The more I age the more I realise I am completely fucking insane.
Who would organise the first high school reunion ever, 3 weeks after she delivers her third child?
Me. Stoopid me.
Who has spent the last 2 years trying to find as many people from high school while she has two small children at home who are not yet school age. Like I didn't have enough things to do.
Me. Stoopid me.
Who has done about 150,000 Facebook and Google searches during this time and sent the approximate same number of emails?
Me. Stoopid me.
I have come to realise that I am not very bright. Actually. I knew that already. Now I realise I am bordering insane and need to be committed to the nearest mental asylum ASAP before I over organise myself into a hurricane.
It's been an interesting journey which is now less than 2 months away. I am so nervous about it and I don't know why. Maybe I am scared no one will show up. Maybe I am scared everyone will look at each other glumly in absolute silence. Maybe its because 3 weeks after the delivery of a new baby, we can safely say that I won't be looking my best. And I wanted to look HAWT. Damn the failings of a post pregnancy body.
I have learnt many things on this journey to High School Reunionism. Here are some.
1. When you stumble upon someone you recognise from high school, do not ask their friend if they are their MOTHER. Because there is a good chance they are the PARTNER of your old high school friend. Next time. Just shut the hell up you big mouthed lunatic. Cue embarrassment.
2. Reconsider giving an RSVP phone number when you have two small children. An email will suffice. Because when one of the coolest dudes and most successful out of high school rings you to confirm his RSVP, there is no chance of your daughter falling off the couch and subjecting the poor bugger to child noise pollution. Cue more embarrassment.
3. When you send an email. Hardly anyone will reply. It's just the name of the game.
4. The High School Bitch is still a Bitch and some things never change.
So I just wanted to share those things with you as I am still red cheeked and suffering mild embarrassment from Point 2. (above). Somehow writing about it makes it better.
Perhaps I would have recovered better from Point 1 (above) if I had written about that earlier, rather than hiding in the linen cupboard in the the days following the said incident.
September 23, 2010
September 21, 2010
Who am I?
They call me ROOCH.
I can spend up to 45 minutes in the shower. Then when my wife comes and says "Seriously. WTF?" I advise that I haven't yet washed myself, I have been "relaxing".
I shave my head to save money on hairdressers. Except my wife spends 5 hours cleaning up all the hair in the bathroom so it really wasn't worth it in the end.
I can pick my towel off the floor, but it is going to take many more years of my wife complaining for me to put my dirty clothes in the dirty clothes basket.
I have about 30 Tshirts but I have a close personal connection to only about 5 of those which I will wear. My wife tries to hide them in my wardrobe so I might start wearing some of the others.
I turned our beautiful spacious garage into RUCCI'S GYM, where I work out at 5.30am in the morning twice a week. Except on Saturdays when it opens at 7am much to the dismay of our once very agreeable neighbour. His house shakes when we drop the weights. That makes me laugh out loud. I make no apologies for making anyones house wibble wobble.
I have broken a total of 3 hand held blenders since I started making my protein shakes. The one I am using at the moment is also broken but my wife personally embarrassed to go back to the shop to BUY YET ANOTHER ONE.
I eat so much food for my beefcake diet that my wife struggles to keep the fridge well stocked and now we are going to have to buy a bigger fridge. There is only so much Fridge Tetris my wife can handle.
I am strong. Fiesty. Opinionated. Anti Labor.
I always take the kids somewhere on the weekend even if its just for a few hours to give my wife a break. She seems to like that very much.
I am sweet. Kind. Loving. An excellent husband. An excellent father.
I don't complain when my wife spends 90% of the money I earn on flavoured milk made by Masters and supplied by Coles.
I take pride in our home. In my work. I am possibly the best in the world at my profession, everyone else just isn't as hardworking or smart as I am.
I asked my future wife to "Go out with me" approximately 165 times during the course of my high school years. I am persistant and never give up. I always give 1000% to everything I do.
Who am I?
I am Taryn's Husband.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAULLIE. WE LOVE YOU XXX
September 11, 2010
My Mum got my name from a character in a book. She thought it was the sweetest name ever. A little bit out there. But not too crazy. Totally cute. A flower name. A happy name. Something to represent the girl my Mum hoped I would become.
When I was born, my mum and dad were very worried. I didn't stop crying for the first 3 days. Then they realised. I was hungry. They are not very bright my Mum and Dad.
I love my little brother. We are inseparable. Great mates. If he sleeps in longer than me I get upset. "I need someone to play with Mum". I say. If I can't find my brother I get very worried and freak out like I may have lost him forever. He is equally as keen on me. I am fiercely protective of him.
I am sensitive, highly strung and ruled by my emotions. I am female.
Get those pants away from me. I will only wear dresses and skirts. Anything else just isn't "pretty". "I want to be pretty Mum" I say.
I am affectionate and loving and asks for "huggles" regularly.
Despite my Dad and Mum having very curly hair my hair is quite straight in comparison. Mum still struggles to understand how this happened. I often catch Mum looking at me with a puzzled expression on her face.
I really adore my "quiet time" watching ABC Kids while my little brother naps. During this time I require the following. My blanket and the largest carrot mum can find in the fridge. Which needs to be peeled. Then I proceed to yell out to my Mum the name of EACH AND EVERY SHOW which comes on the television. You know. Just to keep her in the loop.
I have a really sweet tooth and cannot stop at one of any type of sweet treat.
I love a party. And a party must have a lolly bag. If it does not I will show you my disappointment in the loudest way possible.
I love to draw and sit at my craft table and do countless pictures and my Mum has no idea what to do with them.
Who am I?
My name is Poppy. I am 4 tomorrow.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL GIRL. WE LOVE YOU.
September 7, 2010
I have the best babysitter in the modern world. She can start work at 9am and will finish at 6pm. 7 days a week.
God bless you ABC2.
She costs nothing.
She is available on demand, whenever you need her. She'll be there. Waiting.
She never complains. She plays well with the kids. They sit quietly and listen intently to what she has to say.
I am talking about ABC2.
The day ABC2 was invented, was a happy day for me. For all parents across Australia. With no Foxtel to speak of, ABC2 was a slice of that all day kiddy action which we had been lacking.
Everyday ABC2 sprouts out great quality educational shows for children. You know. For when you need a babysitter. And a great babysitter it is. Being a Stay At Home Mum, I get no reprieve from them so I use the tv as a way to attend to household chores. By that I mean lay in bed and drink my way through litres of Nesquik, uninterupted. My kids don't go to daycare, and there is no formal schooling for them yet. So TV is my angel.
Need a break? Want a coffee? Just turn that big black box on. No phone call needed. No cash required. JUST TURN IT ON.
When I was without child, I used to judge parents for using the television as a form of entertainment. "Those parents are lazy bastards" I would chant. I could have done with a quick blow to the head with a blunt object. Ironically with a television. Now I shudder to think what a judgemental cow I was. I got over my "TV Issues" and use the television as required. We are television free in the morning. But I do turn it on in the afternoon.
The day your child is old enough to sit in front of the tv for long periods of time is a celebration in itself, especially if your child is a clingy one. Woo Hoo. You can finally remove unwanted hair from your face. Go to the toilet unaccompanied. Look in the mirror. Remove poo from walls. You know, those sorts of things.
Giggle and Hoot I love you. And Jimmy Giggle, if I was a little younger, I would totally go for you.
God bless you ABC2.
September 2, 2010
1 1/2 cups pure icing sugar
1/2 cup gluten-free flour
150 g pkt almond meal
100 g white chocolate chopped into small chunks
1 cup frozen raspberries
150 g butter melted
1 tsp vanilla essence
6 egg whites
1.Preheat oven to 180 °C or 160 °C fan. Grease a 12-cup friand or muffin pan. Sift icing sugar and flour together in a bowl. Add almond meal, white chocolate and raspberries and mix lightly to combine.
2.Whisk egg white in a separate bowl until just foamy. Add egg white to dry ingredients with the butter and vanilla and mix until combined.
3.Spoon mixture into the prepared friand pan and bake for 25-30 mins until golden. Cool friands in pan before removing. Store in an airtight container.
September 1, 2010
Ok. Before you start revving up your engines and getting all rife with me because I have used pregnancy and the subject of addiction in the same sentence, may I ask you to STOP RIGHT THERE. Take a deep breath and read on I am simply using this comparison as a form of light entertainment (hopefully for you). One can be optimistic surely?
I don't know much about addiction, drug addiction or any type of addiction. Actually I know nothing. I am the first to admit that. I am in one of those privelaged positions where no one I am close to (nor me) has had to deal with this issue in my lifetime. I hope it never comes to that. EVER. Sure I had a few puffs of a joint during my uni days and had a few puffs of a cigarette and didn't like it. Saw nothing in it. The End.
But when I am pregnant, my thirst is more than a craving. It is an addiction. I have thoughts 24/7 about when my next hit is due. From what I have heard about addiction, it's pretty similar. Of course mine is no where near as dangerous, highly concerning or potentially fatal. It just has me looking like an overstuffed water balloon waddling from fridge to fridge (with a straw). It also has me running through the house requiring a toilet very frequently. Especially through the night. Luckily we have 4 toilets in our house so I don't have to waddle very far.
When I need a hit, I need it now. A "hit" being my next scull of Nesquik be that Chocolate or Strawberry. Juice. Water. Soft Drink. Anything that takes a liquid form I want it. And I want it NOW. GIVE IT TO MEEEEEE.
So Miss 3 has overaccessorised to the point of looking like a Christmas Tree. She has to wait. I'm thirsty. Wait. Dinner is on fire? Need to whack down some OJ before I die of dehydration. What's that you say? Mr 2 has smeared shit all over the wall? I need to grab a glass and drink it dry... now. Right now. RIGHT NOW. Ah gawd. That was good. It is my first priority for the whole 9 months of pregnancy.
I wake during the night. Mission: To injest copious quantities of Apple and Blackcurrant Juice. The thought of that cold, sweet liquid just won't go away. Every floorboard in the house squeaks as I move my way through the house to satisfy my desires. I wake everyone. It's a small price to pay for my fix. I am indebted to it.
I am a little bit over it now. My dealer (Coles) is costing me dearly in the form of hard earned cash. I rock up and buy the "goods", taking the form of litres and litres of easily purchasable thirst quenching articles. And it's perfectly legal. Damn them for enabling me.
So I wait. 8 more weeks and I am totally over it. No more Nesquik, no more juice, I won't want it anymore when the baby comes. I should ring Nestle and explain. Their sales are about to drop substantially. So don't buy any shares in this company.