complete clusterfuck round this joint. A relentless week of pre school holidays, activities, appointments and general post birthday mania. Rather than meditate to try and catch some mindfulness, each day I took note of some of the absolutely random shit that came out of my mouth and well, yeah. I dunno guys, it’s just living life I guess. Enjoy.


“Yes Mummy is doing a wee. No, you cannot watch.”

“Yes, it’s too soon to start planning for Christmas.”

“Put your shoes on.”

“Please stop trying to catch your penis with the fishing rod toy.”

“No, I do not know Barbie personally, therefore I cannot call her for you.”

“Yes that’s right, we have to go home because you can’t live at the park.”


“Put your shoes on now please.”

“Next time, try not to wee on the floor before you get in the bath.”

“Unfortunately no, Sea World is not our home and we cannot live there.”

“No you cannot have a credit card of your own and no you can’t use mine to buy the watermelon custard that you saw on YouTube.”


“Please stop strangling the baby; he doesn’t like it.”

“Yes I know glue doesn’t taste good. That’s why I told you not to eat it.”

“No, baby Hendrix doesn’t actually have to have a shower at the baby shower. It’s a party for a soon to be Mummy.”

“Mummy didn’t mean to say the f word. It came out accidentally because that lady can’t drive.”


“Fine, just wear your slippers.”

Have a great week guys!