Well its started again

Advance apologies if my ramblings don't seem to be coherent or even make a lot of sense - I'm pissed off...

I've been quietly waiting for this moment for the last 2 years 8 months ish. The moment when the conversation about "saving the little babies from going to Hell" would come up again. Yep I got the baptism request this morning.

This time however it was disguised as "Nick was asking why his brother and sister aren't baptised, he wants them to have god parents just like he does". Like fuck he does. When John mentioned this to me my response was

"When Nick has finished his homework tonight I will ask him if he asked that, or if your mother is pulling crap out of her arse again"

Guess what - apparently I'm horrible and not willing to accept anything and go out of my way to disagree with anything that originates from Johns parents. Funny that. We got blackmailed into getting Nicholas baptised - the exact words were "if you don't baptise him we will disown you and your son" - I ask you what sane mother says that to her only child. I backed down that time after a lot of arguing. When John began his tirade this morning about how I never flex when it comes to accepting his family and their religion I quietly reminded him of our agreement and the statement that was the ONLY reason I allowed Nick to be baptised. John bowed his head and when I told him that this will not be discussed any further he agreed - no more of my children will be baptised as long as I draw breath. Extreme you may say, but not in my world it isn't.

Why on earth should I be bullied into doing things against my wishes and beliefs. Why should my substantially larger family be once again forced to go to church for a ceremony that none of us believe in. Why should I give my hard earned money to a church we will never step foot in again. Why - apparently because me and my family are less important when it comes to our chosen lifestyles. My family aren't a pack of satanists, we are also not followers of standard religion - we all have our own minds, and thoughts and do as each individual has chosen to. Whether it be pagan, atheist, agnostic or christian - we don't under any circumstances ram our own personal beliefs down the collective throats of others.

I made a promise to John when Nick was born that his children would be given every opportunity to learn about the Polish Catholic beliefs of their father and his parents - but at the same time I will be teaching them my pagan beliefs along with the fundamentals and basics of a lot of other religions and ways of life - I live a life of knowledge and its only the uneducated that suffer in my world. When they are old enough they can choose their own paths. They could become Hari Krishna's if they wish - its a personal thing. I have always held that belief, and have always said that when each child is old enough to decide for themselves I would never question them if they said they wanted to be baptised - because THEY decided. So why now has he brought this shit up again - does he have so little respect for me. I know his parents think I am less worthy than belly button lint but surely John is intelligent enough to censor what information he passes on to me. Surely he can tell them himself that its NEVER going to happen so they should crawl back under their narrow-minded little rocks.

Now to speak to the eldest child - and I suspect once again prove my mother in law is a conniving lier.....

I need some ME time STAT

I think the time has come for me to do something for me.

Matthew is 10 weeks old now, can you believe how fast that's gone. When I had Nick and Ava at about this point in time I was either back at work or gearing up to be in the next week. Not this time, a longer break was planned, not without sacrifice and certainly not without arguments. I have been all about my family for these 10 weeks and have given my all to them with little or no thanks in return. I know that I'm not alone in the SAHM stakes when it comes to all give and no take but I'll be damned if I let it become the way things stay in MY house.

Firstly, I need some sleep. Sure Matthew is sleeping a lot better during the night than his sister did - or does, but that doesn't mean I'm not exhausted. I'm running on a mixture of zombie like stealth and caffeine, I'm sure its amusing from the outside.

Secondly, I need to embark on some deforestation. I'm mortified to say that I have been neglecting this task of late. Top to toe needs some maintenance. No further detail to be discuss, but I could use some agent orange if they have any left over from the Vietnam "conflict"

My hair I'm happy to say that it was the first step of the "me" time process. It came at a cost. I may have short hair but it is thick and the colouring in complex. It took 7 hours to do my latest cut and colour. This is of course not at an actual salon, Karen does it in my parents kitchen, so its done at a casual pace, mind you with 4 colour layers and all that processing time it wouldn't be far off that time in "salon" time - imagine the cost...

I need a facial, a proper one, not an at home job. You could pack for a month long cruise using the bags under my eyes. I'm afraid I might be looking my age, cant have that. I need a manicure and a pedicure. My nails are cracked and splitting, I want my acrylics back. My feet are horrendous, how can feet get so bad when all I seem to wear are my moccasins or thongs? I did paint my toenails though, I suppose that's something. I would like a real excuse to put a full face of makeup on - last time was a funeral, that's NOT a good reason..

I need to be able to read, my books are getting neglected, I will have forgotten the "story" by the time I get back to them. Night is my traditional reading time but I cant bring myself to sacrifice the little bursts of sleep I get. Sorry books, I haven't forgotten you.

I think the biggest thing I need out of all this cosmetic pampering is I need to find that little bit of time each day to turn off the "mum" and remind myself that I am a woman. An intelligent woman not a vomit covered washing machine with a vacuum arm extension and a baby in the other. Pity I cant see any of this happening in the near future..

A bit of mindlessness

I dont really have anything to say, but for some reason feel compelled to say it anyway.

Lets see, I can tell you about our weekend. It was cup weekend this weekend just passed. I know cup day is technically not part of the weekend, after all the first Monday in November is actually a working day. Seeing as Johns workplace shut down for some unknown reason, I suspect management laziness, and Im not currently working it is theoretically *still* weekend in our house. Well that was the long way of saying "woo hoo 4 day weekend" lol.

Day 1 - Saturday.

Normal Saturdays in the castle consist of a swimming lesson for Nick and a lot of shopping, cleaning and general household spiffing up. Nick had still not had his hives/rash that he came home from camp with calm down enough for me to want him jumping into chlorinated water so we cancelled this weeks lesson. One less thing to do, instead we set him and his sister up in his bedroom with a DVD and a giant bowl of popcorn. Best way to get them out of the hair so that things can be accomplished. Lovely nose twitch and some sparkly stars flying by and he house is shining just like a furniture polish commercial. Truth is I dont need a full day to complete this task as I do it daily but I like to still say Saturday is cleaning day and once thats done I do nothing.. Not this Saturday though, because it was Halloweeen - cue spooky music - we had some serious costume wearing to do.

A fun evening had by all, our lil Fairy Princess, Death, the Skellyboy and Bogan Shazza.

Day 2 - Sunday.

Well I can say without any problems, we did NOTHING.. Sat arse on couch with family and played PS3 all damned day long.. Wonderful day

Day 3 - Monday.

In true John form we had to "make up" for the do nothing Sunday so it was all systems go. Lawns mowed, then whippersnipped, then plucked of weeds and mowed again - I will never understand Johns need to "remow" the just mown lawn.. Hows sparkled up again, between bouts of checking my farms and fishtanks on facebook. Washing done.

Day 4 - Tuesday.

Ahhhhhh cup day. I've always been a bit of a hobby "punter" sitting down reading the form guide and make calculated guesses at which horsie will win has always been on my list of fun things to do. Of course I do it only when I can truely afford to lose any money I chose to bet with - its not often these days, so I take great advantage of cup day these days. I must admit its also a secret pleasure that I am better at picking a winner than John - and he likes to discuss tips and form with his mates, putting the "expert" spin on things and generally taking rubbish. Im a quiet punter, I pick my horse - no method at all just hunch, then sit back and see what happens. I often dont even watch the race, just check my TAB account balance later and see if I won or not.. Yesterday true to form I picked 5 winners and multiple place getters throughout the day but nothing in the actual cup. John picked one 1st and 2nd - in the cup and only because I said "how funny would it be if it was Shocking Crime Scene" he later admitted he only put those horses on because I found it amusing - he STOLE my horses lol.. Happy day, all my winnings, about $250 all up are going straight into my tattoo savings fund - yay, not huge money bet or won but it helps me so yay..

Now back to the "grind" of the working week, well for John, for me its homelife back to normal, just me and the kids and multiple little busy tasks to stop what appears to be Ava's ultimate goal in life - to destroy the house...

Teach Your Children

As the great Crosby Stills Nash and Young said on the equally great Deja Vu album - if you ha vent listened to it get exposed to it right away.

I often ponder if I'm doing a good job at raising decent adults then they do things that in an instant erase any doubt I ever had. What led to the latest reminder was the innocent task of cleaning out the toys.

Each year at least once a year, usually in the lead up to Christmas I go through the mountains of things that my children have accumulated over the past 12 months or so and do a major cull. As anyone who has kids would know you need to do this in order to achieve a couple of things.

a) declutter
b) make room for Santa

Each time I do this I like to ask them to participate and help chose which toys they are going to sacrifice. Always with tears which I have previously tried to settle with the "it helps the poor kids" line. This year we had no protests. Not a single one.

Instead the tears were replace with an actual "want to help" attitude. What was previously an arduous task became a joy. We went through Nicks room and filled bag after bag of stuffed toys and old cars that he really doesn't play with anymore but had in the past wanted to keep "just in case". Then we moved to Ava's room. I pictured toddler tears and the tantrum from hell but instead I got a little girl who very nearly made mummy cry with her generosity. She happily gave up all but 2 of her baby dolls, her favourites. And did so without any quibbles - cause it was for the little girls whose mummies and daddies cant afford to buy baby dolls. I actually had to stop her giving away every single toy she owned.

How can one so young be so generous. I like to think I have something to do with it, and I'm damned sure that its an outlook on life I subconsciously picked up from my parents.

I grew up in a house that was full of love and not overly conscious of possessions. Mum and Dad struggled financially so we didn't have everything we wanted - but we did have everything we needed. We had a loving caring family, we had food on the table each night (even if we refused to eat it and fed the "yucky" bits to the dog), we had clean seasonally appropriate clothes (even if Nanna had to make them and they were daggy) we had pets to love and toys to play with. Part of my pondering reminded me that I never had a brand new barbie doll - I inherited them from my cousins after they were bored with them. I never had the trendy clothes, my school uniforms were hand made and never quite right. Did this hurt me - nope. Sure at the time I was horrified and always felt I was missing out on something but I think that as a person grows they tend to realise that no matter how bad they thought they had it many many people are worse off.

I learnt that it doesn't matter what you own or how much "stuff" you have, that way if you lose it for whatever reason you wont feel like your whole life has ended, as long as you have happiness you will survive.

Do my kids have "stuff" yep, they have everything I can provide for them, which is of course not everything they want (but that is another blog). At the same time I have also taught them that its not what makes them who they are, and its OK to let the "stuff" go - oh and the other really important lesson, Dogs do not like Brussels Sprouts!

An open letter to my husband

When did it happen?

When did I cease to be your partner and become an employee?

Is there a union I can join because I would like to go on strike regarding pay and conditions!

This morning I dared put a load of washing in the machine. What reaction do I get from you - "What the hell are you washing now?"

Actually dear its the youngest childs washing, remember the child that spews everywhere all the time. He has lots of stuff sure, but only limited spew receptacles and once that basket is full it begins to start smelling really sour so guess what I wash it. Its not an unusual thing to do. Would you not react the opposite way if I just let it all go.

Everyday there is something that sparks these attacks - and yes it is an attack. Remember the other one this morning - "Why haven't you emptied the dishwasher?" and my response - "Why are you asking me when you are perfectly capable and obviously haven't done it either?" Remember the huge argument that ensued. Remember what I told you - don't have a go at me sweetheart I am NOT a timid little mouse who will just bow my head and say "yes dear, I'll do that right now, sorry". If that's what you want in a wife then feel free to go and find her - guess what SHE DOESN'T EXIST.

My other nitpick is your constant comment "I didn't see you do it".. Of course that immediately means that it never happened and the result is obviously a figment of your demented imagination. Do you want to install a full surveillance system on the house so that you DO see everything, that way you might just be able to figure out that yes I do thing during the day, and no your daughter does not sit in front of the TV all day - in fact its turned off the minute you leave cause I don't normally watch it either. Oh that's right I'm on the computer all day - sure its on and yes I do check it, cause you know what - I'm isolated and at least I get some form on adult communication through the computer. Before you say anything, yep I understand how sad that is but at the moment such is my life.

Try to figure out this simple concept - I am an adult, I don't need to be told what to do, you don't need to live me list of jobs for the day - I ignore them. You go to work and do your job, and whilst I am a SAHM I will stay here and do MY job - the way I chose to do it. If you should ever feel our home is not clean or your children looked after then feel free to discuss this with me - but trust me boy if you think this house is messy you really need to get out more, we don't even have dust. Also I will never understand your "thing" about the washing - no it doesn't save money if I do all the washing on one day, in fact it costs more - because half of it will end up in the dryer once the line if full, so why shouldn't I spread my load and do a little bit each day. So drop it. Appreciate me whilst I am at home, because once I return to work you either best be up for a fight or I get my cleaner back - your choice..

Lastly - I want a pay rise, because you're a tyrant! Good thing that for some reason I still seem to love you..

Hi ho hi ho its off to camp we go

Well this morning we packed the Mayor off to his first school camp.

The lead up has not been without its dramas let me tell you. Between Mr Sulkomania and his Dad the "unrelaxed" there have been some pretty big time head butts. I should of sold tickets.

I took the job of packing the bag. Labelled everything and packed according to the list provided, one set of clothes being what he was to wear on the day. Do you think I could of done that right - Nooooooo.... Of course not. Firstly I didn't pack a "shirt with a collar" - bloody polo shirts, no place for them in my world. Then I didn't pack and extra set of clothes - I figured, gone 3 days list asked for 4 of everything so there is already an inbuilt spare set. Apparently he needs 2 spare sets of clothes - not on my watch - cue argument which of course I win based purely on logic. Then I got blasted for packing the bag too heavy - what the fuck seriously, considering I had not 10 minutes prior been told off for not packing extra. Go figure the logic of the average male. Quite astonishing.

After the packing dramas we had a drink bottle drama. Why do they make everything so difficult. One says "put the drink bottle in the bag" the other says "put the drink bottle in with his morning snack" so I think - yep morning snack cause he has to take a drink.. Again WRONG, apparently Big Male never said "put in with snack" because he bought orange juice for his snack drink. So I shrug my shoulders and put the drink in his bag and the juice with his snack and move on to the next task.

Sleeping bag. "Mum I cant roll it" not much I can do about that other than go through the very technical and difficult task yet again with the Mr Sulkomania. In stomps the Unrelaxed and barks out commands army Sergeant style and we end up with tears from the child all about rolling up a sleeping bag. Hooooo boy.... In the end I get the occy straps out and say "use these, way easy and you can strap your pillow in as well"...

Say goodbye Nicky, your off to camp now and remember to listen to your teachers, behave yourself and for gods sake don't bloody hurt yourself. Last thing I need is a phone call saying you've broken your leg falling out of the bunk - why oh why did my superclutz of a son get allocated a top bunk.. He cant sit on the couch without falling off... Cue tears - not from me, I'm used to shipping him off to places - from him, all because Ava refused to give him a bye bye cuddle.

Fast forward 15mins and Mr Unrelaxed comes burling up the driveway, new Kiss CD blasting (crap btw) feverishly honking horn. Guess they forgot something in the rather unrelaxed way that John always leaves the house. Yep morning snack, still sitting on the kitchen bench.

Would be nice to have one event run smoothly in the house.. I suppose then I would complain about how boring life is though

Over and out - until Wednesday when Mr Sulkomania returns.

The bbq graveyard

I must admit this amuses me no end..

Nicks school is situated next to a catchment/easement area that runs through our neighbourhood. Its a great big band of grassland that is prone to flooding when it rains (been a bit dry up until recently though) I remember it being flooded right up to the neighbouring houses as a child.

But I digress.

The part that is near Nicks school has become a bit of a graveyard. Over the past couple of weeks what started out as a singular dumped rusty 4 burner BBQ has swelled to at least half a dozen of them. They are all in the same sorry state, and they all seem to be identical of type. Where are they coming from? Are they breeding? Are they from "outer space"? Should I call the authorities before its too late and these alien BBQ's take over Nazza Wazza Sth..

I wonder if I should happen to deposit an old esky next to one of them, would they then multiply. And an old banana lounger. We could start a whole outdoor setting for the local "Norm" types to crack a tinny in.. Add a chain link fence and a clapped out VB Commodore and voila we have a local example of the fauna of the area to inspire tourists to take snap shots of.

Could this be the start of a new enterprise for me. Best get the planning permission underway for the carpark, after all got to park the Mr Whippy and the Donut van somewhere

It doesnt matter...

Why is it that the simple requests always garner the most objections.

"Can you help hang the washing out"

"No I'm tired, I'm sitting down"

"Can you please check Matthew"

"No I'm busy"

"Can you give me a hand washing Ava up"

"No about to have a smoke"

"Can you please look after Matthews first night feed so I can get some rest"

"I have to get up and go to work woman, its your job"

Excuse me but what the fuck. This was what I was handed yesterday in a series of conversations. Washing - ok I'll do it seeing as all you do is complain. Matthew, ok I'll check on him, after all he is only crying. Ava's bath, sure dear you smoke I'll wash her whilst feeding your son. Night feed, well at about 10ish - that one pissed me off.

How come this time around its become an unwritten rule that John has taken the role of 1950's husband and I must therefore fall into the perfectly coiffed role of pretty housewife. I had help with these little requests with the other two kids, but for some reason its all different this time.

I got pushed well over the abyss last night as I was up all night not sure which end to point at the toilet bowl first. Who knows what brought on this sudden bout of gastro but it would seem that I will have to remember in future to time my inconvenient toilet runs in between my other housewifely/mother of the year duties.

Today once I recovered from my unfortunate sickness (very rude of me to get sick and be a bother to all) I cleaned my house as I do each day. Yep MY house. I organised dinner and looked after my children, bathed them and fed them and sat them down to some entertaining tasks and waited for Daddy to come home. He probably shouldn't have. I then told him that if he was going to make my role the "housewife" then whilst he is in MY house he follows MY rules. The rules are:

1. Help when asked to - it is only when I am preoccupied or exhausted that I ask so don't give me shit excuses.

2. Put your crap away - if I find anything just dumped I will throw it into the "man cave" (aka garage), no man clutter will be tolerated in MY house.

3. Accept that these three children are equally his responsibility and I don't care if he goes to work - I work from home these days and it is just as fucking exhausting - its a 24 hour job not 9 a day..

I think I have been quite lenient with these rules, after all I am willing to accept that as a SAHM it is my job. Although like has at work, every know and then an assistant at work is appreciated Lets see how long till the husband objects in some spectacular fashion.

The aftermath

I haven't really written much about the status of my marriage after last years "event" but I thought now that I have decided to put my thoughts out there I should probably touch on the biggest issue my relationship has stumbled through.

There are some people that know, some that don't. I'm not going to go into the details of the event and what led to it, just how things have been since.

Its been about 14 months since the shit hit the proverbial fan. It was in reality the smack in the face I needed to pull my life out of the pit it was spiralling into.

It was the first time I had ever seen John really cry, and I haven't seen it since. He never expected his actions and ways would ever push me as far as they did. He certainly never thought I would leave - let alone get kicked out. We both learnt a lesson in what our limits were as both humans and as partners.

There was months of discussions, letters written meant never to be read by anyone elses eyes and heartfelt apologies from both of us. Talk of marriage counsellors both entered and left our minds in similar fleeting seconds. We have both had very negative experiences with counsellors in our past and didn't particularly trust them to be able to help. We fought, we cried, we laughed, we admitted our faults and our strengths, most importantly we told each other what we loved about the other.

We have had many an argument since, its our way, we are feisty and passionate people. I'm saddened to say that John has mentioned my actions in some of these, as an attack. I never respond, what could I say in the heat of the moment that would ever be considered "correct, just or right". I let him have his little stabs and mention after things have cooled down that its not fair of him to do that. He is supposed to have forgiven me - I don't expect him to forget, but put it in the vault, lock it and throw away the key - stop using it to win "fight" points.

Has John changed. Not really, he is still the same pushy, arrogant, pig headed control freak he always was. He is still terrible at expressing emotions and needs to be asked for any kind of affection to be shown. Will I let this get to me again - NO - I will continue to ask him "John would it kill you to give your wife a hug every now and then?" I will gratefully accept the grumbles and begrudgingly offered hug and kiss. After all I have probably made him get up off the couch to deliver :)

I suppose in a way I'm happy he hasn't really changed too much. After all I fell in love with a grumpy non affectionate man, what would I do if all of a sudden he wouldn't let me be. Would that change be the exact opposite of what I want in a partner, probably. I am very happy that we don't now live a life of "fake" lovey doveyness and prissy little nick names for each other, it might work for some couples, it would only lead to war in the castle...

There is still a lot of healing to be done, in truth it may be a wound that never heals completely.

The things they say

Out of the mouth of Miss Avabug this morning,

Ava "mummy, daddy at work"
Me "yes Ava"
A "Nanna working"
M "yep"
A "grandad working"
M "no grandad doesnt work anymore"
A "grandad tired"
M "yep retired"
A "poor grandad, tired again"

No matter how often I tell her grand dad is REtired she just cant wrap her head about being "tired again"

A little bit about me

Well I've decided to shift most of my ramblings to a place where I wont get torn to bits for my opinions. Well I might, but the tearing will be done on my terms. Unlike other blogs I will swear, kick, scream and probably come across as the most pig headed aggressive person on the planet, but on the flip side I will probably also show a much more vulnerable and softer side than I normally do. Such is life as is commonly stated on the tattoos of the mindless and droll.

Who am I.
I am a mother,
a lover,
a fighter,
a swearer,
a drinker,
a cleaner of kitty litter,
a catcher of vomit,
a chef,
a housewife,
a vet,
a doctor,
a taxi driver,
a joker,
a daughter,
a sister,
a survivor,
I am Amanda

I have 3 kids, Nick, Ava and Matthew and they each have their own very strong personalities that I both love and admire. They each in their own ways drive me up the wall and around the twist and sometimes off my tree all at the same time. I love them more than I could ever express, so much it makes me cry. I love to watch them sleep, its when my inner stalker comes out - I just stand in doorways for ages watching such innocence, wondering what they are dreaming about. In the case of Nick I probably don't want to know - the imagination that child has is beyond me sometimes.

I am married to John, we have been together for 13 years and married for 6 of them. We are a pretty turbulent couple, both as stubborn and head strong as the other. This can lead to some very fiery moments. I would suggest that its not a great idea for us to both be in the presence of knives when we have these moments, but what fun would that be. Our marriage has survived some pretty deep and serious events, we have come out of them stronger and altogether a better partnership. I love him. He makes me a better woman.

I have a dwindling zoo. We seem to be decreasing the number of pets in the house. Not by choice mind you, just by mortality. Its a sad day when a pet dies and over the last 12 months or so we seem to have lost many. An entire tank of fish in one weekend was a fun one to explain to the apprentices. The birds that just drop off their perches, and those are the ones that my youngest cat didn't decide to turn into mid afternoon snacks. I'm a bit hesitant to replace these dearly departed animals, for fear that we will have to conduct many more funerals that we can find burial plots for. RIP pets that have passed.

I love to read, I love to do jigsaws, I love to cook, I love to sing, I love listening to daggy 80's one hit wonders whilst I clean my house, I love to entertain, I love to make people smile, I love shoes.

There is probably so much more I could tell you about myself but I'm sure in coming blogs you'll learn these extra little tidbits. Suppose you'll just have to pop back and read my ramblings as I update them, content will depend on the happenings in the castle at that point in time. I cant guarantee it will be interesting, but it will be me....