Location:Plenty Rd,South Morang,Australia

This is me.

I've been feeling really weird lately.  Kind of like I'm disconnected from life marching on around me. In the past month or so, I have felt the sharp sting of rejection, bubbling fury, the black fingers of depression pulling me into the abyss and above all, a sense of emptiness that I feared for a while could actually consume me.


Sometimes it sucks being a complex person in a world where people like to pretend they have the answers to everything, including what ails me. I don't feel the need to be defined by anything or anyone for that matter. 


So, in light of this, I'd like to introduce myself so that you can understand why I am the way I am.


If I was to describe myself in one word, I would say I'm passionate. Not in the sexual way, but just in the way I live my life. I don't do things by half and sometimes this leads to trouble...  Usually for me.  Sometimes for others.


I was sexually abused by a friend of a family friend when I was 8 and my life changed forever. My child's mind put that experience into a solid filing cabinet deep within my sub conscious and there it remained buried for almost 35 years.


I never told anyone about the sexual abuse.  I don't know why. How does an 8 year old child find the words to tell a parent that they had been raped when the concept of sexuality is a mystery.


As a direct result of this trauma, I became very introverted, shy and at one stage suffered from agoraphobia and suffered sever panic attacks.  This condition overtook me in my teens, probably the worst period in any person's life. I never sought help or told anyone because I thrived on acceptance and I feared that if people knew how pathetic and sad I was, I would be friendless for ever.


I spent my teenage years combating panic attacks and low self esteem. I believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was worthless and ugly and no one would or could ever love someone like me.  These feelings helped me hone my razor sharp tongue and biting sarcasm. I hid my fears behind a mask of humor and was regarded as a funny person with biting wit and an extensive knowledge of of all things sexual.


Little did my classmates or friends know, that due to the abuse, I was terrified of men and the thought of even kissing one brought on a panic attack. 


I know logically that I was perhaps not as hideously ugly as the reflection in the mirror.  I had my fair share of male attention. In these instances I convinced myself that there must be something seriously wrong with the young man if he found me attractive.


And so my teenage years passed in panic and anxiety. I befriended people who quite frankly treated me like shit, mainly because I allowed them too. It was only when I was in year 11 in high school that I had the opportunity to befriend a group of girls at school who genuinely liked me.


At that point, I yearned, with every fiber of my being, to find my Prince Charming, the one man who would heal by shattered heart. But the icy fingers of fear squeezed the breath out of me every time a boy tried to talk, dance or get to know me better. I became very good at being a complete and utter bitch.  "Hurt them, before they hurt me" became my philosophy. So I spent my 20's alone and miserable, praying for the right man to come along, the one who would break through the layers of protection I had put around my heart.


Throughout this entire period, I teetered towards full blown depression and then I'd swing back to being confident. Despite all of the dramas going on in my head, I held down a full time job and had a very active social life.


People who know me think I'm tough, strong, self sufficient, loud, bossy, domineering, arrogant, aggressive, annoying and probably some stronger words could be added. Sometimes it sadness me that they fail to see that sometimes I hide behind these things because it's the only way I can cope with what life has thrown at me.


The past few years have been pretty ordinary. There are moments in life when I just want to sit in a dark room and not talk to anyone. My life is so hectic and chaotic that it's very hard to shut down my mind. As hard as I try, sometimes it's easier to let the blackness swallow me for a bit so I can stop and recover.


I don't want to complain, I have a wonderful life.  I have an amazing husband who loves me (although sometimes I wonder why), two amazing kids and a wonderful and diverse group of friends.


But even with the knowledge that I'm luckier than most, sometimes it's not enough to completely erase the feeling that one day someone's going to jump out and say "Ha ha.  Fooled you. This is NOT your life to live"


I've managed to avoid them so far. I plan to actually evict the negative forces from my life one day soon.  

Back from the beyond.

So I've been MIA for a few months.

I faced a number of hurdles that just seemed to keep on coming. Painful. Frequent. Unrelenting.

Thankfully, the panorama of my humble, suburban life has improved and I find myself in calmer waters.

I look back at the past four months and wonder how the fuck I managed to drag my sorry butt out of bed and do what needed to be done. Three words. I'm a mum.

There is no sweeter validation than having your kids tell you they love you, even after you've spent a good ten minutes raging at them for something trivial and inconsequential.

I had a few of these raging fury earlier this year. I committed the sin of punishing my babies because I was having major issues with someone I work with.

And then one morning I woke up and said 'No More!!!'

I cannot tell you how liberating it is to finally admit defeat, not only to those around you, but more importantly, to yourself.

So anyway. Long story short, I've had issues. I've stopped taking shit and have made people accountable.

And guess what??? No one cried/died/freaked out.

I'll be back with more soon!!

Succumbing to the darkness

For some time now, I have been waging a battle with dark forces. Not the star wars type forces. The far more powerful ones that can bring you to your knees and make you question your sanity.

Depression.

I have run from this monster for more years than I care to remember. For as long as I can recall my primary role in life has been the strong one, the glue that keeps the family united, the problem solver, the go to person, the fixer. I have both loved and hated the roles with equal passion.

Doing good, making a difference, helping people gives me such a buzz. On the flip side, I've learnt the hard way that you can't make everyone happy and that sometimes people have short or selective memory.

I've been very honest (I hope) about the things going on in the fringes of my life. I'm still dealing with the fallout of a trial I endured relating to sex abuse I suffered as a child. It's an awkward topic I know... No one wants to discuss it. I get it. But I need to talk about it. I'm compelled to talk about the betrayal, the pain, the damage to my psyche and esteem as a result of one perverts needs. But I say nothing lest I put someone in an embarrassing position.

Then there were the work dramas, the ones that seemed to take on a life of it's own and that to this day are causing me considerable angst and distress.

Unfortunately, for me, it has meant that I've been a woeful person to be around on the home front and I fear that my children are becoming terrified of me.

The constant anger, the yelling, the brain snaps... That's what kills me the most. They are the innocent victims of it all.

Thankfully I have a very savvy doctor, who yesterday finally called me on my own bullshitting. After seeing me countless times for migraines, blood pressure issues and dizzy spells, he finally made me see sense.

I can no longer go on pretending I don't need help, that I can cope alone, that somehow it will be alright. It won't. I won't. Unless I finally say ok. Stop. Enough is enough.

That day is now. I'm not coping. I don't have all of the answers. I need help. And that's ok.

The signs have been present for some time now, I can clearly see them. it was just easier to ignore the obvious and pretend everything was ok. Blissful ignorance. Not just for me. For everyone.

I have high hopes that the road to recovery won't be a long and drawn out process. I'm a fairly positive person, despite the depression and anxiety that gnaws at me. I have hope that I can turn the corner, but I need to make me a priority and there lies my biggest challenge.

I have made it my life's mission to always always put everyone else before me. Family, friends, work. How do you change a belief system so ingrained that the conception of me first is so alien it terrifies me??

Apparently it can be done. I'm not sure how but I guess time will tell. The thing is, motherhood marches on and I somehow have to rebuild my concept of me as a good mother so I can in fact be a good mother.

I don't believe there is such a thing as a perfect mother, super mum or anything pertaining to being better than anyone else. Anyone who fancies themselves in this league is in denial and a tad deluded, no matter what their Facebook status may claim.

I just want my kids to not recoil from my touch. I want them to believe they will find sanctuary in my arms. I want to help them learn about the world and always know that I'll have their back, no matter what.

Most of all... I want to remember what it feel like to laugh until I pee my pants. I want to feel the adrenalin of spontaneity and of just having fun. For the life of me I cannot remember the last time I wasn't stressing out about something or worried about doing something for someone.

If my experience can help even one of you dear friends realise you don't need to suffer in silence, that you are not the only one, that is ok to feel like shit and hate the world, that there is hope, then I will sleep happier tonight.

Sometimes the smartest thing is to walk away

Have you ever fought for something you knew in your heart was right and found yourself battling insurmountable obstacles?

I have, for a year now, been banging my head against a brick wall to effect positive change. I have talked and talked and talked, all for nought. And I have not fought for change alone.

I have been fortunate enough to work with and along side of an inspirational woman who taught me the meaning of real leadership. The meaning of real support in the face of glaring stupidity. The meaning of friendship, in a situation so toxic it would fell lesser people.

As I prepare to walk away from the fight, I wonder what the next 6 months will bring?

I'm going to miss to miss the closeness we shared as we compared war wounds and horror stories. I'm going to miss doing what I Iove to do... Helping people and making a real difference.

I won't miss the crazies. The venom. The aggro. The stalkers.

It will be interesting watching the walls come tumbling down. The weird thing is, I feel sorry for the new incumbent who has no idea what's ahead as they take on what is left behind. How do you prepare someone for war?? Dramatic statement I know. But if I look back over the past year, I feel battle weary.

Somewhere out there, a young person blames me for their problems in life. I have become the focus of all of their anger, disappointment, vitriol and hatred. What did I do? I sent them a pro forma letter.

Anyway, that saga has not yet been resolved and continues to rage around me and I really couldn't care less.

And that's the thing that really makes me sad. The not caring part. Because I prefer to be engaged in what's going on and not just a spectator.

Never mind. New adventures await. More controversy, new battles.

At least I get to keep my friend. Coffee is going to be fun from now on!

Taking a stand for what's right

You know...  I never saw myself as an advocate.  I am loud and I am prone to voicing my opinions however taking a stand for the greater good was never on my agenda. Unfortunately, life has a way of presenting you with opportunities to right some wrongs, not only for yourself, but for people who don't know or will never know your name.

I find myself in such a situation.

I am employed in a very large institution which proudly displays a multitude of awards, particularly in the area of providing a family friendly working environment for women.  In fact, last week the head of the organisation sent around an self congratulatory email about what a wonderful place we work in and aren't we lucky? 

Ummm  well no.  

I have, for a year now, been having an ongoing battle with management about providing working mothers with flexibility around work/life balance.  I know for a fact that I am not the only working parent in my organisation facing the complex juggling act of work, kids, being an effective team member and being an effective parent.

I was told in what I know term 'Round One', that is was my choice to work and therefore I would need to make sacrifices.

Now.  I cannot stress enough how discriminatory that statement is and how incensed I was to have another woman say that to me.  I think I shook with rage for a couple of days before I could bring myself to address the matter in writing to avoid losing the plot and crying in rage.

Needless to say, things have gone steadily downhill from that point on.  I have had it pointed out to me a number of times that it's not fair for the other members of my team who don't have parental responsibilities that I be allowed to access provisions in place for parents and carers.  Really?  So in actual fact I am the one who's doing the discriminating?  I think not.

Last week, my cup runneth over.  I am no longer prepared to suffer discrimination in silence. I refuse to subject myself to subliminal intimidation for trying to access my legal entitlements in order to perform my duties as primary caregiver to my children.

Thankfully, in amongst all of the shit I've faced over the course of the past year, I've realised that I have some true friends and allies, borne of shared anger and indignation at the short sightedness of those chosen to lead.

Things are going to get very interesting in the next few months.  I'm not prepared to sit in silence any longer and have decided to take the road less travelled and stir the pot.  Formally.

My only hope is that, in the aftermath of what's to come, people will get real about the predicament faced by working parents and actually start living up to the long winded philosophies they extol on their official website and the statements they make in their applications for awards targeted at environments receptive of the term 'flexibilty'.

Yours in solidarity,

Mrs Nobody

The world as we know it

Is anyone else a little freaked out by all the natural disasters that seem to be plaguing us lately? I'm only to happy to put my hand up and admit that I've spent a number of sleepless nights quietly stressing out.

Many years ago, as a young girl, I remember watching some show about the prophecies of Nostradamus.  I remember trembling in fear as doom and the ultimate demise of the human race was depicted in the tacky way only really bad (and by bad I mean great) 70's shows could do.

In the space of one year, we've borne witness to a number of massive earthquakes, floods and cyclones.  It appears that Mother Nature is in a vengeful kind of mood and has wreaked havoc and cause more destruction in one day than any great war lord could dream of in a lifetime.

That got me thinking.  For all the power that man can create and wield (nuclear weaponry, hostile take overs, the genocide of an entire race) nothing comes close the destruction that Mother nature can create in one afternoon if the mood strikes her.

Now I'm not a scientist.  I'm not even a very clever person if truth be told. But if there's one thing that is clear after watching the horror unfold in real time in Japan last Friday, there are very few man made things what will withstand the fury of an earthquake followed by a tsunami. 

What was riveting was to witness a slow trickle of water grow into this massive crescendo of   annihilation as the water claimed almost everything in it's path.  Very few buildings were spared. Tragically, the death toll will be beyond comprehension.

It's devastating to watch peoples lives change in the blink of an eye.  We've become such real time junkies that I'd hazard a guess that very few of us watched in fascinated horror and actually acknowledged that apart from witnessing natures destructive power, we were also witnessing the death of someone.  A stranger to us, but the entire reason for living to someone else.

I find it really hard to get my head around the fact that potentially  5000+ people may have woken up on Friday morning, never realising that this was it; their last day on earth.

What has happened to us as a race?  I don't mean as Australians, Japanese, Americans etc.

I mean as humans.  At what point did we lose the way and decide that killing anyone who didn't share our core values and beliefs was wrong and needed to conform? Who decided that the only way to solve problems was to fight?  When has violence and war ever solved anything? When did money, power and greed replace decency, equality and justice?

Some time ago, a video was doing the rounds, showing returning soldiers greeting their families back home.  It's very heartwarming and moving.  But it only told one side of the story.

Every warring party will believe they are in the right. Regardless of the reasons they go to war, soldiers swear allegiance to whatever flag they fight for. They leave behind their families, not really knowing if they will ever see them again.  The risks faced by both sides is the same.  Some make it back, others do not.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that the teary reunions depicted in that video has been played out in every home in ever corner of the world since time began...  regardless of what side the soldiers were on.

I guess the point I'm trying to make, and I fear I'm making it badly, is that at the end of the day we are all the same. We are made different by geography and the places we are born.  We are made different by our faith and the languages that we speak.  But fundamentally we are all still the same.  Cut us and we bleed.  Hurt us and we feel pain.  We all love.  We all have the capacity to hate. We all think we are right and everyone else is wrong.

But none of us will ever best Mother Nature.  No matter how hard we try. That was made very clear last week. She can give life and also take it away.

Something to think about.

The view from the other side

As you may be aware, my eldest child started school recently.  That has meant a new routine, fresh fears, issues not before encountered and that's just for me.  


I am a full time working mother.  Which is hard.  Really really hard.  There are only so many hours in the day and too many things on the To Do list.  But I try to get through the most important of them all every day.  I fail miserably, but at least I try.


So in amongst all of stuff I have to do, I managed to negotiate finishing early one day a week so I can pick up my child from school.  Exciting!!!


The school drop-off and pick-up is fraught with subtext and a sort of hierarchy that exists with the parents of my particular school community.  I'm not saying it's a bad thing.  But as an outsider looking it, I find it completely fascinating.


I realised last week on my one pick-up day, how on the fringes I really am.  I'm fortunate enough to have a number of my mothers group mums at the same school.  While we all catch up at kids birthdays and one mum in particular is an angel and helps me out by picking up my child once a week, it's clear I'm no longer in the 'gang' as such.  I'm like the crazy second cousin once removed who pops over to a family BBQ once in a blue moon.


They ask me how work is and then resume their discussions about taking the kids swimming, dancing, gymnastics, going for coffee, going for lunch and other things that they do while I'm at work. New mums have been inducted into the group and their presence is much more important and fixed than mine will ever be. The organism known as 'Mum's Group' has evolved and grown without me.


It makes me sad, jealous and a little bit angry.  Sad that I'm out of the loop.  Jealous because I wish I could be more hands on as a mum.  Angry because sometimes life isn't fair and things don't happen the way you had hoped and imagined.


It's not a very nice place to be sometimes.  On the fringes.  I think it's human nature to want to fit in, to be one of the gang and not some random person hovering on the perimeter and never getting a look in.  It makes you feel like a teenager again, wanting to be one of the cool girls, the ones that everyone wants to be.


Life on the fringes can be a little isolating and cold.  There is no basking in the glow of shared stories, history or excitement at future plans.  It only reinforces that feeling that not only is your child missing out, but that I'm also missing out.


Still, I get to do one pick up a week.  It makes my child happy.  It makes me happy and it means a lot.  I live in hope that one day I'll be able to do more than one pick up.  And maybe do a lunch or coffee as well.


In the meantime, I remain, as ever...  Mrs Nobody.

Men behaving badly.

Is it me or is there a large amount of footage on men acting like complete idiots in the media lately?  I mean really.  Charlie Sheen, Ricky Nixon, Brendan Fevola to name a few.


Apart from Fevola, the other two are older and supposedly wiser (although these days, with Peter Pan complexes at an all time high, who the hell knows?) and should know better. But do they?  Do men ever grow up really?


Let's examine the evidence shall we?


Exhibit One;

The Warlock

Charlie Sheen.  Now there's a train wreck that's hard to miss.  Is anyone else concerned that the bowling shirts, shorts and socks with loafers he seems to favour are messing with his head?  I mean come on.  The rants are just priceless.  You can't get through the day without hearing some insane tirade spewing from his mouth.  Team that with the craziness that is radiating from those eyes and you've got dinner and a show right there.  Below are a few of my personal favorites:


1. 'I am on a drug, it's called 'Charlie Sheen!' - when asked if he was on drugs by ABC News' Andrea Canning during an interview on March 1, 2011. 

• now kiddies, trust Mrs Nobody, you don't, under any circumstances, want to try this drug.  I mean like ever.  Never ever.  The results could be disastrous. Take a look at that picture.  Sexy?  I think not.

2. 'I'm so tired of pretending like my life isn't perfect and bitchin' and just winning every second and I'm not perfect and bitchin' and just deliverying the goods at every frickin' turn, because, look what I'm dealing with' man. I'm dealing with fools and trolls, dealing with soft targets and it's just, you know it's just strafing runs in my underwear before my first cup of coffee because I don't have time for these clowns.' - Charlie Sheen's first on-air rant.

• bitchin'?  What, is it the 90's again?  Has he stepped through the space time continuum?

3. 'They'll wake up one day and realize how cool dad is. And, you know, signs all the checks on the front, not the back. And you know, we need him and we need his wisdom and his bitchin'-ness.' - Charlie Sheen about his twin sons Bob and Max.

• Oh really?  Did you ever thing that's prefer a great, sober and alive father instead of a bitchen' duuuude? I'm guessing that they will raise you, hopefully, maybe.  I wonder what your two young and one adult daughters have to say about bitchin' Daddy?

4. I'm different. I have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart. I got tiger blood, man. Dying's for fools, dying's for amateurs. - Charlie Sheen

• News flash.  You're not different.  You're just like the rest of us.  Human, fragile and eventually, you will die.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this little boy has never grown up.  He has fathered five children, married three women, shot a former fiancee and is currently ensconced with two goddesses. What a catch!  Now I'm old enough to realise he may be suffering from delusion issues and the word grandeur springs to mind.  But clearly someone out there who's supposed to be looking after his best interests (mainly because he's paying them too) isn't doing a stellar job of it all.  SHUT HIM UP already.


The sad thing is, the media is keeping him right up there, turning him into a legend and proving yet again, that they have no morals or concerns about one very sick individual.


For those of you who want to see some more insanity, check out this youtube vid.

Exhibit Two;


Ricky Nixon.  What can we say about a 47 year old man who engages in an inappropriate dalliance with a minor.  Apparently people have an issue with the fact that the girl in question is 17, which apparently makes her 'old enough' to know better.  


Firstly, let me say this.  Out of the two of them, and let me make this clear; they were both at fault and both equally stupid, he was the adult.  No matter how you want to look at it, in the eyes of the law, she's still a child while Ricky on the other hand, left the teen years behind him some 30 years ago and has a crap load of life experience that should have told him NO.


It's very interesting to see people's reactions to this situation.  The level of vitriol that has been put out towards the girl in question is nothing short of amazing. But when you examine the facts and find out about her background, it all points to a very troubled child (and FYI the law says she's the child in this scenario, not him) who has some serious self esteem issues and is in desperate need for attention.  In a sports mad city, where else but the AFL would she go?


Ricky on the other hand, is a father, has a very senior position within the AFL realm and FYI is FORTY SEVEN YEARS OLD! Common decency and common sense should have sent him a clear message that this little adventure was wrong and dangerous.


I find it rather opportunistic that he flees the country in the hopes that it will all die down and he can come back and resume his life as per usual.  In the interim, the silly girl goes on another rant courtesy of 60 Minutes (again, well done media outlets for keeping prime news in the headlines... not) and he comes out and tells the world he has substance abuse problems and checks into rehab.


Rehab is the get out of jail card these days.  It seems everyone who's anyone wants to do a stint in rehab because apparently it adds street cred to your reputation.


The saddest thing of all is that people these days are impressed by idiots behaving badly.  By virtue of being a selfish, stupid, immoral and completely fucked up twit, your popularity soars and people think you effing ROCK duuude.


So to answer my initial question.  In both of these cases, the answer is no.  These boys have never grown up.


Is it any wonder Mother Nature is venting her fury at the stupidity of the human race? I think we've all lost out way a wee little bit.  We've scarificed the essence of real heroes who are selfless in their quests for idiots who's primary concern is themselves; their needs, their desires, their wants.


Kinda scary isn't it?

I don't want to do this anymore.

God help me, it's only Monday morning and I'm already having a shitty week.


I can't put my finger on exactly what's bothering me but there are a number of contributing factors.


Last week I interviewed for a new position. Same employer, different area. At the time I thought the interview went well. In hindsight I now feel like a complete tool. Suffice to say, I don't think I'll be offered the role which means I'll have to continue to work for a cyborg devoid of any human emotion or empathy.


Furthermore, my eldest child is still doing the clingy, teary 'Stay with me Mummy' routine which fuels my guilt.


To add further insult to injury, I'm back on the shakes which means my bowels will be screaming in protest because of the sorbitol.


And then there's the earthquake in NZ. The devastation. The death toll. The suffering.


I think I need to go back to bed, pull the doona over my head and wake up next week.  Or get myself a very large gin and tonic...  hold the tonic.






- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Between a rock and a hard place

Sometimes in life, there’s no keeping anyone happy. No matter how hard you try to ensure that all the different areas of your life are flowing smoothly, chances are they just aren’t.

As you know, my eldest child started school this year.  I was convinced that the transition was going to be easy.  Alas, I was wrong.  The drama that unfolded was nothing short of spectacular.  Tears, anxiety induced vomiting, issues with drop of arrangements; it just went on and on with no end in sight.

Most mothers will agree, the emotional well being of our children is paramount and woe betide anyone that adds to the stress and angst.  You will become number one on my hit list and I will pursue you to the depths of hell to extract retribution if need be.

Thankfully, a few phone calls and some new arrangements later, we seem to be on an even footing now and the tears have subsided.  My child is happier, we are making inroads with being comfortable and it’s all good.

Or is it?

To be perfectly honest with you, I think the one that suffered the most during the past three traumatic weeks is Mummy.

As a woman, I find myself placed in a very shitty position.  This is what I call being trapped between a rock and a hard place.  And let me tell you, it fucking sucks being here.  Allow me to explain.

I have no choice but to work full time.  Mr Nobody and I discussed our lives way back when, before children were a factor to contend with.  I’m not ashamed to say I like to live a nice life.  And by nice, I mean I want to be able to take a holiday with my kids to exotic destinations (?) like the Gold Coast or maybe Rye.  I want to be able to give my kids a few luxuries in life.  Hell I want to be able to give myself and Mr Nobody a few luxuries in life! I want to have take away sometimes, because seriously, the thought of arriving at home after 6pm on a weeknight, having to unpack lunchboxes, wash up, repack lunches, get clothes ready for the following day, cook some dinner, clean up the mess from dinner, get the kids into bed, feed the dog and perhaps sexually gratify Mr Nobody makes me want to weep in frustration. 

So I miss out on the school drop offs, the school picks ups, reading with the children, taking them to extra-curricular activities after school.  That also fucking sucks.  More than that, it hurts to know that there’s a part of my children’s lives I’ll have to experience second hand. 

The thing is... people judge.  A former friend once told me to get my priorities right.  Oh really?  Right according to who?

And then there’s the whole juggling work responsibilities to contend with. My manager couldn’t give a toss what my parental responsibilities are.  All I know is, it displeases her when my parental responsibilities clash with peak periods at work.  Case in point, I requested time off to aide my child with the transition, because a part of me knew it wasn’t going to be easy. This was denied.  And I gave them a year’s notice.  Which only served to fuel my fury when I learned that said manager had taken time off to fly to an exotic location (NOT the Gold Coast or Rye) while I had to run around like an insane (an incredibly sweaty) woman trying to keep things under control.

Mrs Nobody was NOT a happy camper and would have, in all likelihood, said a few things I would later regret had she been here in person last week. All I know is I spent a lot of time crying in the car, dashing like a mad woman to work, only to have to turn around again a few hours later and make the dash back to the school to pick up my unhappy baby.

So; judged by work and judged by some women who have made the decision to stay home with their children. Both parties are ruthless in their assessment of my failings and my inability to get either aspect of my life right.

But the biggest critique comes from a closer enemy. It comes from that voice in my head, the one that never shuts up. The one that never lets anything go. The one that, late at night, when my house is finally in blessed silence, begins a crescendo of accusations that won’t go away:  Bad mother, bad wife, bad employee, BAD PERSON.

She’s the one I hate the most. Because no matter what I do, how hard I try, how many tears I shed, nothing is ever going to make her happy.  Nothing will ever be good enough. No accomplishments will be great enough, no sacrifice big enough.

I hope I’m not the only one beating myself up like this.  I can’t be.  I know a lot of wonderful mothers who just don’t think they are doing a good job.  I take comfort in knowing that, although unspoken, there are others having the same conversations with themselves every night.

Rest assured you are doing the best job possible.  But don't worry, I don't believe it either.  Even if I know it's true.

Sex and the city... with Friends.

I am, apparently, too poor to get Foxtel and all the glorious shows that come with that luxury.  Thus I am forced to watch free to air and quite frankly:  there is too much crime and murder on tv these days and I'm a little bit over it.  Why aren't there more cooking shows??  And I don't mean My Kitchen Rules type show where it's a bitch-fest.  I mean more cooking, less backstabbing.  God I miss the food channel.  But I digress.


Sunday afternoons is my folding laundry day, and with two active children and a fastidious husband, let me tell you, there is always plenty of laundry to sort. Over Christmas, I made the monumental mistake of bestowing my man a playstation 3 from 'Santa'.  Since Christmas day, I have been a widow of sorts as he continues his love affair with some post apocalyptic world in which he is searching for his long lost father and the truth.  Remember people, the truth will set you free.


So what to do?  While the husband hogs the 55" plasma because god forbid he fight cockroach mutants and robots on an 80cm old school LG, I am banished to the master bedroom to watch anything I please on said old school LG, where everyone looks like they've holidayed on Mars because the colours are too red.


In the past few weeks I've been taking a trip down memory lane watching old Friends episodes.  *sighs*  Love this show.  Just watching it made me relive old memories, it evoked feelings I had long forgotten and I laughed like I was watching it for the first time.


Ditto Sex and The City.  The fashions, the heartache, Samantha.  All reasons to tune in again and again.


The thing is, while I loved these shows and love them still, as an older person who's life has shifted to a new beat, I found myself watching two characters in growing anger.


Rachel from Friends and Carrie from Sex and the City.


Now, I am not trying to start world war 3 with anyone, but seriously, could there be any more self obsessed, narcissistic and selfish characters than these two?  I mean really.


The premise for the movie Sex and the City 2 was kinda sad and pathetic.  Carrie bitching to her husband about buying a tv?  Carrie being a complete and utter mole because Big wants to stay home of a weeknight and she doesn't want to become domesticated?  Carrie trying to cling to her youth by wearing ridiculously outlandish outfits yet giving Samantha shit over an opening night frock? Married Carrie pashing her married ex boyfriend because apparently the universe was giving her a sign?  Grow the fuck up you selfish little twat.


Rachel on the other hand, while not as self obsessed as Carrie, still only ever considers her own needs and feelings.


This kind of portrayal of a supposedly strong and incredible woman does us no favours.  I'm under no illusions that in life, there are plenty of women like our Carrie and Rachel.  I know because I used to be friends with one.  I used to want to be like her, many years ago.  Now I just pity her because while I'm bogged down in domesticity, all she has to keep her warm at night is her over processed hair, designer clothes and the sinking feeling that we're both on the wrong side of 40.


Every time we talk (which is infrequent at best) she cuts me off and it's all about her.  Her problems, her heart break, her issues, her adventures.  She never asks me about my kids, scoffs at me when I tell her I'm tired, tells me to suck it up.  Of course.


The great thing about getting older (yes, trust me, it has its benefits) is that you let go of a lot of baggage that you carry around in your younger days.  You learn the art of selflessness and of putting the needs of others before your own.  Most of us will never have Carrie's fashion sense or incredibly rich husband, but I dare say we all possess something more invaluable.  Consideration of other.


As for Rachel and her yoga honed body.  Now I'd kill to have those pins!  Won't ever happen. But a girl can dream.  Even a nobody like me.

Unlikely life lessons.

Sometimes, sage advice on the more important things in life can come from the most unlikely of sources.


I think I've been very honest about my abilities to function as wonderful mother (not good) and my complete inability to keep my mouth shut (even worse) at the best of times. But as I travel through life, falling from one debacle into another, every now and then I hear or see something that makes me feel like I'm doing an reasonable job.


I am now, and forever will be, a woman driven by emotion.  It's something I wish I could change. Alas, at the age I am now at, I suspect I will never master the art of cool, calm composure.  I explode very quickly, with happiness, anger or disappointment.  Usually I end up thinking "Damn.  Maybe I should have counted to 100 before speaking".


This past week, or rather, the past month, has been rather eventful.  Things happen in life that shake you to your core and make you re-evaluate everything you once held dear.  I'm starting to realise that as much as we like to tell ourselves that things will get better and that one day life will be easy, it usually never ever is smooth sailing.  Life is just...  well random.


Some weeks ago I watched a movie.  A very silly, simple movie.  The kind that starts with a situation that unites old friends who have gone in different directions.  You know the kind. There's like a million of them all with the same plot line, the same cheesy lines and the same happy ending.  The thing about movies is, you never ever get to see what happens when this group of people return their normal lives.


But one scene really captured my attention.  This piece of advice is delivered by one of the older characters, Gloria, someone with a whole lot of life experience who can elucidate life's journey to the rest of the gang.


She says;


I see a lot of love here, and with love comes hostility...


Life can be difficult some times.  It gets bumpy, what with family and kids and things not going exactly like you planned. But that's what makes it interesting.


In life, the first act; always exciting. The second act; that's where the depth comes in.


For some strange reason, this dialogue really made an impact.  It's like, finally, something that actually makes sense.


Because sometimes, even love can be hard and a right royal pain in the arse.  It never ceases to amaze me that while you can love someone so totally and completely, there are times when you want to slap the shit out of them or just give them a swift kick to the shins because they piss you off so much.  I guess even love has it's darker side.


And the first act analogy.  Fucking brilliant!  Because I mean really.  Isn't that exactly how love evolves? The passion, the intensity, the burning desire... I mean wow.  It's just the most incredible feeling.  Unfortunately it's unsustainable.  Eventually, the flame dies but the embers remain.  And as any good bushman knows, it's the burning embers that sustain the heat, that last the longest and that can help reignite a fire if need be.


I know very well the bumps that can throw you off course.  Kids, family... they have a way of creating chaos like nothing else in the world can.  But life is never boring. Same with micor managing your life with too many plans.  Most times, they never work out quite how you planned.  


I think its fair to say that most of us aren't living the lives that we once dreamed about.  But I personally, wouldn't have it any other way.


Much love to you all.

Unchartered territories.

I have entered a new phase in my life.


My eldest child started school this year, and with this monumental step comes a new world which I'm not afraid to say I fear and face with a great deal of trepidation. Do you know what I mean?


For the past 20 plus years, I've driven past school car parks and seen the lines of cars (or high end 4 wheel drives) and thought to myself "Thank god I don't have to deal with that". Well karma can be quite a bitch, because I now find myself in that very boat.


It's a completely new mind set.  Labelling everything your child possesses, preparing lunch boxes (healthy of course), working bees, parent teacher meetings, yummy mummies and wanting your child to fit in and not be considered different.


Quite frankly I think I'm going to need a week off to recover from the build up. It's been a very long time since I was in primary school and let me tell you, things have changed.  Like a lot.


I was required to purchase and provide to the school an entire years worth of stationery, tissues, sunblock and assorted items a five year old child may need in their quest for knowledge.  Simple right?  Nay friends.  Not for Mrs Nobody.


The dramas of December saw me losing the all important book list.  By the time I realised there were three days left till Christmas, the school had closed.  So I activated the phone tree and rang every mother in my mother's group.  Of course they had all submitted their forms in a timely manner, unlike me.  


So I rang the supplier direct and was advised that my only option was to put in an internet order and pay the obscene delivery fee to get my books.  So I sucked it up like an mother would and I did as I was told.


Fast forward the end of January and I had sort of forgotten that I needed the books.  Ok, yes. My bad.  But my focus had been shifted to school shoes, hemming uniforms (thanks Mum!) and trying to find the bloody labels I had ordered in November, which I had managed to put away so well that I had forgotten where I had put them.


I learned that my order had been delivered to an unsuspecting lady in a suburb about 30 kilometers away from where I live.  The manager of the supply company rang and was so apologetic about it all, but truth be told, I had no fucking idea what he was babbling about when he called.  So I did what any sane person would so.  I went with the flow and ended up getting my books couriered to my place at 7pm on a Friday night.  Now that's service for you, right there.


Unfortunately, being a really bad mother, I under-ordered the pencils, crayons, textas because I thought at the time "Why on earth do I need to buy 4 packets of textas?".  Thankfully, my stupidity was aided by one of my friends who informed me that the school requires that all the stationery be supplied prior to commencement.


Oh.


So after a hysterical and call to the same supplier, I put the balance of the stationery order on hold and enlisted the services of my mother to pick them up.  And that's when it all went wrong.  Mum turned up to get the damn textas and crayons only to be told that no one knew what the hell she was talking about.


So she rings me and I ring the supplier.  What the hell people??  Mummy needs the textas NOW!!!


The twelve year old sales assistant (ok, maybe she wasn't twelve but she sounded very very young and with not much life experience) says to me "Oh yeah, they are under the front counter".  Oh really?  Ya don't say??????


By this stage, my voice has gone super sonic and I demand to speak to the manager. After a very quick and incomprehensive rant, the manager kindly tells me he will wait for me to drive one hour from my place of work to get the supplies I need. My mother kindly decided to go back to get the stuff for me.


Seriously.  I almost lost the plot over some Faber Castell and some 2HB grey leads.  


This is what happens people, when your fledglings go out into the big bad world.  As a parent, you want everything to be perfect, in a world that unfortunately never is perfect, never will be perfect.


I don't know why we do this to ourselves.  Or to our kids for that matter.  But no matter how bad life is, it natural urge for any parent is to shield our babies from the life that is to come, from the disappointments and heartache that growing up will undoubtedly bring.


So every night we pack the lunchbox and we talk about this exciting new adventure.  I pray that my baby will grow and flourish with each passing day and that any pain and heartache will be days, weeks, months and years away.  I know it's not going to happen as I want it to.  Life never does go quite according to plan.


In the meantime, I encourage my child to show empathy, compassion, love to everyone that crosses their path.  I can only hope the other children will do the same.


Oh, by the way, I ended up getting the extra crayons, textas and 2HB child grip pencils for free.  Now that's customer service right there.

Skeletons in the closet. Session 1.

Have you ever had a window in time when everything was just....  right?  Not in the having it all, having a million dollars or being drop dead gorgeous type of right.  More like the planets had aligned and found myself among kindred spirits and we were all looking for the same thing.  Fun.


I do.  It's that time in your life when you have absolutely no responsibilities to anyone but yourself and nothing is stupid enough or crazy enough to do.  With that freedom of responsibility comes the ability to throw caution to the wind and just be an absolute idiot and do whatever the hell you want.


For me, this period of my life took place at the turn of the century.  It was the year 2000, we had just gotten over the millennium bug hysteria, the good ole Y2K.  I was working at a stationery company.  It was at this job that I met some of my closest and strongest friends.  I may not see them all the time anymore, but I always carry a bit of them with me.


I spent the next two years at this job doing the following; laughing till I peed, prank calling customers, complaining about our boss, going out for drinks after work. It was awesome.


But really, the best times I had was getting high with my best gay friend in the world.  He'd come over to my place after dinner and we'd just chill out and watch Funniest Home Videos and laugh our heads off at nothing in particular.


The one incident that lingers in my mind is the Maccas drive thru drive by.


Imagine this if you will.  After a particularly grueling week at work, I retired to my house alone and errr..  lit up.  Now kiddies, this is BAD BAD BAD. You should NEVER do this...  without me being around to ummm  supervise.


So there I was, totally relaxed and chilled and getting ready to fall asleep in front of a movie. And my phone ring.  It's my sister.  Did I forget that I had my nephew or niece's (can't remember which) reconciliation tonight?  Er, yes.  But no! Of course not.  I was getting ready.


After launching myself into a very cold shower I got ready to go to, using a liberal amount of eye drops.  And there began my nightmare.


I arrived at the local catholic church and thankfully, as it was an evening ceremony, the lights were dimmed. I was certain I looked fine and not at all twitchy an slightly paranoid.  Because I arrived late I sat a row behind my parents and sister.  I don't know.  I get the impression that no one really twigged that I was a wee bit out of sorts. 


So there I was, sitting in the house of God, completely freaking out.  On the altar, on his crucifix, Jesus was judging me.  I'm not sure if it was the silence, the dimmed lights, the young children, as yet untarnished by life, going in one by one to confess the most minor of digressions but I began to completely freak out.


By this stage, the munchies had well and truly set in.  Between the paranoia and the desperation for a caramel sundae, I was a blubbering mess.  It felt like hours although it could only have been a matter of thirty minutes, so I feigned a migraine and hightailed it out of the church and away from the unimpressed glare of God's son Jesus.


In the car, I tried to collect my thoughts and somehow, I found myself at the drive through of McDonalds.  I can't recall what I ordered, but there were fries, a burger of some sort, I know there was a sundae and quite possibly an apple pie or two.  


I paid for my food, then left. As in sans food. As in drove straight past the window where a young lass was waiting with a fake smile and my order.  It wasn't till I was close to home that I found my hand searching for some fries  and coming back wanting.  Where were they?


DAMN IT!!  In my hurry to get home and enjoy my munchies, I'd paid, but never claimed my goodies.  Oh the shame.


To this day, i wonder what the staff on drive thru thought that night.  Had they realised that I was high as a kite? Did they witness this type of madness on a weekly basis?  I comfort myself by telling myself the staff had no idea I was not of sound mind.  Sometimes I believe myself.  Sometimes I don't.


Hopefully one day, when I'm sitting a nursing home somewhere, drinking my liquified lunch, I may have some flashbacks about being frowned at by JC. I may have lingering memories of living a wild and crazy life, if only for a very small period in time. And I may just remember that for a little while, I lived my life like there was no tomorrow.


Yes, I was stupid.  Yes I broke the law.  But at least I did it in style.


But seriously kiddies.  Don't do drugs.  

Excuses, excuses, excuses.

It's becoming increasingly evident that these days most people refuse to accept responsibility for their actions, if said actions are considered bad form.


I, for one, am kinda over this sort of nonsense. I've experienced the worst of human kind this week and let me tell you...  Be under no illusions that your bad behaviour does not affect people.  It does. In a very big and significant way.


Adultery.  A crime punishable by death...  Of a family. Of trust. Of respect. Of dreams.


I wonder sometimes what goes through people's minds as they take the road to adultery.  How do they reconcile to themselves the gravity of the lies that are to begin? Does reason die in the face of lust fuelled endorphins coursing through your veins? Is the ability to remember right from wrong shattered by carnal urges, in the same way you are shattering the lives of your husband/wife, children, parents, in-laws, friends?


I'm sorry but to engage in an affair, at any given point in time, while you are in a committed relationship is WRONG. BAD.  TERRIBLE. Basically a BIG FAT NO.  And there are NEVER any excuses.  No matter what you want to believe.  There just isn't.  Not now.  Not ever.


Now, I'm worldly enough to realise (and by worldly I mean old) that in this day and age, there are very few things left in life that don't have an expiration date.  Love, unfortunately, is one of those things. But again; there's a right and wrong way to deal with things.  


Why don't we talk to each other anymore?  What happened to good ole fashioned communication?  Try it people.  You may be pleasantly surprised.


The excuses for being a selfish cunt are so pathetic.  I mean really. 

• "I have needs, they weren't being met"- Well boo fucking hoo.  Did you ever once stop to consider the feelings and needs of your partner? Here's a thought...  Where you meeting their needs?  I'm guessing not, since it would appear that life is all about you.
• "I got married/involved/tied down too young" - Unless you're married/involved/tied down with an 80 year old, I'm going to go out on a limb and hazard a guess that your partner was also married/involved/tied down too young also.  And your point is?
• "There are issues from my childhood that make it hard for me" - So what?  Issues. We all have them.  Some worse that others, but issues non the less.  DEAL WITH THEM.  Stop blaming everyone for what happened in the past.  Seek help.  Confide in your partner and heal yourself.  If you can legally drink, drive, vote and pay taxes then you need to assume responsibility for your life and take whatever measures you need to take to make sure you are a functioning member of society and more importantly, of your FAMILY.
• "I would have taken this to my grave" - What? Is that a good thing? Are we supposed to applaud you for continuing the lie for an entire lifetime? Most people who 'fess up under duress do so because someone is blackmailing you.  So seriously.  Keep this to yourself because no one will be impressed with your noble move to continue the lie. In fact, it's only going to make us want to give you a couple of more slaps and swift kick to the pelvic region.
• "I didn't sow my wild oats. I need to run free" - If your idea of being fricken awesome is to shag everything with a pulse, go for it.  I mean, if that's what it takes to make you feel good about yourself, then do it.  But again, right and wrong. Become your inner slut when you are no longer encumbered with a family.

As far as I'm concerned, there's never an excuse to cheat.  Affairs indicate a weak character, someone who has no self control or consideration for the needs of those they claim to love. 


Wrong.  No matter how you look at it.  It's wrong.  It's nasty. Don't do it.  Simple.