Friday, November 28, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Then the president bailed me up, desperately seeking people to fill roles.
Meet the new 4yo enrolment officer.
Saying no? I can't do it.
Friday, November 21, 2008
We went to the shops after work tonight to get a present for our new neice / cousin (Harper; I will tell you more about that shortly).
Anyway, Connor noticed him first.
"CHRISTMAS IS HERE!!!!"
Ok. So, we meandered over (because, at this point, I am SOOOO not expecting anything, especially after the 'no way, piss off' we got last year) and Riley walked straight up to Santa and asked to sit on his knee.
So, of course Connor wanted part of it. Although, he wasn't as impressed with it.
But I was. How GOOD is it!!???
Anyway. This week, my SIL gave birth to a beautiful little (well, not so little, she was 36w and 8 POUNDS 10 OUNCES!!!) girl before ending up in a diabetic coma. She seems to be slipping in an out; according to what I know, her body is having issues deciding whether it wants insulin or not. So, she's either constantly overdosed or underdosed. She's meant to make a full recovery, but it was a little scary for awhile.
Anyway. THE morning. G rings me.
'K has had the baby. Wanna know the name??'
'yes yes yes!! Is it Anderson??"
"Nup: it's HARTHER"
I was stunned. "HARTHER?? Surely you mean HARPER"
'Nup!! It's H and then Arthur".
I should note here that her choices in baby names are...interesting. Anderson was the second choice for the girls name and, quite frankly, far better. But, Anderson didn't get a look in and she called this one HARTHER????
I couldn't possibly believe it. So, instead, I checked with MIL.
"no, it's Harper". She sighed. "I'd have much rathered Anderson"
The sigh of relief was palpable.
Funny - it's starting to grow on me. Far better than 'Harther' anyway.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
So, instead of realising that, accepting that, and moving on, I decided to text all my friends.
I meal plan. And Monday night, I had no ideas whatsoever. Sick of the same, boring old thing. So, I had a brainwave. I sent a message to selected people (I thought) asking them for one receipe. Just one, to give me some ideas.
And, on the plus side, I got heaps. Lots of ideas, which was great. I'm going to put them all on an email and send them to everyone.
The downside. Somehow, I sent it to every single person in my phone book. Except Jenn. Because, Jenns number in my phone isn't Jenns number at all. But, all my work contacts, all the boys at work....every single person in my phone book. Embarassed much?
But, I didn't realise this at the time. And, Tuesday morning, I got a text back from 'Jenn' (amongst all the electricians, service managers and clients who decided it was rather funny) and it certainly wasn't something I expected from Jenn. 'She' replied, and that was that.
Except, it wasn't Jenn. And, I don't know how it wasn't Jenn.
And, again, I've started something.
But, I finished it just as easily.
I'm not asking for receipes anymore.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
People have asked me 'oooh free time!! What do you do with it?? Answer? Have stupid ideas and turn them into a reality.
It's not great; even I can see that, as a painter, I make an excellent accountant. But, he's going to love it. And I've had a really nice few Thursday afternoons alone painting it.
In other news; the cake.
For Connors birthday, we had a little 'invite some friends over (i.e. my girlfriend with her 3 kids) and we'll have a party'. Because the oldest is Riley, I thought 'you know, I should make a cake for them. I've already got one sorted for the family thing; maybe I should just whip together a dinosaur mudcake. They'll lurrvveee that'.
So, I did. Big mistake was made pretty early on. The receipe (because, I made it from scratch) said 'put one 450g block of chocolate and a ton of butter in a saucepan and melt'. Cool. So, I did that.
Before reading Step #2 - I put all the fatty chocolatey mixture into the dry ingredients. Then I read; 'Put HALF of this heart attack inducing stuff into the cake - the rest is for the icing you dumbass'
Ooops. I should've ditched the cake at that point. Precisely that point. But, nooo.
Think 'meh. It's a cake. It's chocolate. They are chocolate sucking vampire-children. I'll cook it and deal with the fallout'.
Except chocolate, when there is too much of it, won't go HARD in the oven will it?? Nope, FYI, it BOILS.
Get cake out. Stick cake in fridge for a day. Still not hard. Ok, you stupid cake, in the freezer you go.
Got it at least half frozen, so I can at least cut it into a semblance of a dinosaur. Ice cake with butter icing (hence the reason for me not even considering the chocolate for the icing) and bung it back in the freezer.
Get it out;
I can't get it off the plate.
It is so damn fudge like, it's STUCK to the plate.
Apparently, it tasted wonderfully. Me? If I ever eat chocolate again, please kill me. The amount of mess even touching this sludgy excuse for a cake was astounding. I am suprised that there was enough to turn into a dinosaur.
The real cake? The original cake that I had planned to make and executed perfectly??
Perfect. And he whacked it good.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Today, my little baby, my pocket rocket, turned 3.
Today, we all remembered the lives of those lost - so that we could live the way we do today.
Today, I cried a little. Cried for the loss of my baby metaphorically; and cried for those mothers who lost sons literally.
Today, I laughed a little. At my little boy holding his own, at last, amongst his big friends.
Today, I changed a little.
Happy birthday my darling boy. I think of you and my heart aches. I hope that you never ever lose that cheeky charisma. Ever.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
When I say 'control' I do not mean psychotic like control. I mean, in charge of my surroundings, as much as one can be.
I have big issues with control. I like to have it, do not like to lose it and lose my way incredibly easily when I do lose it.
Lately though; I've been losing control of my world; just a teensy bit. The couch cushions have not always been the correct way, and I have even slept well.
It sounds so utterly pathetic when I write it down; but it has been such an ingrained part of me that, now I feel as though I am losing it, I don't quite know which way to look next.
But, I don't feel sick about it. I don't even feel really badly about it. I, rebelliously, am actually liking it.
Obviously there is a line somewhere between utterly controlling and completely uninterested and I don't feel as though I am uninterested. It's not like before, when I was depressed where I didn't care about anything. I *do* care about it; but am not so….life or death about it.
For those who don't know, I have had counselling on and off for many years. My old counsellor has actually retired, I've seen him for so long. 23 years is a long time to have an 'official' psychologist. I do have a new one now, who I tend to see monthly. He thinks it's fantastic that I am learning the ability to let go of things – even just a little bit.
But I'm not quite sure how much I'm prepared to let go yet. Do I just brazenly bugger everything? Or, is it a take it step by step approach? Learn to laugh and let life take it's natural course? Or freak out and try and shove everything somewhere so it appears that I have everything sorted? At the minute, I am kind of in the middle. How do you work it out? Is it just something that comes naturally? Or are you like me, actually having to fight the urge to not control everything?
So, I'm kind of floating around the middle at the minute. Not apathetically, not enthusiastically; just floating about. And I quite like it and want more of it; but my neurotic, controlling nature starts to stir up in my gut and winds me up – 'you haven't done the cushions ORRRRR the folding before a new load of washing today, you're losing the plot, you'll lose control and drown again….by the way, the kids beds aren't made and there's bits and bods evverrrywhereee…you're losing it again Shel….' But, I'm doing my utmost to tell it to jump on it's head. Because, at the end of the day, when I'm dead, it AINT GOING TO MATTER that the beds were made everyday. And G often laughs that he's going to put 'Here lies Shel – she had a clean house' on my headstone. I start to fear that it's all there is of me.
It's a massive day in the world today; Barack Obama is now the official US president. And I am thrilled. It feels like a whole new chapter is ready to be written – for the entire world.