Can you try and half fill this for me Love?

Today I had to have a blood test that I then discovered also asked for a urine test.

I’ve been tired and had a sore throat for a while so it’s always lovely to wake up, not eat anything or drink coffee, fight with the whole family, drop the kids off to school and then have a blood test at 9 am.

The blood test was going well. The man was quite chatty perhaps bordering on flirty.

Then in the same flirty talk he asked if I thought I might be able to provide a urine sample.

I said yes and he flirtatiously gave me a jar, a bag and 2 wipes and told me how to use them.

It felt a tad odd.

I personally am going to go out on a small limb and suggest that flirting and urine samples don’t mix.

Actually nothing should mix with the urine sample and you should make sure that the lid is on very tight and you should make sure you take a long time washing your hands.

Blood collecting of course can be seriously flirty in a “this will only hurt while it’s going in” vampirish way.

But urine collecting? Nope. Never.

Due to the nature of my brain it have spent far too much time today thinking of other jobs where flirting could be considered of poor taste.

Obviously an undertaker shouldn’t flirt with their clients.

Mainly because they can’t flirt back and the clients that are still alive are probably not in a receptive headspace.

Medical practitioners performing any procedures that involve the mentioning and or collecting of bowel movements.

Well that’s actually all I can think of right now.

Maybe you’ve got some more no-go flirting professions?

Me? Well I’m just rest up and milk my tiredness for all I can.

#passmethenetflix (and coffee in bed).



I wasn’t expecting that..

Me to my kids: We’re having fish and chips for dinner tonight.
My youngest (7): I don’t like fish and chips can I have frozen peas instead?

Surely all kids should like hot chips right? Isn’t that a rule? Unless they have a severe potato allergy and even then they would still want to have chips if they could wouldn’t they?

Life is strange isn’t it?

There’s never quite the right answer for it.

It’s unpredictable in both good and bad ways.

My very dear friends cat died recently. On the back of another of her cats dying not that long ago. Both sad accidents. That doesn’t seem to be fair. That’s not okay.

Life sometimes just sucks and it’s nobody’s fault. Or there’s nobody to blame which is probably worse.

My sister in law’s mum has cancer. She’s having chemo and has a fancy new wig. Her husband died after suffering from Parkinson’s disease for a decade and now she’s sick too.

That’s not fair.

But then there’s random good things too aren’t there?

Silly laughs with a friend.

Good coffee.

The perfect sugar-free slice of cheesecake.

Hot porridge in bed with a new book.

Clean sheets and towels.

YouTube clips of kids falling off slides.

Funny unexpected gifts in the mail.

Kindness in all its forms.

Microwave popcorn and a Disney movie.

There’s so much heavy sadness out there and sometimes in here too.

The not fair-ed-ness of life sometimes confounds me and leaves me at a loss for the right words to say.

The good moments that pop up in the midst of tragedy make it more bearable.

The strangeness of a kid not liking hot chips makes me laugh.

Life is complicated and it’s interesting isn’t it? It can all change in a second or you can be stuck in a rut for years.

I like to ramble a lot about nothing and post it online to remind myself when I look back that things change and that it usually works out okay.


All good here…


I’ve not had much to say recently.

I’ve been well. So well in fact that my psychologist sent me home half way through our session last week.

I’ve had nothing to complain about. I am very lucky and totes hashtag blessed.

(Whenever someone types the word hashtag they should by law be sneezed on by a snotty child.)

But because you, my readers, (yes that’s right plural) might have been missing me I thought I’d pop in and reassure you that all is well.

My husband was away last week and this week and next week and that’s okay. The travel is supposed to slow down after that.

I am volunteering for a bit each morning at my kids school. Not in my kids classes mind you as they would be too distracted by their love for me (asking me for lunch orders) to learn a thing.

I’ve been working with a class of 5 year olds. They are so sweet. They are learning so much and they are full of wonder.

Yesterday while learning to write their names 3 boys were talking about death and how you die when you’re 100.

One boy then pointed out that you can die when you’re a baby if you’re very sick. They thought about this for a while and decided that you could die anytime but not while you’re writing your name at school because then you’re not sick or old.

These 3 young boys then talked about getting married to girls and having babies. Then one said that boys sometimes love boys and have kids and they all nodded and went back to their writing.

We think kids need to learn from us but we need to learn from them.

There’s so little judgement unless it’s been rammed down their throats earlier.

There is kindness and silliness and pure excitement watching a YouTube video about the letter of the day.

Kids are allowed to laugh when one of their peers farts and put their noses down their tops.

Adults can’t do this.

Kids can look gorgeous leaving the house with some breakfast on their face and toothpaste on their shirt.

The other day I heard a young girl at school running to the toilets telling her friends that her wees had already started.

These are but a few of the reasons that kids are lovely… and need to be bathed regularly.

I am good.

I am enjoying spending time with other peoples kids and having the energy to still spend time with my own.

I like volunteering and going home whenever I need coffee and a nap.

I have nothing profound to share and nothing significant to add.

Except that the next generation are quite lovely. They are sensitive and smart and spill a lot of yoghurt.

There is doom and gloom everywhere. There are bad people and bad things and bad reasons for bad people doing the bad things.

But I’ve got 20 new friends who think that I’m funny and tell me so.

I’ve got 2 kids at home who think that I should get a job making seagull noises because I’m so good at it.

So yeah, I’m okay.

Who am I?

In the 80’s and 90’s in Australia there was a long running quiz show called Sale of the Century. The hosts and cohosts were beloved. The prizes were of a reasonable standard and it finished at 7:30 which was my cue to start whinging about having to go to bed.

They usually asked short questions but at they also asked questions about famous people. Slowly revealing more facts until someone guessed who it was.

Which leads me to the question of…

Who am I?

No really? Who am I?

Who do you think I am? Or more importantly who do you see me as?

Am I the funny girl who says strange things?

Am I the girl who listens?

Am I your kids teacher?

Am I the person you like to have coffee with?

Am I the person who cooks, cleans and looks after your every need?

We save different sides of ourselves for different people don’t we?

Some people always get to see the brave face and some people get to see the raw version.

I try to be honest and if you give me enough time I will be but I’m not so good at the superficial stuff so I play the funny card.

I don’t get to be shy very often.

Usually only my own.

Does that make sense?

Pretending to be happy/funny/sane can be exhausting.

I’m not working at the moment so I’m a little bit lost as to who I am.

I’m a stay at home mum but my kids are at school so I’m really just a stay at home lady.

I’ve been volunteering at the kids school because I’m not good at being left alone in my own head for too long.

I know who I want you to think I am.

I want to be the person that is there for other people and is kind and offers to help but you can’t be that person all the time either.

You have to save your best self sometimes for the people who need it or the ones who deserve it or the people who see you as an even better version of yourself than you think you could ever be.

Sometimes you have to be tough and sometimes you’re allowed to be vulnerable and you get to care a little bit more.

So in answer to the unanswerable question on the quiz show “Who am I”?

I’m whoever you’ll let me be. xx

It’s laundry time…

I have made the decision that life is not like a box of chocolates.

(Especially when you mysteriously went of chocolate 6 weeks ago.)

Life is like a load of washing you hang out to dry when there’s a chance of rain.

It might not dry but it definitely won’t dry if you leave it in the machine. (In fact it will go all funny smelling and possibly moldy.)

There’s also the fact that even if it rains for days the clothes will eventually dry.

Unless you live in Bergen, Norway where it rains over 300 days a year.

This life analogy is not for you. You should stick to the box of chocolates theory. Although weather wise you probably do know what you’re going to get.

Now at last check I had 0 followers from Norway so let’s go back to ignoring them and focusing on me.

As of next week I am officially unemployed. I resigned in December but the school holidays are almost over and I have no school to go back to.

No new children to meet. No names to learn and no parents that I must force myself not to roll my eyes at.

Come next week I will be a lady of leisure.

2017 is my year of hanging out the washing on a cloudy day and seeing if dries.

I’m going to go out and do things.

Not sure what things but things will be done.

I will dedicate a portion of my day to breathing deeply. Not a big portion mind you because I’ll be so busy doing the things.

So to you and to you and all that are afar off (but not in Norway) I wish you well.

Love me. xx

Paying for pain…

I had a horrible nights sleep last night.

My darling 7 year old son came into bed with me just after midnight and proceeded to smother me while almost pushing me out of bed and stealing all the blanket.

Thankfully my mum was visiting and took the kids to the movies. I was supposed to go to but decided to stay home and sleep.

After an hour of solid sleep I awoke and went to get a massage from the local shops.

I’ve had a sore shoulder for a while and quick massage usually makes it feel better.

I told the large lady masseuse that my right shoulder was sore and she proceeded to nearly pull my arm off my body.

Sometimes she was just one handed seemingly pushing my bones from the back of my body through my chest.

Half way through the massage I closed my eyes. Not because it felt nice but because I thought I’d be dead when it was over and it’s not classy to die with your eyes open.

At the end instead of doing the karate chop things on my back she just seemed to slap me all over.

Then I paid $20 and she gave me a card because if you keep coming back you get $5 off your 6th massage.

I think I’d be dead by the 6th massage.

So it was a strangely not relaxing afternoon.

And if the kid gets out of his bed tonight there will be trouble.

Or I’ll just write an equally whingey post for you all tomorrow.


Adventures over…


I’m back home now. I’m still wearing the hotel slippers though. I’m acclimatising to life being back home after my holiday.

I was a little put out today when nobody made me banana pancakes for breakfast.

Bali was lovely most of the time.

I still seemed to be in charge of ordering meals and taking care of laundry and making sure that everyone stayed alive.

When I say making sure everyone stayed alive I also meant a stranger in a book shop.

There was a man who knocked over some books and then collapsed on the ground and then started fitting.

Turns out Balinese book shop staff are not that equipped for first aid emergencies.

Me on the other hand. I propped up his head with a bag to stop in banging on the hard tile floor.

I checked that the frothing in his mouth wasn’t obscuring his breathing.

I checked his bum bag/fanny pack (both terms equally awful) for any medication or sign that his seizure was due to a medical condition.

The four shop assistants were running around for water and didn’t seem to know how to call an ambulance or a doctor.

Another lady stepped in and we became a team.

She told me to check for his name and I did.

It was Gilles and he was French.

Now picture me leaning over this large frothing man trying to pronounce Gilles 15 different ways.

We got him a drink of water and a cool towel and we decided that it was probably just an extreme case of dehydration.

I knew he was better when he started picking his nose.

Once we had him sitting up and conscious I had to go and meet my family. I was hot and flustered.

I thought I was okay but found it hard to sleep that night.

But all cool eh? My first aid training came back to me and I was super girl but with my undies on the inside.

A few days later we saw a couple crash their motorbike into the curb nearby. Lots of other people rushed to help them so I got to walk away.

Bali was fun but an adventure.

The kids mosquito bites are starting to stop itching and I’ve gotten over my fear that they have contracted the Zika virus.

So I have to make my own breakfast in this morning and I have a slight phobia of book shops now but it’s nice to be home.