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The Morning Person

The clock radio read 6.00am when she sprang out of bed full of vim and vigor. She was greeted by a view of the rising sun, a luminous mango colored orb hovering gracefully over the glassy ocean from her bedroom window. She slid on a pair of jeans noting that they were feeling slightly looser around the hips and wandered downstairs. There her husband stood in front of the sink. Warm, soapy water caressed his muscular forearms as he scrubbed the last of the breakfast dishes. Apparently her seven  and four year girls had both eagerly gobbled up their Weet-bix and fruit without complaint. Having shunned the morning cartoons they were now playing together happily in the family room. The tune of happy giggling made for soothing background music.

Not Dadabs but close enough.

Not Dadabs but close enough.

Mumabs took the opportunity to escape and headed out into the glorious morning sunshine to her local high street.  She ordered a large skinny cappuccino at her favorite hipster cafe and made mildly flirtatious banter with the handsome strawberry blonde barrista. His resemblance to Tom Hiddleston was uncanny she marveled. If that were not invigorating enough, the first sip of milky ambrosia brought her fully to life. She even contemplated jogging back home but dismissed that thought as a momentary lapse in sanity.

When she arrived back at Chez Abulous she found her computer unoccupied. Her seven year old had not commandeered it to watch Total Drama Island. She sat at her uncluttered desk. It was remarkably clear of kids artwork and general debris. In this zen like space she got in a good 10 minutes of uninterrupted social media time.

Breakfast was also a leisurely affair. She savored every mouthful of Bircher muesli with grated pink lady apple whilst scrolling through Facebook on her phone. (Which nobody snatched from her in order to take innumerable butt selfies)

Then she attended to her morning ablutions without an audience. Happily her daughters were starting to appreciate the value of bathroom privacy. Her hot shower was particularly luxurious for not being punctuated by screams of “Muuuuuuuuum, Muuuuuuum”. Indeed she relished being able to stand in the cubicle serenely contemplating Michael Fassbender the day ahead without the interruption of a small person attempting to bash the bathroom door down. Apparently this morning no one urgently needed a piece of fruit cut up – or if they did it could at least wait for five minutes.

 

A place for quiet contemplation.

A place for quiet contemplation.

When she emerged clean and refreshed her girls were brushing their teeth unassisted. Her seven year old got dressed without detouring via the computer to watch yet another episode of Total Drama Island. The delightful first grader put on her fresh underwear and school tunic without jumping on the bed or performing a rousing  rendition of Katy Perry’s Firework. The proverbial icing on the cake was the manner in which Miss 7 donned her white cotton school socks without complaining about lumps and itchiness.

Meanwhile the four year old had eschewed her normal choice of onsie or swimsuit and  dressed herself in a daycare appropriate outfit complete with sensible shoes. Mumabulous almost heard the singing of angels – Hallelujah!  Perhaps it was just Jeff Buckley on the radio.

Oh my - sequins!

Oh my – sequins!

 

Then she woke up. Reality freakin’ bites!

dishes med

 

This is what I live with.

This is what I live with.


30 Comments

Gimme Some Lovin’

If you are an aficionado of blogs and all things social media you will be aware of the epic shindig that just happened on the Gold Coast. Doubtless you know who wore what, who hung out with whom and are able to quote every drop of inspirational ambrosia that spilled from convenor Darren Rowse’s lips. The Pro-blogger event is meant to be a gathering of the who’s who of the blogeratti but this year it wasn’t. This year Mumabulous’ conspicuous absence cast a dark shadow over the hallowed halls of the QT hotel.

The entire she-bang was much the poorer for omitting my session on adding  humor to your blog through the strategic use of the word “honk”.  As I am a generous soul I will give you a small taste.

Dirk Digler for parliament. Now that’s what I call an honorable member! HONK!

A well placed visual for comic effect.

A well placed visual for comic effect.

I tell you he won’t be the biggest dirk in the joint. HONK!

And the word play keeps coming. HONK! HONK!

BTW - Its September 1 - Boregust is over.

Dirk Digler and Amber Waves in Boogie Nights. BTW – Its September 1 – Boregust is over.

Cheekiness aside, I  have been subjected to  a constant flow of shiny happy bloggers having the time of their lives through my Facebook feed. It brings back the fragile emotions of my High School days. That Goth chick not invited to the party with the cool kids – AGAIN. It sux to be me.

This is me not going to ProBlogger

This is me not going to ProBlogger

The stupid thing is I don’t feel ostracised by the blog community. As I sit alone at my desk in rainy Sydney, a glass of shiraz in hand, I am feeling the love of the blog world. It’s all because of Liebster.

LL

Liebster  is basically a chain letter that circulates the blogosphere.  Bloggers answer 10 questions about themselves then create another 10 questions for 10 fresh bloggers. The whole thing expands  exponentially until everyone in the universe is touched.

Over the past few weeks I was lucky enough to be tagged by these lovely ladies.

Kirsten & Co 

http://kirstenandco.com/

You Learn Something New Everyday (affectionately known as YLSNED)

http://emhawker.blogspot.com.au/

Hugzilla (affectionately known as the anti-thermomix)

http://hugzillablog.com/

 And I got a Versatile Bloggers Award from Pinky Poinker – same stuff, different format

http://www.pinkypoinker.com.au/

 Unfortunately I cant do justice to them all as answering 40 questions would make cumbersome reading. Instead I will stick to the first three questions from each.

First cab off the rank is Kirsten:

What was the last thing you ate?  

This afternoon Dadabulous recreated the vanilla slice of his child hood. It was a retro concoction complete with sao biscuit crust. The fancy pants even drizzled chocolate over it. More interestingly the last thing I drank was a cheeky glass of Wolf Blass Founders Selection Shiraz.

Vanilla Slice Slice Baby!

Vanilla Slice Slice Baby!

What’s your favourite colour?

I love the green of money and the pink of my pink diamond engagement ring (you need a microscope to see them but they are there.)

Photographic proof

Photographic proof

Summer or Winter?

I can answer this by saying young men don’t stride up my local high street in their bathers during winter.

Next up is YSNED:

What’s your favourite chocolate flavour?

Generally speaking if its not over 70% cacoa it doesn’t rate.  Mind you have you tried Lindt Creme Brulee? Oh My. If the essence of Fassbender were chocolatified this would be the result.

Oh my!

Oh my!

What song do you play to get you in the mood for a party?

“Its raining men” by the Weather Girls. It gets me seriously pumped for a long afternoon of pass the parcel and musical statues.

What’s the funniest/strangest way you’ve ever injured yourself?

On a first date I feel off a bar stool and hit my head on the way back up. Luckily for me the date was unchivalrous and laughed. NB:  It wasn’t Dadabulous.

Your turn Hugzilla:

What was your favourite subject at school?

History – Bonnet dramas are hawt.

How easily do you wake up when your alarm goes off?

Not very.

You could never miss a single episode of which TV show?

GAME OF THRONES!  If you skip an episode you return to find your favorite characters are dead!

Finally Pinky has asked me to relate seven things you might not know about me. In the interests of symmetry I’ll keep it to three.

1. I’ve just done a 2 day course in Illustrator hence the new look blog. Its what happens when amateurs are let loose on the Creative Cloud.

2. Whenever Dadabs chastises the girls for joking about poos and wees I burst out  laughing.

3. Nikki Minaj has confused me. I have spent all my life thinking that my size 10 butt was too big. Now it seems it is nowhere near big enough. I cant win!

 

By now anyone who’s ever blogged has been Liebstered so its time to call an official end to this.

 

Did you go to Pro-blogger and have an absolute blast? Go on rub it in.

Are you feeling loved by the blog community?

Mumabulous out.

 


35 Comments

How NOT to Blog

As I have said before this blog is differentiated by what it is NOT rather than what it is. Here is a list of things I will NOT write about in any great depth (Not that I write about anything in any great depth).

1)  F%*king Thermomix

Yawn. I fail to see how any kitchen appliance no matter how marvelous can generate so much excitement. I might be vaguely interested in a piece of kitchenware if it allowed me to toss in a handful of sunshine and lollipops, press a button and extract a fresh Michael Fassbender. Sadly to my (admittedly limited) knowledge, Thermomix as awesome as it is can’t do that yet. (Yes Melbourne Mum, (http://melbournemum.com/) I can read your mind – you’d whip up a tasty Eggs Benedict Crumpetbatch if such a device existed. Methinks a future post on Thermomix crumpets awaits. I will call it Hawtomix).

2) My Exercise Regime

This is a moot point because it currently does not exist. Nevertheless I may get back to the gym and if/when it happens do you really want to hear about how many ab crunches I did on the fit ball? On the other hand I’m happy to tell you about the entertaining sights I encounter there. I could also give you step by step instructions on how to cop a perve whilst working out but common decency forbids it.

You'd never suspect it but this lady is coping a sneaky perve.

You’d never suspect it but this lady is copping a sneaky perve.

3) Personal Growth

I have experienced considerable personal growth over the last few months. Its just a shame that’s its concentrated on the upper thighs – see point number 2.

4) How To Dress Like Nina Proudman

I have nothing against the way Nina Proudman dresses. On the contrary I think she looks fabulous but I’m not onboard with the interweb’s current preoccupation with getting the Nina look the morning after Offspring airs.  If however you need advice on how to look like a balmy old bat this blog is for YOU.

Take that Nina Proudman! $10 Panda Slippers from K-mart.

Take that Nina Proudman!
$10 Panda Slippers from K-mart.

5) Gardening

If I had a Lady Chatterly’s Lover type tale to tell I might blog about the gardening. How I would wax lyrical about dirty hoes and the like (HONK). Alas there are no (ahem) rakes in my life to speak of.

I have raved ad nausea about Dadabs stellar career as a software developer and all round whiz kid. Did you know he is also an accomplished hacker? He successfully hacked into our hedge over the weekend. That’s the extent of the gardening action at Chez Abs.

This is NOT a gardening blog!

This is NOT a gardening blog!

6) Creative Table Settings

If a picture tells 1,000 words – here’s a 2,000 word dissertation on the subject of creative table settings.

Where's The Awesome Fun?

Where’s The Awesome Fun?

sweet brown

 

7) Knitting

When I talk about big needles playing with wool is not what I have in mind. HONK!

Oh my! They're huge!

Oh my! They’re huge!

8) Crafting In General

When you have primary school aged children crafting is a necessary evil. As you are probably all too well aware Book Week and the obligatory  Book Character Parade is upon us. This means that mothers ( I would say parents but lets face it – its usually the Mums who get saddled with this) everywhere have to flex a bit of creative muscle and come up with a costume. This year my P1 is not content to go with a traditional fairy tale heroine. No Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Alice in Wonderland or even Tinkerbell for her – all options that would have allowed me to purchase a bog standard outfit from K-mart. No my P1 wants to go as one of the very hip and modern Rainbow Fairies.

This one to be precise.

Glitter fairy

Oh my – this character would be in high demand on Sydney’s Mardi Gras night. I think you’ll all agree that I “nailed it.”

 

This is NOT a crafting blog!

This is NOT a crafting blog!

 

After excluding the items on the above list I have little recourse but to blog about the pop culture, my husband  very, very occasionally the political situation and more occasionally still – science.

What topics are forbidden in your little corner of the interwebs?

Love

Mumabulous

NB: I have leaned heavily on the Hugzilla blog regarding points #1 and #4. This makes me a leaner, not a lifter and hence a scourge upon our nation according to Joe Hockey.

 http://hugzillablog.wordpress.com/


15 Comments

A Recipe For Chaos

This blog tends to avoid culinary related matters unless we are talking about tasty crumpet. There are a plethora of bloggers out there with expensive cameras and a sprinkle of talent who can do the food porn thing way better than I could ever hope to. Nevertheless Mumabulous does like to spice things up. So today I am going to share with you an example of modern Australian cooking straight from Hells Kitchen, or as some people prefer to call it – Canberra.

Modern Australian cuisine

Modern Australian cuisine

Ingredients

  • One fractured global economy
  • One unsustainable fiscal structure
  • One biased and polarized media
  • An utterly dysfunctional ALP
  • A generous splash of factional infighting
  • Half a cup of high level corruption
  • A dash of union toadying
  • One troupe of ideological zealots with a penchant for marginalizing the only voices of rationality within (alternatively known as The Coalition)
  • A teaspoon of climate change denial
  • A heaped cup of business lobbying
  • An assortment of self interested crazies (alternatively known as the Palmer United Party, Motor Enthusiasts Party or RevHead Party)
  • A tablespoon of naive dewy eyed idealists (The Greens)
  • One very pissed off Australian public
That aint humble pie

That aint humble pie

Chefs Note:  Under no circumstances should compassion for marginalized groups such as the elderly, the unemployed, the working poor, the sick, the disabled or refugees be added to the mix.

Method

  • Puree your leader as frequently as possible
  • Shred your (poorly explained ) policy at the slightest sign of public disapproval
  • Cook up the lamest election campaign in the history of democracy
  • Blend catchy but ultimately meaningless slogans with frequent appearances in Speedos
  • Mix a faux debt crisis with a scare campaign about the carbon tax
  • Mince public health and education
  • Knead the less well off into submission
  • Roll out a set of unpalatable policies
  • Chefs Note: Adding credible opposition policies at this point will cause the mix to spoil
  • Place the minor parties in a senate shaped saucepan and stir over heat
  • Continue until the whole thing boils over
  • Dissolve both houses.
  • Start again.

What a dog’s breakfast!  No wonder the Australian public has lost its collective taste for politics.

A dog's breakfast.

A dog’s breakfast.

Love

Mumabulous

Australia gets the raw prawn

Australia gets the raw prawn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


31 Comments

Ridiculous

On a daily basis I will encounter at least half a dozen things that strike me as ridiculous. I’m not talking ridiculous in an awesome way like Weird Al Yankovic – an individual who can spin silliness into gold. I’m talking about palm on forehead, there’s no hope for the human race type ridiculousness.

Musical alchemist -turns shite into gold.

Musical alchemist -turns shite into gold.

Perhaps its yet another sign that I am morphing into my parents as I age.  Alternatively just maybe stupidity abounds and I am just noticing the tip of the proverbial ice berg. As Einstein himself said.

Einstein-Quotes-med

The butt of many jokes

Mumabulous grapples with the BIG issues and right now I can’t find an issue bigger than this

Nicki Minaj's enhanced butt.

Nicki Minaj’s enhanced butt.

Now here’s an album cover I (and the rest of the world) wasn’t ready for. My girls struck more elegant poses whilst they were potty training. Meanwhile that pink G-string will never be extracted. Scientific wisdom has it that not even light can escape from a black hole. Better not get too close!

Social media mafia

Imagine this scenario. You are a young, upcoming mafioso in Sicily. Your extortion racket is cruising along nicely. You need respect. Its important to cultivate a carefully crafted image. Naturally you take to social media where you post painstakingly posed photos of yourself enjoying the fruits of your labour at all the right restaurants, clubs and beaches. Its mandatory that you boast about your criminality. I mean if you rip off  hard working small businesses but dont post about it on Facebook did it really happen?

Talk about FB mafia!

Talk about FB mafia!

The cops are notoriously behind the curve when it comes to technology. However surprisingly they do have a basic grasp of Facebook and Twitter. Ergo the duckfaced Tony Soprano wanna-be pictured is now in prison and his tale of woe is all over the international media.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2714810/From-omerta-online-Modern-mafia-bosses-break-tradition-generations-secrecy-flaunting-wealth-power-Facebook.html

The link above alone attracted 655 comments questioning this criminal mastermind’s masculinity. I particularly enjoyed this quip:

They started at the Bottom and worked their way up.

I’m sure its not the look the guy was hoping to project.

Where to put it

Babies notoriously don’t come with a set of instructions but luckily public conveniences do.

Thanks for clearing that up.

Thanks for clearing that up.

I dont want to imagine the scenario that made this sign necessary but apparently some people cant work out that loo paper goes in the loo.

Head in the clouds

I am not against public art per-se but Clover Moore’s most recent proposal strikes me as a bit excessive. “The Cloud Arch” will soar 75m above George Street and cost around $9m. To me looks like Christina Hendricks (of Mad Men fame) silhouetted against the city skyline – a view which most male Sydneysiders would doubtless appreciate.

Cloud Arch

Cloud Arch

See the resemblance?

See the resemblance?

Nevertheless in these austere times I can think of about 9m better things to spend $9m on. In fact I’d like to suggest a cheaper alternative. I’m envisaging an arch over George Street in the shape of one of Clover Moore’s signature studded chokers. Sydney would  have an arch (which it apparently needs) and Clover’s style would be immortalized – win-win!

The end

I’m calling it. The current fad of serving breakfast cereal, kale smoothies and god knows what else in pre-loved jam jars is over. I saw this in the free Woolworths magazine – a clear sign that every last drop of cool has been rung out of this trend. (Sadly I was reading the Woolies mag in bed clad in my flannel PJs – just be glad I don’t do selfies) Hipster foodies everywhere will be forced to move on. Meanwhile I have no shame and would happily consume alcohol from a jam jar if that were the only serving option.

Cool no more.

Cool no more.

Me too

Today I too was whacked with the silly stick. It was high time to take my loose coin collection to the bank. We transferred it to a bucket for easy cartage. The problem was that the bucket was too heavy for my feeble arms to carry more than a few paces. Hence I placed the bucket in one of my husband’s wheeled storage containers from Bunnings.

Heavy freight.

Heavy freight.

I then dragged this contraption several blogs down the street in full view of hipster cafes to my bank only to find it did not have one of those new fangled coin counting machines. The lovely young teller offered to cart the bucket to the neighboring bank which does have a coin counting machine rather than total it up himself. We stepped out into the sunlight there it was like a gift from God – an abandoned shopping trolley! I transferred everything to the trolley and trundled up the street looking like a complete dork albeit an aided dork.

The moral to this story is that $420 is worth dorkifying yourself in front of your entire suburb for. The other moral is don’t allow your coinage to build up – spend it!

What’s completely ridiculous in your life right now.

Love

Mumabulous

 

 


16 Comments

I’ve Been Thinking About…

I’ve been thinking about Katy Perry and so has Reservoir Dad.

http://www.reservoirdad.com/blog/reservoir-dad/secret-celebrity-fantasies-an-intimate-conversation

Your husband probably has been too if the truth be known.  I am coming at the whole Katy Perry phenomena from an entirely different (ahem) angle. With her curvilicious bombshell image and her catalogue of  irrepressiblely catchy tunes its no wonder that Ms Perry is among the most popular female artists on the planet. Nevertheless I believe that she could expand her popularity even further. Currently she’s ignoring the married, middle aged but not dead yet demographic. With just a little lyrical tweaking Katy could bring this potentially massive audience into the fold.

For instance “Hot and Cold” could be rewritten to describe the trials and tribulations of sharing a doona. “Roar” celebrates self actualisation and is a mighty positive message for the kids yada yada yada. Perhaps the song would resonate more deeply with long term marrieds if it were reworded thus

 I got the rattle of a chain saw, fell asleep after red wine
‘Cause I am pissed and you’re gonna hear me snore
Louder, louder than an elephant
‘Cause I am pissed and you’re gonna hear me snore
ZZZZZ ZZZZZZ ZZZZZZ
ZZZZZ ZZZZZ ZZZZZ
ZZZZZ ZZZZZ ZZZZZZ
You’re gonna hear me snore

Had too much red wine now you're gonna hear me snore.

Had too much red wine now you’re gonna hear me snore.

The risque “Happy Birthday” no doubt has some appeal with the over 40s gents. I’d suggest it would appeal even more if instead of

So let me get you in your birthday suit
It’s time to bring out the big balloons
So let me get you in your birthday suit
It’s time to bring out the big, big, big, big, big, big balloons

it went something like

So let me get you in your sox and jocks
It’s time to bring out the big Bunnings gift card
So let me get you in your sox and jocks
It’s time to bring out the big, big, big, big, big, big Bunnings gift card

What he wanted.

What he wanted.

What he got.

What he got.

I know for a fact that a Bunnings gift card would excite my husband far more than balloons in any sense of the word.

Then of course there’s “Teenage Dream” which could be re-imaged 25 years later with “Middle-aged dream”

Gonna get your heart racing

In my baggy Mom jeans

Be a middle aged dream tonight

And the hits keep coming as it were.

On the opposite end of the spectrum P1, my seven year old is currently obsessed with The Voice Kids. She was obsessed with MasterChef Kids but has decided that singing is easier than cooking. In two years time she’ll be old enough to compete and you can be sure that the franchise will not have disappeared by then.  P1 is taking advantage of the time lag by cramming in as much practice as possible. And yes we are hearing her “Roar”.

If I have gleaned anything from the program its that Delta is supremely irritating. Otherwise I’ve observed that the pint sized performers show a maturity beyond their years. The choice of material is often very adult. Young’ens belt out “Not pretty enough”, “The this girl is on fire” etc like they’ve lived and breathed every word. Of course they are all unbelievably talented but I like to see kids being kids. It would be so refreshing if a contestant got up and breathed new life into a school yard classic like

Jingle bells, Batman smells

Robin flew away

Wonder Woman 

Lost her bosom

All on Christmas Day

Hey!

batman-smells-christmas-song med

Or

Jesus Christ, Superstar

Riding down the street on his Yamaha

Cops were there

But he dont care

‘Cause he’s in bullet proof underwear

 Then there’s the timeless classic

Mama mia

I’ve got diarrhoea

10/4 open up the dunny door

Too late

All over the kitchen floor

Alternatively

Too late

Done it on a dinner plate

Even at their young and tender ages my girls are showing an aptitude for making up puerile lyrics and I am not discouraging it. I may have laughed when they celebrated the end of toilet training with this little ditty;

“Now you’re just a potty 

Where I used to go”

I may have also let out a gigle when they worked their magic on that 90s dance floor anthem by C&C Music Factory

Everybody dance now

Pull your buddies pants down

Everybody fart now

Brrrrp, brrp, brrp, brrrp

It seems the apple doesn’t fall too far away from the tree and I couldn’t be prouder. Meanwhile Dadabs rolls his eyes and pretends not to know us.

Would you like to see pop music pitched at the middle aged? How about kids action like kids instead of mini Mariah Careys on kids programming?

Love

Mumabulous

Its Katy Perry : 1, Mumabs: 0

Its Katy Perry : 1, Mumabs: 0


29 Comments

10 Things I Am Over

As I know you enjoy my middle class whining so much, I’m doing a 10 to 1 countdown of things I have thoroughly had the Richard with. Without any further ado;

10. Bore-gust.

I introduced this concept in a post that nobody read. Basically its like Dry July except the booze is staying (along with chocolate and coffee). Instead I am sacrificing posting about hawties on this blog for the entire month of August – hence the catchy name – Bore-gust. August is only a few days in and I am over it already! Nevertheless I am a woman of my word and I will restrain myself until at least September 1.

9. Cherry Pits.

Whose idea was it to place a tooth shattering stone in the middle of the world’s most succulent and tasty fruit? Oh right – it was Mother Nature’s. Its just more evidence (along with menstruation ) that she is a bitch. Doesn’t humanity have the technology to genetically engineer this minor inconvenience out of existence? Just because we can means we should right?

Good one - Mother Nature!

Good one – Mother Nature!

8. Kids Swimming Lessons

Dont you just love standing around the public pool – NOT? I can feel the brain cells literally dying in my skull whilst my eyes tear up from all the chlorine gas in the vicinity. Then after half an hour of my life that I’ll never get back watching my child do laps, I get to tackle the sodden change room. Its even worse when I have to take two them and watch them simultaneously instead of wasting even more time flicking through Facebook on my phone.  How I loathe swimming lessons – almost as much as

7. The Park

I have had seven years of standing around  public parks. I am completely over it. Mind you if there is a nearby cafe and some half decent company I can bear it on a good day.

6. Dieting

I began restricting my food intake at age 14 when some of my harder edges naturally began to soften. That’s thirty years of being on a diet. Thirty long years of skipped desserts and not having fries with that.  I only allowed myself an entire ice block when I was pregnant. These days I have been known to do crazy shite like buying chocolate honey comb bars, taking  few bites and throwing the rest in the bin.  I’ve even tried Jenny Craig when my weight hit a high point. It was a complete failure. I am over it. I want to eat all the food.

Like these delicious triple chocolate brownies I made with P1.

Like these delicious triple chocolate brownies I made with P1.

5. Double Drop Off.

My husband’s office is a simple 30 minute bus ride from my home. However when you have young kids nothing is simple. I drop P1 at the her school whilst fending off various whinges. Then I drive to the next suburb, deposit P2 in daycare and explain yet again to the staff why she is inappropriately dressed. Once liberated from children I negotiate the labyrinth of backstreets to find free all day parking. With the car securely anchored I make like the Proclaimers and walk 500 miles then I will walk 500 more just to be the Mum who misses the bus to Central Station. The whole process takes about 90 minutes by which time I collapse at my desk.

4. Double Pick Up

Reverse the above in the afternoon and throw in some shopping along the way. Exhausted by the double pick up and drop off its all I can do to throw together dinner for my family. Which leads to me to the next thing I am over

3. Cooking dinner

I make an effort  to give my family a variety of healthy but tasty cuisine. However it difficult to keep ones cooking mojo up when one’s endeavours are met with constant criticism. For example  the other week I produced a hearty beef bourguignon (with tender beef cheeks) only to have P2 declare it tasted like ” one thousand bugs crawling in my underpants”.  I suppose if you are going to be an ungrateful wretch you may as well be creative about it.

Funnily I never get these sorts of comments from the kids on pizza or taco night. Instead I get them from my husband! Last night he complained about my use of the wheat based stand and stuff tacos. He preferred the corn chip type apparently. I may have become ever so slightly unhinged at that. I may have uttered something unprintable.

2. Washing Dishes

It is said that there is nothing certain in life except for death and taxes. I would like to add a few items to this list of life’s certainties.

- politicians of all persuasions are fundamentally unlikeable

- if you’re a Mum you’ll spend half your life doing the dishes.

- your husband will never do the dishes voluntarily meaning you’ll have to resort to threats and promises.

My autobiography - Dishes - The Story of my Life.

My autobiography – Dishes – The Story of my Life.

1. Wiping Bums

This should be self evident. Back in the Jurassic age when I was managing a stockbroking back office I used to joke that I had to wipe the dealers bums metaphorically.  I had no idea what lay in store.

 

What are you over?

Mumabulous