Is Your Blog You?

I have a some regular readers who I actually know  in real life (IRL). I can count them on the fingers of one hand. The tone of their feedback can be thus summed up;

“I didn’t know you were funny” and “The stuff you write is so out there but its nothing like you. You are so quiet and polite”.  They haven’t seen me on a Friday night bender making a twat of myself but its a fair assessment. In real life Brenda keeps Mumabulous on the inside which is as uncomfortable as it sounds.  Firstly I don’t often talk or make jokes about things like the The Large Hadron Collider, particle physics and nuclear fusion as I do on the blog. The reasons are threefold –  a) most of the people  have zero interest in this stuff. They’d assume I’m on drugs when clearly I dont need drugs, b) I’d sound desperately try hard and c) I’d appear an  ignoramus to anyone with basic scientific knowledge. So sadly the crumpet that is Prof Brian Cox doesn’t weave his way into my everyday conversation. Its such as shame when there’s stuff like this floating around my interwebs. Nerdom doesn’t get much hotter.

Brenda would never tell you just how excited this makes her. That's a job for Mumabs.

Brenda would never tell you how excited this gets her.  That’s a job for Mumabs.

Let’s move from scientific crumpet to crumpet as a general concept.  Brenda is not a mobile billboard for baked breakfast products.  I don’t pepper my normal discourse with comments like “Phwoar! –  that Damien Lewis is a crumpet topped with strawberry jam”. Even though it is an unarguable fact.  Nor do I bombard my real friends with faux-vertisements like this. No blog fans – I save this shite for YOU.*

Can you believe George Weston foods still hasn't called?

Can you believe George Weston foods still haven’t called?

My next admission will shock you to the core. My role as Fassbassador doesn’t extend to real life. I don’t go around Fass-eminating at every opportunity. Could you imagine if I did? Conversations would go like this ;

Friend: Hi. How are you?

Brenda: Oh Fass-tastic. Last time I looked Michael Fassbender was still infeasibly hawt!

Friend: Right.  Beautiful day isn’t it?

Brenda: Sure. Everyday is beautiful when Fass is in it.  You know why its unseasonably mild? Scientists have proven that heat radiating from Fass is warming the oceans. That’s  how infeasibly hawt he is.

Friend: Wrong – its all Channing Tatum! I don’t want to talk to you anymore!

Unfortunately for you guys this blog is the only place I can vent my Fass-tration.

But you CAN blog about it until the cows come home.

But you CAN blog about it until the cows come home.

One thing that Brenda and Mumabulous have in common is our passionate advocacy for Rangas. From the moment I laid eyes on Eric Stolz  I decreed natural red hair to be the most  desirable physical trait a human could have.  I was alarmed by claims that red heads would become extinct  by 2060 and vowed to do my utmost to preserve the species. On the fateful evening when I met Dadabulous ( exactly 9 years ago to this day*), he had the most glorious cascade of shoulder length red curls. It was tied back in a cheeky pony tail and teamed with a navy bomber jacket and boots. We sank red wine,  discussed New Scientist magazine and he paid for everything. Single ‘Abulous was finished.

I am very proud to have co-created two beautiful girls with locks like rose gold and feel great satisfaction from having done my bit for the ginger race.

I've done my bit for the future.

I’ve done my bit for the future.

Meanwhile reports of  impending ranga annihilation were proven  false.  Red heads will be with us beyond the next millennium which is a  blessing for human kind. Could you imagine a world without –

Eric Stolz. My prototype red hawt ranga.

Eric Stolz. My prototype red hawt ranga*


I repeat - Damien Lewis is a fine piece of crumpet topped with strawberry jam. Mmmmmm

Damien Lewis – Oh my, that’s a penetrating stare. *

Heck I’ll even admit to fancying post Harry Potter Rupert Grint even though its extremely age inappropriate.

Oh my how you've grown Ron. I need to take a shower.

How you’ve grown Ron. (I need to take a shower.)

But this is taking things way too far.

I cant go for that.  The carpet most certainly doesnt match the drapes.

I cant go for that. The carpet most certainly doesn’t match the curtains.

Of course, there are many things going on in Brenda’s life that Mumabulous can’t touch.  Office life and family relations could feed the blog  for at least a year. Unfortunately Brenda needs to keep these things running smoothly over the long term so Mumabulous is banned from the territory. If Brenda does get fired or has a family fall out, Mumabulous  wont be to blame. Meanwhile Brenda and Mumabulous will both try to keep you entertained. If we ever met in person Brenda is bound to be quiet and polite at least until three standard drinks are consumed. Only then will Mumabulous break free of her leash.

How about you? How much does your blog reflect who you really are? Do your friends have trouble reconciling the shizz you put on the interwebs and the quiet sweet girl they know? What happens when you meet other bloggers IRL?

Meanwhile I’ll leave you with the immortal words of Split Enz – “When my baby’s walking down the street. I see red, I see red, I see red”.


Mumabulous & Brenda

* This really is for YOU. I don’t like brand Beckham. Well I guess he is kind of acceptable if he just stands there and says nothing.

* April 29th is the 9th anniversary of my first date with Dadabs.

* From the movie Memphis Belle which I may have watched more than once.

* Hey Melbourne Mum – Down girl. Down! 😉



We’re all recoiling in shock over the hideous events in Connecticut. There’s a world wide outpouring of grief and condolences on social media because it is all we can really do. Even a small digital expression of support is better than nothing. At the very least the families of the victims know that the thoughts and prayers of millions are with them. There is no doubt that this tragedy will dominate the airways over the coming weeks. We can only hope that it will lead to concrete changes in gun control in the USA. The fact that a clearly mentally unstable young man had access to fire arms is to me and most reasonable people unfathomable.

I’ve nothing much more to add to the discussion. Only that when news like this comes through it makes me ponder the human condition. How can people be so mind blowingly brilliant and so completely messed up at the same time?  I’m flicking through the New Scientist, as I do when my poor frazzled brain can cope with it.  Dadabulous subscribes so we receive around 60 pages crammed with human achievement every week.  Take page 18 in this latest edition for example. We’re told that scientists in Italy are working on ways to regenerate cells in the adult human heart so that heart attack suffers can return to pristine health. Amazing. The column directly underneath describes how researchers at the University of Pittsburgh have devised a non invasive way of stimulating the brain so as to improve movement in people with spinal cord injuries. Jaw droppingly awesome stuff. The cover story is about how completely clean fuel is within our grasp using algae. Major players like General Electric, BP and Google are putting their money behind the technology. It seems that a carbon neutral utopia is knocking. We can’t we just answer the door and let it it?

The power to heal broken hearts?

The power to heal broken hearts?

Of course science is nothing without compassion but humans have that in spades. Within the Connecticut tragedy there are tales of remarkable bravery and selflessness. A music teacher saved the lives of 15 students by barricading them in a closet whilst the crazed gun man was outside demanding to be let in. Another teacher protected her class by hiding them in a bathroom and covering the door with a bookshelf. Whilst cowering inside she told each of the children that she loved them because she believed it may have been the last thing they would hear. Thanks to her actions the kids will go on to hear that again and again.

Just think of all the incredible things that have happened during our lifetime’s – internet, mobile phones, micro surgery, the Mars Rovers. Humans have done all this and yet we have Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Rwanda, the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, the sovereign debt crisis and now innocent children being gunned down at their primary school. Nothing can offset the this kind of loss but I need to believe in the good side of the human race – our bravery and our brilliance. I need to believe we can make things better and that the struggle will be worthwhile.

Do you believe there is hope for human kind?



A place full of bravery and brilliance.

A place full of bravery and brilliance.

I apologize for an uncharacteristically ponderous piece and promise to get back to my mickey taking self toot sweet.

photo credit: WolfS♡ul via photopin cc

photo credit: IronRodArt – Royce Bair (“Star Shooter”) via photopin cc


Christmabulous – My Christmas Wish List

You’ve probably noticed a challenge circulating around our lovely blogging community this week. It started on Tuesday when the diary writing SAHM now known as Essentially Jess (http://essentiallyjess.com/) published her Top 5 Christmas wish list and invited five of her favorite bloggers to do the same. Now we are down to the second round and the baton has been passed to me by Kevin from The Illiterate Infant (http://illiterateinfant.com/2012/12/04/my-christmas-wish-list/).  I am feeling chuffed about this as I very much admire Kevin’s work.  Yet there’s no time to stand around with my perky chest puffed out. I need to sprint to deliver the baton to the next runner. So get set go!

My Christmas Wish List

 1) Thinner thighs

Other bloggers have asked for tummy tucks and boob jobs or better still to be miraculously restored to their pre-children form.  I thought my pre-child shape sucked and have no real desire to go back there. I’ve wished for thinner thighs, slimmer hips and firmer buns consistently every Christmas since age 14 to no avail.  How sweet life would be if I had minimal junk in the trunk and didn’t jiggle when I wiggle? How triumphant would it be to slip on a pair skinny jeans in a single digit size? But hang on a minute – Dadabulous likes me the way I am. Perhaps this is a waste of a wish.. Perhaps I should be  magnanimous and wish for something like…

2) A Major Scientific Breakthrough

2012 will be remembered as the year that the rock stars of the particle physics universe discovered the Higgs Boson. Like just about everyone else I only have the most basic grasp of what this all means. The Higgs is supposed to confer mass to all other particles or something like that. Its a big deal but wouldn’t the opposite be more useful?  What if the nerd herd found a particle that takes away mass? Think of the marvelous practical applications. Perhaps it could be added to ice cream, chocolate, custard, cakes, chips, pork crackling and every other “naughty” food. Those longing for thinner thighs could indulge as much as they liked and still lose mass thanks to the anti-Higgs. Why science is not focusing on this instead of global warming, the energy crisis and a cure for cancer is beyond me.

Forget Higgs - lets look for the weight loss particle.

Forget Higgs – lets look for the weight loss particle.

3) A House keeper

I love Chez ‘Abulous but we have one of those terribly trendy sadomasochistic relationships. She is a cruel, cruel task master. Those polished wooden floor boards are unforgiving. The toy room would be like the infamous “red room of pain”* if it were red. Denuding the floor of toys and food scraps every day is certainly a pain. The floor to ceiling sliding glass panels are divine. Keeping them clean – not so much. Tell tale grubby finger marks on glass detracts from the sleek modern yet relaxed atmosphere. I’m probably the only mother in the world to complain about having too many bathrooms but  I have five toilets to scrub. Five shots of toilet bleach exceeds World Health Organisation recommendations.  I nearly asphyxiated this afternoon. Did that happen in 50 Shades?

A housekeeper would mean liberation for me. If he came in the shape of Michael Fassbender all the better.

4) A Holiday

I’m not talking about dragging the family up to Dunbogan again (although it is truly lovely). I’m talking about a real holiday without the kids. I covet an entire week in some idyllic and secluded location where I could be free to sleep, read and daydream. Of course it would be essential to bring my butler, Michael Fassbender, along.

Cheers to a Fass-tastic Xmas.

Cheers to a Fass-tastic Xmas.

5) The World To Wake Up

The world needs to wake up to itself and stop fighting over scraps of land, pumping CO2 into the air and stripping the rain forests yada yada yada. It also needs to wake up to my unique genius. I wish to be paid for my pearls of wit and wisdom and to make some kind of income doing what I love.

So that’s it. If finished my bolt and I’m handing the baton over to:

This Charming Mum

This Charming Mum

Crap Mamma


The Adventures Of A Subversive Reader (And A Baby Squirm)

I Am A Life Blogger - Adventures of a Subversive Reader

Enid Bite ‘Em


Charlotte’ s Musings


Merry Christmas Mumrades.

* I swear I haven’t read 50 Shades but I know all the action takes place in a “Red Room of Pain”. This kind of information seeps in by osmosis.

photo credit: ulterior epicure via photopin cc


Small Mysteries

Last Tuesday I published a post entitled Great Mysteries where I spoke about certain modern phenomena which has science scratching its collective head. I promised a follow up and as I am Mumabulous I have delivered. This time I’m turning my attention to some of those smaller household mysteries. Mundane as they are, they still have a big impact as you confront the same conundrums day after day.

The Bermuda Triangle of the House – The Laundry

I like to describe the laundry as the Bermuda Triangle of the house (even though its strictly rectangular in most cases) because so much weird shite goes down in there. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was revealed that washing machines are actually mini Tardii ( whatever the plural of Tardis is ). Heck if the current Dr Who was to pop out when I open the lid washing would be so much more fun. ( How hot is Matt Smith? Hotter than a hot wash cycle? Hotter than a hot iron?)

Actually I would be happy to discover either one in my laundry.

The vanishing sock phenomena has been given ample airplay. My personal theory is that the washing machine is a portal to an alternative universe where the fabric of space time is woven from singleton socks. I had my people call the people at CERN and they agreed to use the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) to replicate conditions in the washing machine immediately after a sock disappearance. And you thought they were trying to re-enact the Big Bang! Pffft  I’m sure this experiment will revolutionize physics. In the meantime there’s another issue that has me discombobulated*.

The LHC may one day solve the mystery of the missing socks.

Its the tissue issue! Every time I attempt to wash Dadabulous’ trackie dakkies a tissue always emerges and covers the entire load with a snow like dusting of white fluff. Every-single-time. Without fail.  Just where is this tissue coming from? Is it entering via a time rift or is it concealed within a secret pouch? Which leads to the next question. Why would Dadabulous have a secret pouch in his trackies? Come to think of it – he looks a bit like Homeland’s Damien Lewis (lucky me). Perhaps he is really a terrorist? Perhaps he is plotting to destroy western civilization one wash load at the time? Nah – I’m going with the time rift. Dadabulous doesn’t sew anything let alone secret pouches.

Missing socks and tissues aren’t the only oddities to contend with in the laundry. We have to remain vigilant against the soap powder boxes. No matter how gingerly you attempt to open the box, its contents always spill out onto the laundry bench like a powdery waterfall. Every-single-time. Without fail. Just why is this? Is laundry powder actually a living organism, which dashes for freedom when it exposed to light. I’m offering up an Ig Nobel prize for the first person to solve this riddle. Are you listening Dr Karl?

A force that can not be contained?

The Car Seat Effect

Have you noticed the strange effect that the car seat has upon your offspring. It seems that there is something about being strapped safely into the seat that triggers 1) ravenous hunger, 2) unquenchable first or 3) a bowel movement. Sometimes all three can hit simultaneously. It happens far too many times to be sheer co-incidence.  I postulate that there’s some kind of bio feed back loop going on.

The mysterious car seat effect.

My Husband’s Abs

Dadabulous is 44 years old. The only exercise he gets is taking the garbage out once a week. Nevertheless he has clearly defined six pack abs as well as bulging biceps. He spends his entire day in front of computer screens – very macho double mons. Whilst it may account for muscular fingers software development is not usually recommended by personal trainers as a quick way of getting “shredded”. I’m not complaining about having a fit looking husband. Actually I am.  Its just not fair!

What kind of weird and wonderful shite is going down in your household? How do you explain it?

Hope you are having a fabulous weekend.



photo credit: lisby1 via photopin cc

photo credit: Image Editor via photopin cc

photo credit: timsamoff via photopin cc




Great Mysteries

The extent of human knowledge is truly mind boggling. Boffins can tell us the size and chemical composition of exo planets orbiting distant stars hundreds of light years away. On the other end of the spectrum, egg heads have broken matter down to its smallest components. We can put robots on Mars, leap from the edge of space and dive to the deepest part of the oceans (at least James Cameron and Richard Branson can) but there are certain things that science is at a total loss to explain. Here are some recent phenomena which stretch the human capacity for understanding to its very limits.

1) High profile men and lewd texting.

Ever since SMS technology went mainstream it has been incriminating high profile men who quite frankly should know better.  I think that science will soon tell us that its basically a neurological problem. Once a man reaches a certain level of public prominence the filter between his brain and his fingers disappears. Peter Slipper is only the most recent example. In my opinion he should be hoisted from parliament on the basis of his stupidity never mind the misogyny. Seriously. Did he think that texting revolting comments comparing lady bits to muscle meat in brine was going to endear him to James Ashby? Did he think he was going to dazzle the pants off young James with his abbreviated wit? Most confounding of all, did he not realize that his sexting was going to come back and bite him on the backside in a MAJOR career damaging way?

Stupidity was taken to the extreme with the Weinergate scandal. I’m sure you’ll recall that US Congressman Anthony Weiner used Twitter to send a photo of wedding tackle to a young woman. This turkey was shocked to find his barely concealed package was all over the interwebs the following day. What did he think was going to happen? It’s truly a case of political power causing neurons to seriously misfire. Moreover it makes me wonder how someone so lacking in common sense could rise to a position of influence in the first place.

Eeeeeeeew Weiner by name, Weiner by dimensions!

Tiger Woods’ shenanigans are easier to explain. Tiger is imbued with a sense of his own godlike status and simply believed he could do whatever he darn felt like without consequence. He was right. His career and bank account have been largely unscathed by his textual indiscretions. Shane Warne’s case on the other hand, defies all logic. It seems the worse his  behavior, the more successful he is in life and love. This allows me to segue neatly into my next modern conundrum;

2) Liz Hurley and Shane Warne

Imagine you are Liz Hurley. You are on the dark side of 45 but nevertheless are still considered one of the world’s most beautiful women. You discard rich and powerful men like Happy Meal figurines. You can pretty much chose anyone you want but who do you go for – Warnie? WTFF? Has Liz not seen the clip that was doing the rounds of the interwebs a few years back. I’m talking about the one where a chubby Warnie is cavorting with two lingerie clad babes and a giant inflatable penis. Its as comical as it is distasteful.  For me its like a permanent cold shower. Warnie deserves to never have sex again. Some say that there’s magic in his wrist and fingers. Lets hope so for Liz’s sake.

Liz gets herself a case of Warnie.

3) Public Outrage at Things That Are Fundamentally Unshocking

I cant fathom the media furor every time some meat headed footballer has a skinful and makes a prize winning arse of himself.  I’m referring to the headlines that follow when  footballers get into a  drunken brawl, pee in the corridor of a hotel or take inappropriate photos with the family dog.  Whilst I don’t condone this behavior,  I’m certainly not shocked by it. After all the football codes are not known for attracting the brightest minds of a generation. These are quickly siphoned off to Google and Macquarie Bank instead.

Similarly I was disconcerted by the amount of controversy Broke Back Mountain provoked. Why was the concept of “gay cowboys” so outrageous to middle America? In my mind the words “gay” and “cowboy” are synonymous. There’s a cowboy in the Village People for crying out loud.

Ride ’em Cowboys!

Do you also find these things incredulous? What else would you add to the list of modern mysteries that continue to dumbfound scientific explanation?



photo credit: /amf via photopin cc

photo credit: /amf via photopin cc

photo credit: Canadian Veggie via photopin cc