Discrimination or genuine concern

I promise I'm still here guys. I'm still alive and kicking (just barely some days). I am actually writing this to you from in the middle of a circus. (A metaphorical one anyway.) My sister in law and her daughter are camping out at our house at the moment, there are dramas going on with the house they live in with my little brother, so we've taken them in for a few days until some stupid paper work can get sorted out and they can return to their house. (Have I ever mentioned how much I hate bureaucracy?) Given that my niece is only 3 months older than Miss K, it's been good having a friend in the house for her to play with that is so close in age to her. Of course given that they are both only 2 and still learning about the delicate art of sharing, (something they both hate as they get royally screwed any time they have to share anything) we've had a fair few dust ups the past few days, but for the most part they get on really well.

Movie time. I was hoping they would actually go to sleep but no such luck.

So the point of today's post wasn't just to talk about the babies, it was actually to share something that happened to me at work last week. Yes I'm still employed, and according to my boss I'm doing a good job. But she still felt the need to call a staff meeting last Wednesday before we turned on the phones for the day and rush hour began. I was terrified that I was going to be given my marching orders, and had been since the day before when she locked herself and the office manager in her office for five minutes without me. I knew something big was coming and I spent the whole of Tuesday wracking my brains trying to remember anything I had done that was bad enough to get myself fired. Luckily for me I wasn't about to face the firing squad (ba boom) but there were a few things the boss wanted to bring up. One was I needed to tidy up the place a bit more, this one didn't surprise me, I hate housework so I avoid it at all costs, but I'll cop that one on the chin. The second one was that I smell like cigarette smoke. That one doesn't surprise me, my boss is a militant anti-smoker and a health nut to boot. I am very aware of the cigarette smoke, but considering I am unable to douse myself in perfumes at the office because she is also allergic to a lot of the chemicals found in deodorants and perfumes there aren't a lot of options for me. I'm still determined to quit smoking for good and this may give me the boot up the backside to go the last few yards. 

But the third and possibly strangest part of this meeting was the one where she disapproved of my work outfits. Now it wasn't strange that she didn't like my attire at work (I've had that complaint at several places that I work. I hate shirts, being so ample in the front and all, I find it difficult to find shirts that fit nicely all over so I tend to not bother wearing them at all.) Her solution was the strange part of the day, and the part I still shake my head over even four days after the fact. Normally when a boss tells me to change my work outfits, they do so with much hemming and hawing and looking at the floor. (Mainly because most of my bosses have been men who find talking about women's outfits about as comfortable as discussing their emotions.) but then they walk out of the meeting patting themselves on the back for being so tactful and leaving me to figure out exactly what the hell it is they want me to wear. But with my current boss, her solution was to have the office manager take us shopping to a local office clothing store down the road from where we work and pick out my new uniform with me. And then she paid for it.

On one hand I'm totally grateful that the boss was picking up the tab on this excursion, especially given that one new jacket, one pair of trousers and four new tops (the office manager grabbed two for herself) cost a whopping $500. But on the other hand I can't help but feel the entire process was entirely wasteful. I nearly fainted when the shop assistant tallied up the final bill, and I don't even know if that price includes the tailoring they need to do to my new trousers. (I am what the office manager calls incredibly short, but I call midget, so I always need new pants taken up.) They will quite possibly need to do the same to my new jacket when it finally comes in, and then we are getting the office logo embroidered on all the tops. It will all look very professional and when I am in the office, we will look like we have a uniform especially with the office manager and I dressing alike now, but I don't know what if anything this new look is going to accomplish except to tear me away from my nice warm duffel coat. (It is pink which happens to be the least favourite colour of my current boss, and I suspect the whole reason this make over happened in the first place.)

Now the boss was very careful in holding this meeting. She made sure that the office manager was in the room with us so that there was a witness to the whole proceedings (gotta love solicitors for preparing for the worst case scenario at all times) and she was very tactful (or as tactful as a no nonsense solicitor can ever be) about the whole thing, but it still stung. It still felt like I was being told I wasn't good enough just as I am. I have never put much stock into my appearance, and even less goes into it now that I have Miss K. My motto has always been as long as it's clean it's all good. The fact that I manage to put make up on every morning before I go to work is nothing short of a miracle for me these days. I have always thought my performance on the job mattered more than my appearance, but apparently this isn't the case any more. I don't know if I can even get enthusiastic about clothes any more, because they just mean more work when it comes to laundry day. (especially if the jacket is dry clean only.) But it looks like I'm going to have to fake it at the very least because my successful passing of the probation period now rests on my ability to smarten up my appearance. 

So I am trying. I bought myself some new gel nail polishes, I may even invest in a new eye shadow and lipstick, and this week I am going to book an appointment at the best hairdressers in town. (The fact that she has been my hairdresser since I was ten makes her the best.) And then I am going to go to work and pretend that I don't feel like mutton dressed as lamb. And hopefully that will be enough to make the boss happy and keep my backside in a job for a little while longer. I'll keep you posted.

Image courtesy of www.freedigitalphotos.net

Mutton dressed as...well mutton

Secret Subject Swap - Summer Break

Aaaand hello again my lovelies. It is that time of month again where 12 bloggers decide to go completely insane and let someone else decide the theme of their blog post for one day. We then simultaneously publish our posts, (I am determined to get mine out at the correct time this month if it kills me.) and sit back and watch you wonderful audience members enjoy the madness. So please be upstanding for part one of July's Secret Subject Swap.


Now I will start as always by introducing the other test subjects in this little experiment. 

Baking in a Tornado                              

The Momisodes                                       

Just a Little Nutty                             

Follow Me Home

Moore Organized Mayhem             

Stacy Sews and Schools                

The Sadder But Wiser Girl                                

Menopausal Mother                     

Dinosaur Superhero Mommy                                     

The Insomniac’s Dream                             

Evil Joy Speaks 

So this month my subject was submitted by Evil Joy Speaks, and the subject is (drum roll please)....

"Does summer {break} scare you? Does summer {break} entice you? Why or why not??

So first of all I gotta explain a few things for my non-Aussie readers, just so that you guys understand what the hell it is I'm talking about. Now you're probably aware that our summer is not the same time as yours. In fact while you guys are having your lovely warm summer, we are in the grips of an icy and painful winter. In fact one day last month it was foggy all day. I'm not kidding, I woke up at 8:30, it was foggy. I got Miss K her lunch at 12, it was still foggy. I went and bought dinner at 5:00, it was still foggy. It's just one of the things I hate about winter. Now what that means for us is that while you guys are having your white Christmases, we're all in our shorts and bikinis having salad and cold meat on Christmas day. And it is pretty damn awesome.

The other difference between Australia and America (I'm not sure about the rest of the world, you guys tend to keep your holidays pretty quiet.) is that we don't have the whole of summer off from school. We finish school a couple of days before Christmas, then take the rest of December and the whole of January off, with February (the last and hottest month of summer) being spent in school. I've always hated this system, but I'm sure parents all over the country are more than happy to see the back of their little darlings after 6 weeks of being full time parents. 

Now given that Miss K is still not old enough to go to school, summer holidays are a bit "same old, same old" for us, as absolutely nothing changes for us as far as our routine goes. But it does mean a change in the kinds of activities we do. There are trips to the pool, to the beach, evening walks, water fights, long hot days and long hot nights. There is a massive spike in parties and barbecues and a huge decrease in the amount of clothes worn. And who here doesn't love completely legal partial nudity??

But with the lack of clothes and the party season comes some negatives of course. The heat here in Australia can become incredibly oppressive. To give you an example, a friend of my sister in law's who lives in England was complaining of a heat wave of around 27 degrees celsius (around 80 degrees farenheit). Now when we in Australia are talking about a heat wave, we're talking 40 degree heat (104 degrees farenheit) which is quite a bit hotter, and a lot more suffocating and exhausting. If the needle ever hits 40 plus (which is happening more and more these days) the only thing you can do is stick a face washer in the freezer and stay as low to the ground as possible. (Unless you're one of those fancy pants people with an air conditioner, in which case you can do whatever the hell you like.) There are also mosquitos the size of small insects, who love the taste of human blood and fly around in swarms around barbecues and pool parties. And then there are the scorch marks you get on your hands every time you touch your steering wheel or seat belt when you get in the car. Oh and the melted tar you get on your flip flops (thongs for my Aussie friends who don't really get why you guys can't call your damn shoes thongs.) when you cross the road. 

So I can certainly find plenty of things to hate about the summer holidays, but for every negative there is at least two positives. For example, right now I'm wearing a black bear as a dressing gown as it is freezing cold here at the moment, and I'm afraid if I wear any less while sitting in my lounge room I might get frostbite. That would never happen in summer ya know. 

Well that's it for me, be sure to go and visit all the other participants, you will not be disappointed, and I'll be returning for next month's secret subject swap soon.

                                

The weekend from hell

If I ever wrote any kind of a diary (which I can never do for more than a few days at a time) this is what it would have looked like after this weekend.

Thursday 4th July 2013 6:00pm

Well today we are in Melbourne. I have been summoned up by Miss K's nonna to meet her cousin who is arriving from Italy tomorrow morning. I have been told it will be my job to keep her company tomorrow morning while Nonna is at work. Now given I don't really speak much Italian, and she doesn't speak much English this will be an interesting babysitting job. The trip up here was made easier by the fact that mum was with us on the train, she will be visiting my uncle while I'm in little Italy and we all travel together home on Saturday. I will be interested to find out if Miss K's dad has actually told nonna how short our trip is this time, he tends to forget the little details like that. After a discussion with him last week where he complained that I don't step back enough and let him take care of Miss K, I have agreed that he can bear the brunt of the parenting duties this weekend while I step back and observe from a distance. This will be interesting. I have been pleasantly surprised by the people of Melbourne today, and their willingness to help a lady with a pram get off and on public transport. I was assisted by no less than three strangers today while making the long and complicated journey from the city to the suburb where "la famiglia" live. It gives me hope that common courtesy isn't lost.

Thursday 4th July 2013 11:00pm

Well I am meant to be getting some sleep right now but it is proving impossible. It took 2 hours and a long car trip to finally get Miss K to sleep at 9pm tonight, but the sleep only lasted 2 hours and she is awake again. Nonna has offered to take her off my hands so I can get my rest, as she isn't going to bed any time soon, I think I'll take her up on the offer and try to catch some sleep.

Friday 5th July 3:00am

Just woke up to hear Miss K's screams from the garage which means two things. 1. She is still awake, 2. she is throwing the mother of all temper tantrums which means she is over tired and over indulged. Went into the garage to find her playing with her father, nonna is nowhere to be seen having gone to bed an hour ago. Miss K's dad said she wanted to go outside and when I asked why he hadn't returned her to bed he told me she didn't want to go to sleep. I drag a screaming Miss K back inside and get  her to sleep in five minutes. When will these people learn that what a 2 year old wants and what a 2 year old needs are usually two different things, and you always go with the latter? I don't mind spoiling a child and letting her bend the rules occasionally, but this is ridiculous.

Friday 5th July 7:30am

We were just woken up by a troupe of people walking through the door. The cousin has arrived and there is a whole heap of people standing in the kitchen talking over the top of one another as if they are all well rested and not encumbered with a 2 year old who always gets her own way. I envy them. Go outside to have a cigarette and complain on Facebook that I have no idea what is going on around me given my lack of understanding of the Italian language. It is very hard to be polite to these people when I am so damn exhausted right now. I still have my pyjamas on and bed hair. And to make matters worse Miss K broke my glasses again. I need coffee and lots of it.

Friday 5th July 9:00am

Am sitting in the kitchen with two people, neither of which can speak very much English. Of course one of them is 2 years old and very cute so she gets away with it. I have resorted to downloading a translation app on my phone so that I can string more than two words together for the cousin, and we are attempting a conversation. It is not easy for either of us, but I've managed to find out a little bit about her and she seems very interesting. I still do not understand why nonna tasked me with the job of keeping her company, especially since her son can actually understand Italian, even though he doesn't speak it. I have learned two new words so far, Scimmia, which means monkey, and pazzo, which means crazy. This will help me greatly in conversation because I know lots about crazy monkeys.

Friday 5th July 4:00pm

The house is full of people again. More friends wanting to meet the cousin have arrived. I tried to get a sleep in today but it wasn't successful. Miss K's father on the other hand has been in bed since he got home at 7 this morning. So much for taking care of his daughter. Apparently nonna's nose was put out of joint by the comment I passed on Facebook this morning. Or perhaps it was Tristan's suggestion that I call them all Stronzos which means asshole. While both funny and interesting it hasn't proved to be helpful in the least. I stupidly opened my mouth and offered to visit for Christmas this year, and they are already making plans so I guess I'm stuck with being away from my family for the best family day of the year this year. When will I learn to keep my fat mouth shut?

Friday 5th July 8:00pm

The house is finally empty again, Miss K was asleep at a reasonable hour (it only took ten minutes of fighting and three rounds of there was an old lady who swallowed a fly tonight) and I am alone to enjoy my headache. My glasses were well and truly broken this morning which means I am blind until next Thursday when I can finally make time in my schedule to visit the optometrist. I'm overdue anyway but the headaches aren't fun. Miss K's father did forget to mention we were leaving tomorrow (I knew he would) but I have informed nonna that tonight was our last night and she has very kindly offered to drive us as close to the city as she can tomorrow morning. Need to check train timetables and organise to meet mum and my uncles at the station. Tomorrow is my cousin's engagement party and I do not want to miss this for the world. Our family parties are legendary. I have decided to spend the evening hiding in the front room on our blow up mattress and read the hunger games for the millionth time tonight. I can't listen to another word of Italian for now.

Saturday 6th July 7:00am

Miss K and I have been awake for an hour. We've had breakfast and watched a whole episode of High 5 and still no one else is awake. I've packed our bags and cleared the house of all of our belongings, now I just need someone else to wake up so I can finally turn on the coffee machine and get the caffeine pumping into my system again. Why is it that the only time I want people up early in this house is the one day they decide to have a sleep in?

Saturday 6th July 10:30am

I have just missed my train back home again. I am so frustrated right now. Nonna finally woke up at 8:00 and I informed her I needed to be out of the house by 9:30 at the latest. 9:45 we finally left the house and she spent the next hour arguing with her son about the best route to the train station. I had been told the trip would take 25 minutes at the most. And of course it's all my fault because I didn't tell her I needed to be gone until an hour and a half before the fact. This of course ignores the fact that I couldn't tell her any earlier because she was locked in her bedroom. What's worse is that mum has my train ticket as I brought all the tickets at the same time and handed them to her for safe keeping. I now need to wait 20 minutes for the next train into the city and another hour after that for the next train back home and back to sanity. I'm also going to miss most of the engagement party because it starts at 1, and I won't get home till 2, then I need to get both Miss K and I dressed, (we tend to travel comfortable.) so who knows what time I'll get there. I kept telling nonna that it was fine and I'll just catch a later train but I'm so angry right now I could spit.

Saturday 6th July 7:00pm

Well that was one hell of a weekend. Miss K and I are finally home from the engagement party (we were an hour and a half late so we missed lunch but we made it for the speeches.) I didn't have much time to chat to my cousin which was a shame because I don't see him all that much but I did get to catch up with some family members which usually only happens at Christmas and birthdays so that was good. Miss K and I made our excuses at about 4:30 because we were both drained and ended up zoning out in front of the telly and the computer until her bed time. She didn't even want dinner tonight so she got sent to bed full of paracetamol (for her lovely cold) half an hour early. There was a new comment on my Facebook status when I got home from nonna, calling all the people who had commented on my post "stronzos" which means she has just insulted my family. So I'm done. No Christmas, no weekend visits once a month, no more being nice period. She wants to see a stronzo, she's got it. Mum has just walked in with a 6 pack of rum and cola so I think it's time I drowned my sorrows and forgot this whole hellish weekend even happened. Thank goodness for work on Monday.

image source www.freedigitalphotos.net

Pictured: me all weekend

First week as a working mum

So I had a feeling it would be some time before I felt I had enough energy to come back to you guys, and I wasn't wrong. So first before I get to the point of today's post, a quick update on the little things that have happened this week.

Miss K got over her gastro after about five days. We only had spewing for three of those days, and yuck nappies for another day. She has now been clever enough to catch a cold on my first day off, so I've been dealing with snot these past three days, which while still gross is a lot easier on my sensitive gag reflex. Her dad has split up with his girlfriend and moved back to his mother's house in Melbourne, (no huge surprises there, I've been predicting this would happen for about 2 weeks now.) so we're back to square one when it comes to his visits. We missed speech therapy last week, because of her stomach bug, but we were back again this week and she is improving with such speed it is wonderful to watch. I now need to go out and buy her a few jigsaw puzzles, because she played with some at speech therapy and was so good at it, I feel it's something we need to bring into the house. Miss K is also adjusting brilliantly to spending so much time at her aunty's house, possibly because she has so much fun there. This week alone they went toy shopping, visited my nephew's kindergarten and went to a cafe for lunch. There have been no tantrums when I leave for work, no tears or clinging or anything negative at all. I get a wave and a kiss and she returns to playing. It has definitely made returning to work a lot easier that she is so OK with me not being around all the time. Also knowing that she is in the best place possible means I don't spend the day worrying if she is OK. Of course this week may be different given she is unwell, but I've already been reassured that a sticky green nose isn't a problem.

Now on to the point of today's post. I've been back at work for three days now, and when I thought about going back to work, I always thought the hardest part of the whole process would be leaving Miss K behind. It turns out that was the easiest part. I know I should be going easy on myself as I've been out of the workforce for three years now, but I suck at my job. It has been so long since I've been this bad at my work and it feels terrible. Once upon a time I used to put a lot of stock into the fact that I could learn new jobs fairly quickly, which made being a temp worker a breeze. In fact the first time I got this job it started as a temporary assignment when one of their secretaries up and quit very quickly, and I was so good at the job she asked me to stay on once the contract was finished. It was probably a huge risk for her, given I had next to zero experience working in a solicitor's office, but she gave me the chance and I was grateful for it.

Well she's taken another huge risk taking me back again, for several reasons. The first being the last time I worked there I unceremoniously quit after 6 months, staying only long enough to train a new secretary to take my place, and two I've spent the last three years ignoring the many things I've learnt while working over the past ten years in lieu of tea parties and dirty nappies. And I'm paying for it now. I don't remember where they keep all the legal documents, I can't remember the process for filing things with the court, I had forgotten the security pass for the front door and locked myself out the first day I was there, and I am so very, very slow at completing my work right now. When I left there the last time, I was able to get through a basket of dictation in a day. This week it took me three days to get through a basket. But on the plus side I started a second basket on Wednesday, and managed to get through almost half of it by the end of the day. So I guess you could say I'm getting better, but it's going to take quite some time to get back to my former quality of work. Luckily for me my boss is completely understanding of my position, and is willing to give me the benefit of the doubt when it comes to what I am able to do (or will be able to do eventually.) It just means that for now she checks absolutely everything I do before she allows it to leave the office, which I am totally fine with.

So we are back to playing the wait and see game. I now have to wait and see how long it takes to get good at this job again, I have to wait and see if Miss K is going to be as happy to be left at her favourite aunty's house for three days in a row this week, and I have to wait and see if my big sister finally comes to her senses and realises that my darling daughter is Dennis the Menace in disguise and decides to start pretending she's not at home whenever we come over first thing in the morning. But in the mean time I do have to say how very grateful I am that I have so many people around who are so happy to turn their lives upside down so that I can get what I want. Especially my big sister and her whole family, who have suddenly become cured of any last hints of cluckiness in the past week. There is not a bunch of flowers big enough to say how thankful I am for their help.

photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Would a field of flowers be enough? probably not.

How to deal with a spewy toddler

Hello again you fine ladies and gentlemen, you'll have to excuse my latest absence from the blogging world, but I have been up to my armpits in partially digested stomach contents since Monday, so I decided you lovely people had to be put on the back burner for a few days until Miss K got over her gastro. Now every single time I have ever encountered gastroenteritis in the past 29 years, it has always been a 24 hour lurgy. One whole day of misery and discomfort, followed by a few days spent recovering from the horror that is seeing everything you eat come back at you in technicolor. But Miss K likes to shake things up and keep me on my toes, so we've had 3 days of vomiting, followed by one day of me jumping every time she so much as twitched strangely. I also learned thanks to Miss K's Nonna, as well as Nurse on Call and one of our local doctors, that gastro doesn't always last a mere 24 hours. I've been helpfully told that it can go for as long as ten days. That's a lot of vomit.

Well this whole week has been one giant learning curve for me, as this is the first time I've ever had to care for a child with gastro, so I have decided because I am just such a kind and giving person that I needed to share my new found knowledge with you guys. If there is anyone out there who is yet to have a child (one of my good friends Kelly is due to pop very soon, if she hasn't already so this may be hugely helpful for her) then this may help you guys to avoid making the same mistakes I did this week. So grab a pencil and a notepad, and make sure you haven't eaten anything too heavy before reading this, because it gets pretty yucky.

1. Don't wear your finest clothes for a while

This is a big one. You will get vomited on. Several times if you're lucky. So you're going to need to make sure you leave your dry clean only clothes in the closet until the infection is well and truly out of your house. Stick to dark colours, something that is easy to rip off while you are dealing with a screaming child that is also covered in vomit would also be helpful. Oh and a nice thick jumper probably wouldn't hurt as it can help prevent seepage into undergarments. Just saying.

2. Don't worry about trying to get them to the toilet in time

This one took me two whole days to learn. My first instinct when someone is doing a faithful recreation of that scene from the exorcist is to try to get them to the toilet or at least a basin as fast as possible. The problem with this is small children lack the ability to hold it in until you get them to an appropriate receptacle, meaning that you'll probably end up with a clean toilet, but a nice long trail of vomit (or poop) for you to clean up. After I spent two days mopping every non carpeted floor in the house, and disinfecting every carpet in the house I started just carrying a bucket around with us. It saved a lot of time and cleaning.

3. Learn a few shortcuts to make this time easier

If you've got a kid with long hair, put it in plaits for a few days. Put a towel over their pillow to make cleaning up a bit easier. Put them in clothes that are easy to remove without spreading their entire digestive system over the rest of their body in the process. Place buckets strategically around the high traffic areas to save having to scramble for one at the last minute. It is the little things like this that will make dealing with stomach catastrophes easier to cope with.

4. Take any help that is offered to you

Now I don't know about you, but I feel guilty making other people clean up my daughter's spew. But the time it took to completely deal with a mess when I was alone compared to the time it took when I had helpers was a lot longer, and more stressful. On the plus side I was less embarrassed about mopping our floors and doing laundry in my underpants, until I remembered that it was pitch black outside, and I hadn't shut our laundry blinds, so if my neighbors were the spying kind, they would have seen everything. I'm going to assume that given that I haven't been presented with any bills for psychiatric counseling this week that no one was looking, but I'm still checking the mail every day just to make sure.

5. Don't feel ashamed if the little things get forgotten for a few days

So when you're dealing with sick children, you tend to get a lot of extra work piled on to your already giant to do list. There's the extra laundry, extra cleaning, extra hugs and kisses needed, extra fluids to hand out and lots of time spent worrying. If you can't be bothered cooking a three course meal for every healthy family member during this time, then don't. If you decide to stock your freezer with microwave meals and tell them to figure it out for themselves, more power to you. Now I can say with great happiness that I do not have a huge mess waiting for me once Miss K is completely healthy again, but that is only because I had mum here keeping the place clean, as well as my beautiful big sister who made her kids help tidy up the lounge room every day this week while they were visiting us. My laundry and Miss K's are only completely up to date because Miss K decided to test the stain resistance of every item we wore this week, so I had to keep on top of the washing so we didn't descend into total nudity before the end of the first day. Everything else was at the back of my mind.

6. Try not to spend too much time worrying

This is a hard one. Like I said at the very beginning, gastro can last up to ten days. That could mean ten days of freaking out because your darling little one is ill. It's a horrible bug, and it will knock the stuffing out of them, but they will survive it and so will you. I have almost cried every single day this week just from exhaustion and concern. I hate seeing my baby so sick, and I hate the feeling of being thrown up on. I hate having to refuse to give Miss K milk because you can't give a sick kid dairy (and Miss K loves her dairy products.) and I hate not being able to take her pain away the most. But today she almost had her old sparkle back in her eyes. She was playing almost like normal again, to the point where she was frog hopping around the doctor's surgery while we were waiting for him. It's been four long days since I've seen the old Miss K, but she is slowly (so very, very slowly) coming back to me, and we are almost at the end of this awful infection. And despite the sleepless nights and long days, we have both survived. But I'm sure I'll still be a twitchy nervous mess for another few days. I seriously hate vomit.

Well that's all from the quarantine for now, I'm off to get some well deserved sleep, and I think Miss K and I are going to tempt fate tomorrow morning by giving her a glass of milk. Her first one in four days, but I promised her today if she made it through an entire day without throwing up, we could start eating dairy again, and frankly, I think she's earned it.

 

Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

 Is it sad that this is our reward?

Stay awesome everyone and I'll be back again soon hopefully.

June Secret Subject Swap

Hello again my lovelies, and welcome back to yet another Secret Subject Swap. I am a part of Take Two of the June Secret Subject Swap (because this stuff is just so awesome it can't be contained in a single week) along with 11 other wonderful bloggers.

 

So for any of you who are unfamiliar with this series, what happens is that 12 brave bloggers each submit a secret subject for another person to write about, and in return they are given a secret subject to write a blog on. Then we all simultaneously post our blogs at the same time (or if you're like me and still can't figure out time zones, you post an hour late.)

So without further ado, let me introduce to you the other 11 lovely bloggers who you absolutely must check out once we're finished here.

Baking in a Tornado

Black Sheep Mom

Outsmarted Mommy

Indian American Mom

Daily Dose of Damn

A Working Mom's "Whoas"

Dawn's Disaster

Akashic Aisles The Basement View

The Pursuit of Normal

Home on Deranged

Evil Joy Speaks

So today my subject to discuss is "Describe the worst nightmare you have ever had and what you think your subconscious was trying to relay...if anything" and it was submitted by Akashic Aisles The Basement View

Ok so you are all going to think I'm crazy by the end of this post, because my family certainly does when I tell this story, which I do often for some reason. I've had lots of nightmares over the years, mostly bog standard stuff; people dying, getting lost, losing all of my clothes and having to walk around naked. But the only nightmare that has stuck with me my entire life was the most bizarre dream I have ever had, and not only that, it was a recurring nightmare. I call it The Onion Rain!!!

So the premise behind the dream was pretty simple. We were about to be hit with a freak storm of Onion Rain. With this rain, anyone who got hit by it would fly into the air and then flip around and come back down to earth upside down. Once you landed on the ground you were stuck upside down with your head buried in the earth like an onion. (Now given that I was in primary school at the time that this dream started, I have no idea how I knew how onions grew.) Mum and dad were madly rushing around trying to prepare for the storm, closing all the windows and blinds, making sure we had enough food to last us till the rain stopped, calling my grandma and making sure she stayed inside. All us kids were helping out too and it was all pretty scary. We were told that the rain was coming and we had about five minutes to get inside to safety before it would hit us. That was the point at which I remembered I'd left my bike in the front yard, and I had to bring it in to the bike shed quickly. There were probably two reasons for this, number one we were NEVER allowed to leave toys in the front yard, and if we did we would get into all sorts of trouble, and two; I didn't want my bike to turn into an onion. 

So I figured I had about five minutes to get into the front yard, grab my bike and take it to the shed halfway down the back yard. I started sprinting to the yard, got to my bike and that's when the rain decided to come. Four freaking minutes early dammit! I vividly remember the feeling of those first cold drops of rain, and the terror that rushed through me. Then before I knew it I was flying into the air above our rooftop, only to flip upside down and watch the earth rise up to meet me. I landed with my head firmly buried in the ground and my legs flailing around madly as I tried to free myself from being an onion. And that's the point where I wake up. Why I can't wake up before I become an onion I'll never know but damn that is one freaky dream. Especially when you're six and too young to understand that there is no such thing as onion rain. As you can tell, the dream has stuck with me, despite the fact that it hasn't returned since primary school.

As for what my subconscious was trying to tell me, I can only speculate now, but I have a few theories. It could have been telling me that life is fleeting, and I need to make sure I am truly prepared for what the future is going to throw at me, or it could have been saying that our environment is a delicate thing which needs to be respected in order to stop catastrophic disasters from happening. Or it could have been telling me that I need to take better care of my belongings otherwise I'll turn into an onion.

Now in the interests of science (or because Miss K is having a nap and I'm super bored right now) I actually found a dream interpreter and have looked up the symbols behind each of the important parts of the dream.

Onions represent the multitude of layers you need to get through in order to unveil what is really underneath. They may mean a revelation.

Getting rained on represents getting cleaned from your troubles and problems

To see a bike in your dream means that you need to devote more time to leisurely pursuits. (what part of a six year old's life isn't devoted to leisurely pursuits?)

To dream of a disaster means that you are anxious and fear change.

So it appears that I was pretty deep for a six year old. I now think that my dream was telling me that I needed to realize that change is nothing to fear, because they say that change is as good as a holiday, and according to myself, I needed a damn good holiday to get rid of my troubles and strife. How's that for interpretation?

Well now that I have relived one of my biggest childhood horrors, I'm off to throw out every single onion in the house  and lock myself in the basement. Be sure to check out the rest of the bloggers posting their subjects today, I promise you now you won't be disappointed.

 

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MAKE THEM STOP!!!!

Oh I also almost totally forgot that today, as well as being the most awesome day of the month because it's Secret Subject Swap day is also Karen from Baking in a Tornado's one year blog anniversary. (I was going to say blogiversary but that just sounds so wrong.) So to Karen, happy anniversary, congratulations to making it a year without going crazy coming up with new awesome recipes to share with us every week, and thank you for helping to bring together some of the most wonderful writers I have ever had the privilege to work with. Here's to you and many more years of success.

 

Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

Sorry, I started celebrating without you. That's me in the blue shirt and party hat.

Gainfully employed

Ok so I have actually been sitting on this news for over 12 hours now, but I had to make sure I told all the important people in person before shouting it out over the internet, but I have a job! I got the call at 9:30 this morning letting me know. So apologies to all of you who have been sitting here all day waiting for the good news.

Now I don't know if any of you believe in serendipity, or karma, or even guardian angels, but someone was certainly looking out for me today, because I got the three days work I asked for, a higher salary offer than I could have hoped for, and a week and a half to prepare for my return to work. Apparently the person they were interviewing after me was happy having two days work per week, and was also happy to take the days I didn't want, so I still get to attend all of Miss K's group therapy sessions, and I can still schedule doctors appointments, eye specialist appointments and any other appointments so that I can attend them all. Can anyone else say super psyched?? And also, thanks to having the best big sister in the world, I don't have to ship Miss K off to daycare, as she will be taken care of in the comfort of her favourite aunty's house surrounded by people she knows, loves and trusts. It all just seems too good to be true.

I'm still nervous as all hell, as this is something I've never ever even thought of trying before, and there is still so much that the next few months hold that I can't even prepare myself for, because I don't know what is going to happen. All I can do is hope that Miss K copes with the transition to being babysat three days a week, and I cope with being separated from her for the longest time I have ever tried since she was born. I've not admitted to anyone that my biggest fear is missing my baby. Not that she won't cope without me, not that she'll forget me, but that I won't cope without her. I know I complain about how hard being a mum is, and I roll my eyes occasionally when she starts whinging at me for drinks, but truth be told I need that little girl just as much as she needs me. As demanding as she is, and as weird as she is at times, (and trust me, Miss K has the market cornered in weird.) my baby is the only reason I get out of bed in the morning. (Mainly because before she was born I used to sleep in until lunch time, but let's not split hairs here.)

So wish me luck guys, because I'm going to need it. Especially when it comes to remembering that adult's don't appreciate it as much as kids do when you spontaneously start dancing around like an idiot.

 

Image courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

They also don't appreciate spandex, but then again who does?