I can't believe I am blogging about the weather

It is as hot as balls today.

One of the things I like about living in Brisbane, QLD is the weather; not northern enough to be too tropical, but still perfect beach/pool/water-fight weather in the warmer months, and not southern enough to really suck in the colder months. But it is only mid-September and today is hot. As balls. It's going to be 30 degrees tomorrow, which would be good if I wasn't working (and if my boss wasn't such a tight-arse with the airconditioner). I'm going to seize this warm turn and take my kiddy to the Southbank beach in the coming days, and in fact I'm going to make sure we appreciate the Southbank beach much more this summer as it was nearly gone forever after the floods.

Another reason I like living in my city is the close proximity to the ocean; 30 minutes in any easterly direction should land me at a nice body of water, and I'm digging the ocean this lifetime. I love it. I dream about it. I am convinced that I was a sailor or a fisherman in a previous life and I dream of the day when I can own a boat. It's going to be a very good hobbie because my husband won't get on it. Sorry husband, but you can be a turd sometimes and when I own my boat it is going to prove useful when we need to get out of eachother's faces. You can go off and play with the car.

So that's what's going on in my head on this sweaty day. Seriously, my thighs are starting to chafe just from swinging on this chair while I type. You're welcome!

Well, I'm all good. How are you?

Today is R U OK day, an initiative set up in 2009 to create national awareness for mental health; in particular depression and suicide. This year it is touching very close to home after the recent suicide death of a good friend's young husband. He didn't have the conversation that could've saved his life. 


Depression and suicide are unfortunately well known in my family. I remember vividly the afternoon that I found out my mum's eldest brother had taken his life; I was eight years old and chucked the shits when my brother came to my friend's house down the road to tell me to go home. I was meant to be having a sleep over and was not happy. I ran into the kitchen to start complaining to my mother but stopped in my tracks when I saw her face. She did not have an easy upbringing and her brother stepped in as parent when my grandmother wasn't there. Seeing how his death had shattered my mother has had a deep and lasting effect on me. Earlier that same year my parents' house burnt to the ground leaving us with nothing. It was a difficult time and my mum had to shoulder the burden of depression on her own for many years.


When my son was born I found myself battling with a little more that 'the baby blues'. I went to a very dark place before my husband finally tweaked and took me to a good doctor. I went on antidepressants for a little while, and wrote about that unpleasant experience here. Now I have this lovely little bottle to keep me level, and I could not be happier with it. I realize it might not be the answer for everyone who has battled depression, but I am so thankful that I gave it a try. A huge bonus is the fact that at $12 for a bottle of 60, it is a fraction of the cost of Cymbalta (which used to cos me around $50 a month), but the best part is it's all natural and isn't messing around with my body.

Bad shit happens, I know my tale isn't extraordinary. But that's the scary part; we all go through trials in our lives and this year 65,000 Australians will contemplate or attempt to take their life as a way out. It's a big number, and while I sit in my home today I find myself feeling overwhelmed. When my friend's husband took his life she put his picture onto a facebook page called Putting A Face On Suicide. I thought it was a worthwhile sentiment and liked the page, but had to hide that sucker after many teary visits to my news feed. 


This is a big issue, and more needs to be done. Mental illness is stigmatized in this country when it should be viewed the same as a physical illness. We need to treat our mental health with the same level of importance as we do our bodies; we put time in at the gym to look good so why can't we put the same effort into our mental well being? I feel very small with this issue, but today I will do what I can and open my eyes to the people around me. You should too.

It's my birthday and I'll be the BOSS if I want to

Birthday spoils 

It's my birthday today, so I've compiled a list of things that everyone needs to know about being the Birthday Boss. It's already 7:45pm, so sadly it's a little late for my family to reform for this year, but don't worry because I'll personally stick this post on the fridge for next year. 

Birthday Boss Rules

• The Birthday Boss does not have to meet with undesirables today. That may or may not include in laws who want to 'pop in for a cuppa'
• Birthday Boss should not have to prepare dinner, nor should they have the pressure put upon them to decide where to dine out
• If you take Birthday Boss somewhere crap for dinner, they are well within their rights to complain, even if you gave them the option of choosing the venue and they declined
• If any small people should require assistance in bum-wiping, it is undeniably NOT the Birthday Boss's burden to bare today
• In the unfortunate circumstance where the Birthday Boss has to work on their special day, it is of utmost importance that you give appropriate attention and sympathy to their weary bodies at the end of the day. Foot rubs aren't out
• 'But it's my birthday' is basically the all-access veto to any and every chore; baths to be run, stories to be read, dishes to be done. It's only one day of the year, and if the Birthday Boss happens to be a mum, you know damn well she has to do this crap 364 other days this year

That about covers it. 

I had a pretty decent birthday, but with a little help raising awareness about these important rules I think we can improve. And just in time for me to turn a quarter of a century in '12.

My evil genius clever guy turned three last week, and I thought it was about time I got some stuff down for him to refer to in the future. I may or may not have watched The Notebook the other day, and may or may not be 100% convinced I'm going to succumb to Old Timer's one day. (Don't google the symptoms if you want to have an ordinary life free from paranoia.) 

So Axel, listen up! Here are some of mamma's tips on life, the universe and everything:

• I know you really dig those Hotwheels cars, but baby they are sharp. Stop hiding them in the shag pile rug.
• Your 10 month old cousin is not a turtle, so please stop trying to create her shell. She spends two days a week with us now, and you sure know how to stir her up just enough to make it look like you haven't done anything and she's a crazy baby.
• I know about the stash of lollies in the bottom of your cupboard, I just haven't moved them yet because I like the peace and quiet they afford me when I'm blogging (see, I'm blogging).
• I am so, so proud of your toilet achievements. I haven't had to buy nappies for a whole month! But we really have to get a better system going for when you need help with number 2s. I'm not sure what the bank guy thought last week when he was visiting and heard "MUM, WIPE MY BUM PLEASE!" echoing down the hall.
• Oh, and on the subject of number 2s; kangarooing my toilet? Your dad's mates used to do that when they visited, but I sorted them out... I don't think I'm legally allowed to do the same to you, but I will think of something if this keeps up:   

All that said, I am pretty peachy keen on having you around. I like the tricks you do; in particular the one where you pick the worst time to come and kiss the top of my head. You humble me kid. 

Stay cool x mum

I've lost my marbles. I've gone loopy, lost the plot. The kids are currently swimming in a lounge room sea of toys, toast and clean laundry that was folded ready to be put away. I am so sick and tired of hearing my own voice that I've given up on trying to direct traffic this morning. I am battling a shitty cold and most probably a chronic case of PMS and as if that isn't enough; we are out of coffee.

It has occurred to me in the past that maybe I put a little too much pressure on myself. I recently quit my full time job because working 50 + hours and keeping up with the circus of being a wife, mother, housekeeper, cook, cleaner, laundromat, dog walker and groomer etc. etc. was turning me into a balding, babbling idiot. The icing on the mamma-guilt cake was that Axel suddenly started begging not to go to daycare. So I waited until it was financially viable for us as a household and quit my job. I took an awesome month off (annual leave, I love you) and enjoyed the wedding of my dreams and a honeymoon period that went beyond just ten days in Bali. Lots of spending and eating and drinking. Naturally as soon as we got back to normal I've taken on more work than was originally planned, including two days of babysitting my baby niece. That means I'm working seven days a week. Oops.

So something has to give, and today it's.. well, everything. Axel has been yelling at me for this whole post because he said PEANUT BUTTER NOT JAM on his toast. Tilly was chewing the computer cords for much of this post but I got up a moment ago and put her in her highchair with a scone to chew on. She is staring daggers at me; maybe she doesn't like date scones. I would normally be raging about the laundry because if there is one motherfucking chore I hate to do it's fold laundry, but today I am choosing to ignore it. Future Amy's problem. At some point I will have to tend to the children again, but for now it's me time, suckers.

Things that shit me today

In no particular order, here are the things that shit me today.

• Washing the giant white dog, then watching as he breaks the lead and runs over to the compost area
• Headache for no foreseeable reason
• Disgusting mess on my veranda thanks to drunken fools last night, particularly the smoke butts as no one that lives here smokes 
• The butcher who hit on me this morning; the first few times it was flattering but now it's just awkward and annoying and not even worth the fifty cents he takes off the dog bones
• Stupid white chef jackets that I have to launder and iron that NEVER stay white
• Chuggington. I hate your stupid song, just shut your face
• My pay is three days late and I could really use that money for food and fuel and bills thanks

Argh. Stupid woman bitching about first world problems. It's one of those days. 

Lucky Ones

I could've slept in for ever today. I am tired enough for it, and my little guy is spending some quality time with my in laws. My little sister is in town so we joined hubster and a few of his friends at the local for some drinks and dance-like-no-one's-judging fun last night. But I was sitting bolt upright this morning at the familiar time of 6:30 wondering why there wasn't a little warm body with cold feet trying to steal all the blankets. Last night (possibly the wee hours of this morning) when we returned with greasy McDonalds in hand we saw the news that a man has been charged with the murder of Daniel Morcombe, a 14 year old boy who was abducted not far from where I live in 2003. For eight years his parents have waited for answers, for closure. And now they have it, as police search through bushland on the Sunshine Coast today for his remains. Can you imagine eight years of not knowing what happened to your child? My heart has been aching for his parents this morning, as they have to face what their minds would have known for a while now, but what their hearts weren't prepared to believe.

So I could've slept in forever, heck I could be in bed right now with not a single annoying husband or needy toddler in sight. But instead I'm sitting by the window waiting for Axel to get home safely so I can squeeze his little head.