A mummy and daddy’s Christmas.

A Mummy Christmas:

Sometime in August….

Shit, Christmas is coming better start buying stuff and budgeting.

October:

OK, getting this and this and this for the kids. Start shopping.

November:

Take the items back to the store cause the kids have changed their minds.

December:

Write Christmas cards, organise who, what and when for Christmas Day.

Buy, wrap and sort presents for a bazillion people. Including teachers, distant relatives.

Get kids to write letters to Santa.

Unwrap and take toys back to the store.

Organise and drive kids to various Christmas functions.

Bake, bake, bake.

Decorate.

Confirm who is coming for Christmas dinner.

Organise and buy food for Christmas day, write THE PLAN.

Rewrite THE PLAN a million times and then give up and hope you can wing it.

Buy, organise, dig out clothes for various functions and Christmas.

Bake, bake, bake. Shop, shop, shop.

Start various heartfelt homemade gifts.

Week before Christmas:

Wake at 5am every morning to get everything ready for the big day.

Find handwritten Christmas Cards in a pile of junk that is accumulating on the kitchen bench. Vow to post them right away.

Write a large note to self and put on the fridge ‘Take turkey out of the freezer!’  cause microwaved half thawed turkey aint the same I’m telling ya!

Chuck heartfelt homemade half finished projects in a box and buy something less heartfelt and homemade and promise yourself you will write a kick arse card.

Reconfirm dinner guests and replan food choices for picky eaters.

Drive family members here, there and everywhere and inform children that no, we will NOT be spending $50 on each and every one of their friends. Here is a candy cane. Wrap that.

Peace and quiet while said children fume in their rooms muttering something about how heartless and cruel you are. Contemplate taking gifts back to the store and giving them potatoes/coal for Christmas.

Christmas Eve:

Mad dash to the store before they shut because you have forgotten something vitally important. And the batteries. And wine.  Lots and lots of wine.

Find Christmas Cards. Throw in a box and vow to send even better ones next year.

Find out that so and so is not coming tomorrow, but Mother of the Year has invited some strays. Work out how to stretch the meal without missing out completely (like I did one year!! By the time I got everyone organised there was no fucking turkey left!)

Wrap last minute gifts.

Bake, bake, bake.

Visit friends and go see Christmas lights.

Drink far too much spiked eggnog.

Kids in bed.

Fall into bed around 3am.

Christmas Day:

Up at 5am to put turkey in oven.

Sit with the kids and husband while they open their gifts.

A Daddy Christmas:

Christmas Day:

Cool! Look what I got! What did you get honey?

Mummy: Get me a fucking coffee and we will call it square.

 

T’is the season

Screaming children, frazzled parents, slow walking pensioners with bags full of change, punch ups in the carpark…..

Yes, the Christmas spirit is alive and well at my local shopping centre (mall).

Today I started my Christmas shopping. Usually I am almost finished by now. But nooo this year I am totally disorganised.

So I dragged my sorry arse filled with the joy of Christmas shopping I made my way to the home of off key Christmas musak. Seems everyone else in a 100 kilometre radius had the same idea.

Hence the car park punch ups. No I wasn’t involved. I was just standing around enjoying the show shouting ‘Kick him in the balls!’, ‘It was totally your park girl, pull her hair till her scalp bleeds’ with all the others.

City girl in me never died, so I walk fast. I shop fast. Old lady with the walking frame get the fuck outta my way cause I am on a mission.

Today’s mission was getting the rest of the paraphernalia for the outside decorating and the wrapping paper, cellophane, ribbon, cards and shit.  Remember this, it is important.

First port of call was the local coffee place. Make my order, stand in the required possie and wait. For 15 freaking minutes! Every bastard had the same idea as me. But when I got my extra large (I get them to make it in a milkshake cup) double latte with an extra shot, I kissed it and took off in my usual 500 miles an hour fashion.

Weaving through the prams, toddlers, aforementioned old people, disembodied heads on top of laden trolleys and strategically placed beggars people selling raffle tickets, I spied some really cute 3/4 pants. Hmmm, I have time. Lets try them on.

Yeah, it didn’t go well. Good thing I didn’t buy that holiday decorated icepick I saw earlier or I would have stabbed myself repeatedly in the eye to reduce the pain of seeing myself in the 3 way mirror.

Into the discount shop to find some cute but cheap frugal cards for the kids to give to their friends. Run into one of the feral mums from school. Am civil but talk quick and get the hell out of there. Cardless.

After an hour my feet are killing me.  These shoes are gorgeous, but not made for speed shopping.

I carry my bags full of Santas (got a thing for Santa *snigger*), lights and 2 bucks a packet candy canes out to the carpark.  Flipping the bird at the guy who nearly runs me down in the race to get another park.

I get home, unpack my purchases.

Shit.

Now I need to go and get the wrapping paper, cellophane, ribbon, cards and shit.

****************

I am going to come clean.  I wrote this last week.  Tonight I wrote a long and very personal post in response to some of the lovely supportive emails I received after yesterdays post.  But I guess I am not ready to share it right now.  I will, in time.  But in the meantime…….  

Thankyou, my internets.  You are all my biatches. 

 

Why it pays to have a ‘thing going on’ with your boss.

or so the gossip mongers say. And we play along, cause we are shit stirrers like that.

If they knew me well they would know that S is not, um, manly, enough for me *snigger* and we were friends looooong before he was my boss.  And he adores his wife.

We regularly have bitch sessions, compare coffee houses and are often found huddling in the corner giggling at the resident dress-like-a-teen-even-though-you-are-pushing-menopause hooker workmate.

Oh, and he is my bitch. And my daughters best friends Dad. So nooky in the conference room, I don’t think so, more like we would be doing each others nails ifyouknowwhatImean *wink*

Today we were gossiping. I was sitting on his desk, wearing a short skirt, he was leaning close, workmates eyes were popping out of heads *gaffaw* and this was the conversation:

Me: You bastard! You went and got a coffee and not me one.

S: I think I have PMS. I forgot, sorry. I was just at the salon. We had the most awesome salad but I just needed CHOCOLATE! So I got this huge hunk of mud cake…… but I know you don’t like cake. See I was thinking of you.  Even if I forgot to get you a coffee.

(his wife owns a beauty salon)

Me: Gimme some of your coffee you big girl (he has the same as me, double skinny latte no sugar)

*slurp*

S: Did you see A has that low cut top on again today. I don’t know where to look!

Me: *giggle* I am so going to tell her you said that.

S: Shutup! Don’t you dare!

Me: Hey does anyone have next week off?

S: Why?

Me: C’mon. Does anyone have next week off? Lemme look.

S: No, don’t want you to look. I will miss you. If you are not here I don’t have any friends.

*big girly pout*

Me: C’mon let me have next week off. You didn’t buy me coffee remember?

S: OK. But who will I talk to?

Me: I don’t care, I will be a lady of leisure. You could always come up at lunchtime and bring me a coffee.

*both sniggering* I said it loud enough for the gossipers to hear.

So I have the rest of this week off because of school closures for Boo and then next week to do with what I wish. Oh the bliss.

Oh and I will miss S. Cause he is my bitch. And cause he is fabulous.

I do have plans to do a lot though.  Thinking I might put a bit of a sidebar thingy on to keep me accountable.  You know, shit like ‘lounge around’, ‘do my nails’, ‘do lunch’, ‘build a cubby house/pergola’….

Perhaps a bit optimistic, but hey I have never been known to take on small projects.  I need just enough pulling-my-hair-out-hysterically pressure to work off all the caffeine I consume.

UPDATE:

Rat-fuck-son-of-a-bitch.  Moo just announced that she has Monday off.  That sucks.

 

Fucking Murphy

Who is this asshole, and why does he get to write the laws.

Tell me where he lives and I will drive my spiked heel through his temple. Or spinal column.  He can choose cause I am nice like that.  Not like him.  Bastard.

Two days ago I was complaining about Summer (complaining?  Yes.  Surprising isn’t it that I would complain about something being the breezy happy chick that I am…) and I said:

“How about I fucking despise Summer, more than pregnancy hormone induced hemorrhoid’s and even more than when my coffee machine expired.”

(any English teachers out there?  Do I have to do quotations when I am quoting myself?)

Well guess what happened today?  Oh yes my lovely internets, the new just-an-interim-cheap-jobbie-cause-I-am-a-cheap-bastard coffee machine my husband bought in September, during that horribly expensive week of take out coffee 3 times a day, fucking blew up!

Well not literally.  It wouldn’t work.  It exploded into pieces when I hurled the heap of shit across the room.

Well not literally.  But I did give it a good smack.  Mums these days have to smack appliances to get out their frustrations.  Not like in my Mums day when kids were regularly belted around the head for the indiscretions of white goods.

My head is pounding.  My hands are shaking.  The washing is piling up (cause that is the coffee machine’s fault) and the kids are talking at me but I can’t hear anything.

Cause BLOOD is coursing through my veins.  Not caffeine. And my body can’t handle that shit.

I haven’t said anything to the kids.  They are still traumatised from the last time.  But they know something is up.  Mummy is not happy and I just announced that we are having take away for dinner.  On. A. Thursday.

‘Oooh what are we having?  Can we have Chinese or Subway?’ asked Too excitedly

‘I. Don’t. Care.’ I muttered through gritted teeth, my head pounding from the withdrawl and every word pulsing in my head.  The headache has started.  The shakes will happen soon, and they will have to lock me in the bathroom to prevent me stuffing coffee beans up my arse.

Cause that is the fastest way to get something in your system, idiot.  I am not that kinky.

I have eaten the coffee flavoured icecream in the freezer.  It was just flavoured, no freaking buzz from that.

I toyed with the idea of making an instant *shudder* cause I keep that shit for guests cause some freakshows don’t like the real stuff. Like those heathens that I gave birth to that prefer  easter egg chocolate and that plastic shit that they call chocolate in Advent calendars to real (caffeine filled) chocolate……..

HANG ON!!!!!!!!!!  OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HANG ON!

*sob* looks like the biatches will eat the good stuff if the crap is not available.

Oh Gaggia Gods!  Why have you forsaken me?

So is a broken coffee machine rendering me caffeine-less or Summer worse?

Ask me tomorrow.  Or maybe don’t.  Cause I will be even worse in the morning.

 

The continual education of moi.

This week I have learnt a lot of things.

I have learnt (from Erin!) that the more water you drink the more your stuffed up nose will run…… down the back of your throat causing spazzaming choking coughing attacks at 3am. Causing you to vomit in the hallway.

I have learnt that said spazzaming choking coughing attacks at 3am do not wake my snoring husband. Even when I purposely do it 2 inches away from his ear.

I have learnt that said SCCA@3am causing vomit covered hallways need to be cleaned up by said vomiter. BUT only if your names starts with K and you are the mother.

I have learnt that KFC takes longer than 8 hours to digest. Ew!

I have learnt that toilet paper really is better for blowing your nose. No peeling nose for me! Thankyou near poverty for being able to afford toilet paper or tissues. Not both.

I have learnt I am easily pleased. Ecstatic actually. When DH brought home the new coffee maker yesterday by whole body shuddered with pleasure.

I have learnt that I am a much nicer person with coffee. LOTS of coffee.

I have learnt that if you stuff the Eye Toy camera in your mouth you can actually see your tonsils on the screen! Source: Watching Boo through the family room window.

I have learnt that I hate the Teletubbies. Well I have always hated the Teletubbies, but I especially hate them when 1. they are lined up on my kitchen bench while I am trying to cook, mocking me and 2. when they join their partner in crime, Boo, in scaring the bejesus out of me in the middle of the night, sneaking up on me to yell ‘Kill Kill Kill’ while I am in a SCCA.

I have learnt that I NEED coffee. Really. Oh sweet nectar of the Gods….

I have learnt that I have some wonderful caring friends both in real life and on the internet. Thankyou. You are my life line.

I have learnt that the very idea of DH going back to work gets me rather, ahem, um, excited. He starts MONDAY!!!!!!

I have learnt coffee soothes the savage mummy. (See a theme here?)

I have learnt that my workmate A is truly mad. Certifiable. And that is why I love her. She is currently putting in a tender to get a used Army tank. For her front yard. And she has a dead cat in her freezer. Apparently for DNA evidence if the police ever take her complaint seriously. Yes, mad as a cut snake, but wonderful. She took pity on me yesterday and went out and bought me a coffee.

I have learnt that my kids are wonderful. I have always known that, but I need to put something in here about ‘em!

I have learnt that waking up in the morning and finding comments on my blog makes my day that little bit brighter, even if I have to go to work.

And lastly, I have learnt that shoes really do make me happy. Especially my sexy knee high red ones

 

Positive spin day…..

Ok, I am on day 4 of no coffee machine and day 3 of going out and buying one like the bad little frugalista that I am.

No coffee and complex tasks like, oh breathing = Kelley is not a happy girly.

So in order to cope I am playing a little game. Play along with me, it’s called Positive Spin. No matter what happens in the day you need to find a little ray of sunshine…..

Lets see right now……

Boo is screaming at the top of his lungs ‘Give me your wallet’ and ‘Happy Holidays everybody!’ – wallet cause he wants to cut up the $20 note and change the dollar amounts on the others, Happy Holidays, yeah, I dunno, makes sense on Planet Boo. Major meltdown is ensuing (45 minutes and counting) and I am trying to ignore the blood that is pouring out of my ears….

Positive spin – deep ear canal clean. He might wear himself out and go to sleep early tonight!

See how easy it is?

OK, here are some others from today.

Up all night with a head cold.

Positive spin – Didn’t have to do the mind numbing training at work today cause I ‘couldn’t ensure that I would absorb all the information required’ he he he

Double Positive spin – Chairing support group meeting tomorrow (yawn. Lots of people whinging and kvetching and wanting me to do everything for them but wipe their arses. I already have a master to wipe thankyouverymuch!) and can leave early cause I am ‘not well’ or if that doesn’t work sneeze all over everyone’s coffee…… COFFEE! The Positive spin trifecta! God Bless you S for giving me this life saving cold!

Smashed another 3 nails while trying to open Boo’s bedroom window balancing on one foot (wearing knee high heeled boots) leaning around the McDonalds playcentre and trying not to fall. Boo’s dream is to work in the drive thru at McDonalds or be a taxi driver at the moment.

Positive spin – less nail polish needed therefore being frugal. Grasping at straws here I know

Freaking out cause I let Too walk home on her own today and the silly bint didn’t take her phone with her and she STILL isn’t home.

Positive spin – didn’t have to try and wrestle the screaming wildcat (aka Boo) into the car and God forbid, put a seat belt on. Racing heart from panic should be burning off some of the calories from my coffee replacement addiction, Clinkers. Go green ones!!!!! (she is finally home now, forgot she was walking home….. has been begging me for MONTHS to do it, sigh)

DS playing ‘Popcorn’ by the crazy frog on loop

Positive spin – he is no longer screaming

4 and a half hours to write one blog post when usually I just brain dump in 60 seconds

Positive spin – I could update that the screaming had stopped and the music that is now eating through my skull.

Toothpaste mural in the bathroom x2 today

Positive spin – at least it is not poo. Lets ponder that for a moment……. Yes I am liking that it is not poo.

One thing that doesn’t need a postive spin. Found a voucher for my favourite shoe shop (having previously blogged ad naseum) sale! Whoo Hooo!

Mummy is going shoe shopping…….

 

Big girls dont cry.

I have had a bad day.

Boo is within inches of being smothered. If I was stronger than him, and I am not. Darn it.

He is serenading me with one of the most annoying songs of the moment ‘Big girls don’t cry’ by Fergie. He is doing a much better job. But fingernails-down-a-blackboard all the same.

Caffeine deprived, sleep deprived but just remembered I have some Clinkers hidden in my bag. Hang on a second. Talk amoungst yourselves……..

Typical. No freaking green ones. I love the green ones. I get the packet and bite a little off the ends of them to find the green ones.

WordPress is having some major problems and my blog has gone haywire. Comments are disappearing, links moving all over the shop and I am screaming in frustration. But to give ‘em their dues, support has been quick and friendly while they scramble to fix the problems…… One little ray of sunshine in a rather brown coloured day.

Brown you say? Brown. Why choose that particular colour Kelley? I will give you one word. Boo. It rhymes with Boo. And it is everywhere. Hence the dreams of strangulation of my child.

Oh and before that he was counting the days of the year with a calendar. When he made a mistake he went back to January 1 and started again. He actually got to 354 and went back! Every freaking time he got to February 28 he would start going on and on and ON about how leap years are never going to happen and apparently he will kill anyone that says different. Well it wasn’t said as eloquently as that more like ‘No leap years! NOOOOOO! No leap years! You say leap year, I say kill kill kill!! Aaaarrrgggghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!’

Deep breath Kelley.

And I broke 2 nails. Then in my wisdom decided to pluck my eyebrows. Bad day, caffeine deprived with the smell of the little turds turds still under my nails (that smell is just not shifting) and sharp tweezers and WAX. Yes my friends, I tried to use hot wax in my delicate condition.

I just thank the Lord that I have a fringe (bangs to you in the US of A) and hope like heck that it is not windy tomorrow.

It is 1/4 past 10 and Boo is looking like pulling an all nighter. So my thoughts turn to shoes. Hmmm, which ones tomorrow? Seeing my earlier pleas to the coffee machine Gods went unheeded I will go to the shoe sale this coming week. In order to preserve my sanity and prevent social services darkening my shit covered doorstep asking why Boo has hand prints around his neck, I will dream about shoes. Pretty shoes, pink shoes, red shoes, sky high heeled sexy shoes.

But not latte coloured shoes. That would truly break my heart.

Rest in peace my beloved coffee machine. I love you.