Happy birthday to meee!!!

That's right, today is my birthday. Another year has passed and I am one year closer to as my nephew calls it, being a skeleton in a box in the ground. Gotta love 4 year olds for telling it like it is. So apparently after midnight last night my odometer automatically clicked over to 28 years old. I don't feel 28, and according to everyone who asks me for ID before selling me cigarettes I don't look 28 either. I actually had one woman last week tell me that hopefully by the time I'm reaching 40 I might finally look like I'm in my 20's. I don't mind being told that I look young or being asked for ID because I know that the people are looking past my appearance and realise that I'm young at heart. They choose to ignore the wrinkles I have been growing since my 25th birthday and tell me in so many words that I act like a teenager. (I'm not lying about the wrinkles either, I found my very first wrinkle on my 25th birthday. How's that for your body telling you it hates you?)

They say that with age comes wisdom, but I'm still not entirely convinced of this because in all my years, the wisest thing I have been able to come up with is don't try to do a three point turn next to your house otherwise you'll end up driving through your lounge room window. You'll also probably end up with five stitches in your arm after you slice it open on the jagged glass hanging from your window frame. (True story.) But no one can deny they love the spoiling and attention that comes with a birthday. So far I have received 2 bunches of flowers, 2 boxes of chocolates and 2 cases of cupcakes to help celebrate my birthday. A lot of my Facebook friends have obeyed the instructions on their news feeds and popped over to my wall to wish me a happy birthday, and I have one very happy little girl who has spent most of her morning jacked up on sugar. I actually caught her stealing a Tim Tam from my coffee table while I was out of the room. By the time I came back it was almost all gone and there was little point in doing anything but cleaning up the mess she left behind.

So now there is nothing left for me to do but sit back and enjoy the rest of my day. And eat my weight in cupcakes. I should probably leave this post with something deeply reflective and moving to commemorate the occasion, but instead I'll tell a joke...

Q: How can you tell that you're getting old? 
A: You go to an antique auction and three people bid on you 


That's it, I'm outta here, try the chicken and don't forget to tip your waitress!

Dear diary...

So I've decided to make my Sunday post a catch up of everything that has been happening during the week. That way I can keep doing my normal rants during the week and still keep my lovely readers posted about my beautiful daughter on one day per week. Also hopefully if I leave a week between each of these posts it might be enough time to gather up enough interesting stories to fill an entire post.

As I write this my mum and my little sister are having a disagreement about her 21st birthday party next April, and Miss K is playing with a stuffed Pumba doll on our coffee table. So that's all that's happened today so far. We actually had a few sleepovers at the house this week, my niece and nephew came over for the night on Thursday night, as both of them have this nasty cold that Miss K and I got the other week, and our house is warmer than theirs during the night, so mum thought it would be a good idea for them to give their lungs a rest during one of the coldest night we've had in a long time. This was a lot of fun, and because they were staying in the lounge, which is where we watch telly, they didn't get to sleep until after 10:00. My other little sister (the one not turning 21 next year) stayed over on Friday night as it was raining too heavily for me to drive her home after tea so she got stranded here till yesterday afternoon. My little brother also came down from Melbourne last weekend, which was odd because he'd already been down a fortnight before, but we got to spend a day with him and his partner which was nice.

Miss K has been gorgeous as always, growing and developing every day. The biggest thing for her this week is that she finally understands putting things into boxes and I can finally get her to help me clean up her toys at the end of the day. She loses interest after a short while which is to be expected given she's still only one, but I make sure she gets lots of praise any time she puts things away and hopefully soon she can help keep this place clean. I mentioned earlier in the week that she was going for her 12 month immunisations, and like every time we go there we were warned to keep an eye out for any symptoms for a day or so, this time more than ever because this immunisation contained live cultures of something, but she has pushed through the yucky feelings admirably with only a few complaints about feeling miserable, and she is always good about taking her paracetamol. She talks all the time and is so full of fun and adventure, it is a delight to watch her as she goes about her day.

As for me, I went to my local TAFE on Friday hoping to finally get enrolled into my bookkeeping course only to discover the woman I needed to speak to WASN'T @#%$# THERE!!!! But the receptionist was kind enough to take my enrolment form anyway and assured me she would make sure I was called on Monday so I can finally get everything taken care of. I got the fright of my life while driving up the freeway that day however, it was raining pretty heavy and the roads were very wet and my bloody car hydroplaned. It gave both me and the little sister who was riding with me quite a scare and I drove with my hands tightly gripping the steering wheel the rest of the way. I also sat at 10km under the speed limit the entire way. I have also finished reading another book on my list to read before I die which now brings my total up to 15. I have started reading Jane Eyre and so far the mood of the book is pretty blue so I'm not sure how far I can get before it becomes too miserable and I have to give up.

Well I've officially wasted enough time on the computer for one morning, I need to go shopping and clean up my lounge room so I feel like I've done something productive today. Now you are all caught up on my life wonderful readers I hope you all have a good day and I'll be back with my normal rants next week.

Learning to love your body

Hello again wonderful readers, I hope this post finds you all well and warm. It is freezing cold here right now, and has been raining almost constantly for two days. I'm rugged up in my pyjama pants and a men's XL jumper as I type this as it's too cold to wear my normal blogging bikini. (I'll let you sit with that image for just a second)

The truth is I've worn a bikini once in my entire life, and even then I wore it under a t-shirt and a pair of shorts and I never let it see the light of day. I bought the bikini on a cruise ship (I can't remember why I needed a bathing suit, given that I should have packed beach suitable wear and that usually means togs), but only because none of the stores sold anything bigger than a two piece and I refuse to let that much skin show in public. This modesty was bought on more by the fact that I was a very curvy size 18 - 20 at the time than any sense of decency and I hated my body greatly at this time. I had actually gone on a diet in preparation for the cruise (my first and only attempt at dieting) which consisted of eating something like minestrone soup and very little else for several months. I lasted 3 days before the sugar withdrawals sent me crazy and my mum insisted I eat something else. I have battled for a long time with my body image, my first memories of hating my body being at about age 16. The funny thing is I look back at photos of myself at this time and there was nothing wrong with me. I was quite skinny and very pretty and could wear figure hugging clothes easily, but for some reason when I looked in the mirror all I could see was a fat person. I could kick myself knowing how much time I wasted wishing I was skinnier when the truth was I was healthy and perfectly fine exactly how I was. 

By the time I was 17 things had changed for me. I had stopped caring about myself since I thought I was so ugly so I put all kinds of nasty into my body. I used to drink 2 litres of coke a day and eat anything I felt like. I also did zero exercise and when I wasn't at school I was either sleeping or on the internet. And I felt huge. I probably wasn't more than a size 16 at the time but I might as well have been a size 22. I started wearing huge baggy clothing to hide my shape and hating myself even more. It went on and on like this for the next couple of years, I did the one minestrone diet which was a spectacular failure, but any other time I wanted to lose weight I'd walk to try and lose the flab. And it would work, until I got bored with walking or distracted by something else or winter came and then I'd stop. I joined gyms which was always a terrible waste of hundreds of dollars because I never had the motivation, and I hate exercising in public. I hated going clothes shopping because the dressing room mirrors were never gentle with my flaws and made my thighs look like chicken drumsticks. There was also the problem that I could never find any clothing in my size that I felt pretty in or that wasn't covered in huge floral prints. (Why do clothing designers think fat women want to look like walking flower beds?) I was miserable and felt powerless and hideous. None of my boyfriends could ever convince me that I was pretty or sexy or worthy of happiness, no matter how much they tried. 

I can look back at this part of my life and talk about it now as if it was such a long time ago, but I can't tell you exactly when I stopped hating my body. I think it was such a gradual thing I didn't even realise at the time what was happening. It probably started with accepting that this is the body I was given, and I really should be happy that I have a whole, fully functioning body that serves its purpose as it is meant to. Then I learned how to dress like I actually like myself and the confidence started coming back. Then I fell pregnant with Miss K and I couldn't hate the stretch marks or the lumps and bumps any more because they all served a greater purpose than all of my complaining combined. And after Miss K was born mum had her heart attack and a whole set of diet and lifestyle changes were brought on which helped us all gain healthier slightly smaller bodies. I think that really brought home the fact that I should be happy with what I have been given because there are so many more important things to think about than how I look in a bikini.

So I'm still not the perfect size, in fact I'm still classed as obese even though I don't feel it these days. But I'm truly happy with my body, as without it, I wouldn't have been able to have Miss K, and she is totally worth the stretch marks and bulgy tummy I carry around under my t-shirt these days.

No wonder I can't see

So I went to the optometrist yesterday for the first time in about 10 years. Given how much trouble I have seeing on a daily basis this is not a good thing. However I feel no better about my eyes after my appointment than I did before hand.

Part of the reason I left it so long between appointments is that when I was younger there was only one optometrist in town that bulk billed, and the optometrist there had terrible breath. I'm not making this up, he had disgusting breath, and having to sit there with his face inches from mine while he looked deep into my eyes and breathed his death breath in my face was always torture. It was almost a relief when his office announced that they would no longer be bulk billing their clients as I could no longer afford to get my eyes checked there. It also meant I couldn't afford to get my eyes checked anywhere else either, but I felt it was a small price to pay to avoid being breathed on by someone who obviously ate feet for lunch.

I recently discovered this is actually another optometrist in town that bulk bills, so off I trotted to get miss K's eyes checked when we first discovered that she inherited my lazy eye. Now that it has gotten to the point that I can't see well enough to drive at night, I decided to finally take the plunge and get my eyes checked again. I was pleasantly surprised to find that my new optometrist smells very nice. He is also very good at making nervous patients feel relaxed. (I always get nervous at eye appointments because I hate getting the tests wrong because it means that my glasses never work the way they should.) It wasn't all fun and games however as I discovered that on top of my lazy eye, astigmatism and two eyes that see different distances I also have ridges on my top lens. It has some long scientific sounding name, but I forgot it five minutes after he said it to me so I can't tell you exactly what it's called. No one knows yet how it is caused but it looks to be genetic which means there is a chance Miss K will also have the same problem with her eyes. It also looks like she'll need glasses by the time she's 3 to try and correct her lazy eye too. Then I found out that because the vision in my right eye is so weak, my lenses will have to be custom made which is going to cost me $400 for the lenses alone. Add another $300 for the frames I picked and I will be a grandmother by the time I've paid these bloody glasses off.

So it looks like it will be a while yet before I can see properly but given I've spent the last ten years squinting at everything in order to see it what's another few months??

Well I'm off to cook Miss K some dim sims for tea, have a good night everyone and if you live in Victoria, stay inside because this weather is bloody awful.

Ready spaghetti

I have finally received word from my local TAFE and they advise me that I am allowed to enrol into bookkeeping for this year, but I have to do it quickly and then catch up on 6 months worth of work in a short amount of time. Too easy right?? Let the crapping in my pants begin because as soon as I can get to the campus 30km away from here I'll be enrolled and ready to start studying. The real test will begin once I receive all of my study materials and it becomes my responsibility to complete them on top of raising Miss K and keeping on top of the housework. I have not been this nervous in a long time.

But before I even get to the course I have to do the half hour drive to TAFE and hand in the paperwork. I've told the woman I've been dealing with that I'll come up tomorrow, then I've looked at my calendar and remembered that I have 2 doctors appointments and a visit to a friend tomorrow all booked in so my day is going to be absolutely flat out. I guess it will just be a small glimpse of what my life is going to become once I'm a student.

Well I'm off to relax for an hour before I have to go pick up my brother in law. I've bought some e-books for the DS today and there are a heap of them that are on my list of books to read so I'm looking forward to this. Tomorrow Miss K is getting her 12 month immunisations and I have an optometrist appointment so this is going to be fun.

Exercise in frustration

Wow two posts in one day, I'm on a roll. But given that everyone else who is in the house with me right now is currently having their morning nap and the washing machine only stopped 20 minutes ago, I have a little while before my load of washing starts to smell, what better way to spend it than writing another post. Anything for you my wonderful readers.

I mentioned the other day that I am trying to enrol in a bookkeeping course in an attempt to update my skills and make myself more employable when the inevitable day comes that I have to go back to work. (The government says this will be once Miss K turns 6.) However it is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought. I know that May is possibly the weirdest time to decide to enrol into school given that the first half of the year is almost over, but I was prompted by the announcement that the government is about to pull it's support from the tertiary education system, and after June 30 this year there will be no subsidies for further education. It is trivial things like this that really help get a person motivated.

So I contacted my local TAFE and was told I could enrol to do my course of choice online which suits me perfectly as it means I can get an education and raise Miss K at the same time. I had the lovely woman on the telephone email me through the enrolment forms (It took me two tries to get them, as I suspect she put the phone down and then forgot about me, so I had to email her and remind her that I existed and I want an education.) Unfortunately the enrolment forms gave no indication as to how much money I was going to have to pump into my plans, nor did it tell me how to go about getting a student loan. This prompted a second phone call and a three day wait for a response from her (Why are TAFE teachers so hard to get on the phone?) The second time we spoke she was less optimistic about my prospects. This time I was told I was probably better off waiting until the start of next year and enrolling at the same time as everyone else as they were already 3 units in and I had a lot of catching up to do. (They appeared to have completed an entire unit in one week, as when we spoke the previous Monday they had completed 2 units, and she didn't think I'd have a problem catching up) Now I am no stranger to hard work, having worked in 2 law firms, and a slew of other government departments, and I reassured her that the units they had completed were all full of stuff I have spent the last 10 years doing for a wage, however she remained unconvinced and advised me she'd have to speak to somebody else in the department before making a final decision whether to accept my enrolment form. I am currently waiting for an email from her with the department's final decision about when I can enrol for my course.

Of course this isn't what really bugs me the most about trying to enrol. What gets me is the cost. Even with government subsidies, this online course is going to cost me over $1,300.00 for the course itself, and a further $600 for books and materials. (That fee I don't understand because I was under the impression that an online course meant the books and materials would be electronic, and I've looked at the cost of E-Books, they don't cost $600.) There is a massive push at the moment in Australia to get stay at home mums back in the workforce as soon as possible. (I'm not entirely convinced they wouldn't force everyone back to work as soon as the doctor sews you up if they could.) The problem with this is unless you have a degree before you go off and have your children (something I don't have) then you will wind up in a low paying job that wouldn't even cover the cost of daycare. Of course you could spend your down time as a stay at home mum brushing up on your skills and getting a degree if you can afford to go to school and put your children in daycare. (Of course you'd have to spend the rest of your time working the drive through at McDonalds just to be able to afford your week's supply of tinned spaghetti so you and your child don't starve.) The government wants its citizens to be skilled workers and have degrees and lots of wonderful letters after their names, but they don't make getting these degrees and letters easy. University courses cost tens of thousands of dollars a year, and TAFE fees aren't much better. It's a catch 22 that they have created and refuse to fix. And that people is what grinds my gears.

So for now I sit here in anticipation, waiting for the email that decides the next few years of my life. Whatever the decision is I will accept as I don't really have any other choice, but to be on the safe side I'm going to start stocking up on tinned spaghetti now in anticipation.

If I were a rich man...

Or rich woman, because the first option would require more than winning the lottery, there'd be surgery and hormone replacement and all kinds of other yucky stuff I can't think of for more than five seconds without feeling queasy. But I digress. Ladies and gentlemen, I am about to show you a picture that I have been drooling over for about 2 years now. It may not look like much to all of you, but for me, this is a dream product and one that has been on my if I won the lottery list for a long time now.

Ta daaa!!!!!

What you are looking at my wonderful readers is called the WorkBox. They can be found in the dreams of scrap-bookers around the world, or more precisely here. Look at all that storage space, and the built in table! It's perfect down to the last detail. Unfortunately it also retails for $1,695.00 US and that's money I just don't have. I have toyed around with the idea of building something similar by myself, but given that I had to call my brother in law once to build a flat pack desk for me (they forgot to add holes for the screws to go into and I don't own a drill), it seems to be a bit too advanced for my skills. But one day I will have my dream scrap-booking space, even if I have to beg my dad to build it for me. But he would do it because really, who could say no to this face??

That's right, I would even exploit my little girl if it would get me a ScrapBox. That is how much I love them.