Thursday, September 27, 2007
The evils of corprate giants
Recently, a new ad campaign has started up for a certain multi national fast food company which has a catchy little tune , singing about the virtues of bacon. I think that the person who is a songwriter for the Wiggles wrote it, because my 2 year old LOVES it and has taken to singing it at 4am, interspersed with snatches of "twinkle, twinkle little star" and renditions of some kind of made up song. As much as I love my kids, I am having trouble remaining a calm, patient mummy when standing in his doorway at 5am politely asking him to shut up. It is also leading to very ugly scenes at my workplace by 10am, when the strongest coffee in the world is not help and I need to making rational decisions (not my strongest point when I've had 10 hours sleep) about serious work issues. Have also discovered that a keyboard really hurts your face when you fall asleep at your desk.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Milestones, fun runs and gastrolyte
Yet again a lapse between blogs, but have had my head down the toilet with the fabulous gastro bug that swept through Canberra recently. The plus side was that I caught up on a few DVDs that have bee sitting around and have deepened my appreciation of my toothbrush, gastrolyte and ritz biscuits.
The last 10 days or so have been ones full of milestones – I finally hit the official halfway mark in my weightloss (25kg down, 25 to go). It is partly great and partly disheartening. The great part is that I’ve lost 25kg, the disheartening part is that I still have to lose 25kg (at least). I know that sounds really silly, but that’s the way it goes. Another milestone was also achieved – I ran in the Canberra Times fun run with my best friend, Sue. We both agree that the concepts of “fun” and “run” are ones that really never were meant to meet : an oxymoron at best, a completely sadistic idea at worst. Still, I’m the one who suggested it to Sue and then signed us up online so early we had the race bib numbers 13 and 14, so I can’t whinge that much. Someone at work asked me on the Friday what my race plan was. I burst out laughing until I realized they were serious and were waiting to hear my answer. So I told them, in all seriousness, my plan was to stand behind the sign that said “start”, start running when the gun went off, put one foot in front of the other until I passed the sign that said “finish”. My main focus during the race would be making sure I moved enough air into my lungs so I at least remained an attractive shade of purple and, if there was enough energy left, not slipping on the reflective cat’s eyes along the road. This was a specialty of mine in the dim, dark past when I did a fair bit of road running. Looks spectacular (especially if it is raining – those cat’s eyes are like polished glass and you can achieve a cartwheel that a Russian gymnast would be proud of) and often got me a round of applause from those driving past in cars. It was around this stage that this person worked out I was having a bit of fun with them and went off in a huff. Way too serious, some of these runners. I’ve seen myself running and it can’t be described as anything except bloody funny, so I really don’t see what all of the furrowed brows and earnest conversation is about. Also, let’s face it – looking at me, most normal people can work out I’m not going to be braking any land speed records.
Anyway, the run ranged from good to “why did I ever think this was a good way to spend a Sunday morning?????” and I crossed the line in 77 minutes, which I am really happy with. 7 Months ago I couldn’t run more than 500m without having to stop and walk, so 10km is a big achievement. That said, once I crossed the finish line, I staggered around a bit and then had a little sit down on the grass, which was a big mistake because getting back up necessitated a lot of those involuntary noises that tend to come out of you when your muscles really would prefer you to just lie still for a little bit longer. It doesn’t matter that a whole lot of other runners are coming through behind you and may just trample you a bit, it really is better just not to move. I think it sounds a bit like “huraighph” and is often accompanied by a fair bit of levering yourself off your knees and wandering around with hands on hips. Very elegant. One thing that was really great was at the finish line, Tim and the kids were waiting and cheering me on. Something like that makes you feel like the Olympic marathon champion. A very puffed, tired, about to throw up marathon champion, but marathon champion none the less.
The last 10 days or so have been ones full of milestones – I finally hit the official halfway mark in my weightloss (25kg down, 25 to go). It is partly great and partly disheartening. The great part is that I’ve lost 25kg, the disheartening part is that I still have to lose 25kg (at least). I know that sounds really silly, but that’s the way it goes. Another milestone was also achieved – I ran in the Canberra Times fun run with my best friend, Sue. We both agree that the concepts of “fun” and “run” are ones that really never were meant to meet : an oxymoron at best, a completely sadistic idea at worst. Still, I’m the one who suggested it to Sue and then signed us up online so early we had the race bib numbers 13 and 14, so I can’t whinge that much. Someone at work asked me on the Friday what my race plan was. I burst out laughing until I realized they were serious and were waiting to hear my answer. So I told them, in all seriousness, my plan was to stand behind the sign that said “start”, start running when the gun went off, put one foot in front of the other until I passed the sign that said “finish”. My main focus during the race would be making sure I moved enough air into my lungs so I at least remained an attractive shade of purple and, if there was enough energy left, not slipping on the reflective cat’s eyes along the road. This was a specialty of mine in the dim, dark past when I did a fair bit of road running. Looks spectacular (especially if it is raining – those cat’s eyes are like polished glass and you can achieve a cartwheel that a Russian gymnast would be proud of) and often got me a round of applause from those driving past in cars. It was around this stage that this person worked out I was having a bit of fun with them and went off in a huff. Way too serious, some of these runners. I’ve seen myself running and it can’t be described as anything except bloody funny, so I really don’t see what all of the furrowed brows and earnest conversation is about. Also, let’s face it – looking at me, most normal people can work out I’m not going to be braking any land speed records.
Anyway, the run ranged from good to “why did I ever think this was a good way to spend a Sunday morning?????” and I crossed the line in 77 minutes, which I am really happy with. 7 Months ago I couldn’t run more than 500m without having to stop and walk, so 10km is a big achievement. That said, once I crossed the finish line, I staggered around a bit and then had a little sit down on the grass, which was a big mistake because getting back up necessitated a lot of those involuntary noises that tend to come out of you when your muscles really would prefer you to just lie still for a little bit longer. It doesn’t matter that a whole lot of other runners are coming through behind you and may just trample you a bit, it really is better just not to move. I think it sounds a bit like “huraighph” and is often accompanied by a fair bit of levering yourself off your knees and wandering around with hands on hips. Very elegant. One thing that was really great was at the finish line, Tim and the kids were waiting and cheering me on. Something like that makes you feel like the Olympic marathon champion. A very puffed, tired, about to throw up marathon champion, but marathon champion none the less.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
The last two weeks Part 2
I bet you are wondering how I can possibly top my last post. What an action packed week! Things calmed down a bit and then revved up again on the Friday, where we attended the birthday party of my daughter's best friend. The amount of noise that 4 girls can generate is quite phenomenal, then throw two excited boys into the mix and you could safely call it a lunatic asylum. Add several pizzas, soft drink and lollies and the result is something that even Dante could not have imagined. My daughter stayed for a "sleepover" (whoever coined that term NEVER attended one, as bugger all sleep actually happens) and we dragged the boys home. William decided that the best way to end the week would be to copiously vomit everywhere for the next 6 hours. Pink, heart shaped marshmallows mixed with pizza and red fizzy drink go a spectacularly long way when forced out at high velocity from a small person and I can now confidently say that all of my sheets and towels are freshly washed and disinfected. The mattress in our room and his room are also very clean. Lovely. We spent the next day lying on the lounge watching kids DVDs as we were all running on very little rest and hey, when you are that tired, "Finding nemo" can make sense to you in a way it never has before. Our daughter was delivered home with an attitude roughly the size of Texas and gave us a lovely preview of how much fun we are going to have when she is 13, when I am planning to lock her in her room and just post food under the door so I don't have to deal with her.
Sunday rolled around and we all seemed to be getting back to normal when Tim came down with the same vomiting bug, which meant not too much sleep on Sunday night, as our ensuite does have a lovely echo going when you're in there. I reckon the poor bloke nearly bought the socks he was wearing back up. Anyway, Monday meant chaos, as Tim is the organised one in our house and suddenly I had to do it. So I cheated - the kids got lunch orders from the school canteen and I have to say I was considering the virtues of packaged, dried noodles for brekky pretty seriously when William decided to plaster his nutella toast all over the chair he was sitting on. Very art deco/modernist but hell on the fabric. Anyway, we somehow made it out the door without anyone wearing their undies on the outside of their clothes or school bags on fire. Various drops offs took place at schools and childcare centres, then I went to work, put my head on my keyboard and had a fabulous day of what I like to call "presenteeism" - I'm physically at work (present) but my brain was in the Bahamas. I think. It didn't send me a postcard. Tim is now much better and is facing the endurance event that is parent/teacher interview night at his school. I never appreciated how hard these can be on a teacher until I ended up married to one - how do you tell a parent that their child is going swimmingly in classes, but something really needs to be done about the way they keep taking their clothes off and running around the oval? Tricky, very tricky.
Sunday rolled around and we all seemed to be getting back to normal when Tim came down with the same vomiting bug, which meant not too much sleep on Sunday night, as our ensuite does have a lovely echo going when you're in there. I reckon the poor bloke nearly bought the socks he was wearing back up. Anyway, Monday meant chaos, as Tim is the organised one in our house and suddenly I had to do it. So I cheated - the kids got lunch orders from the school canteen and I have to say I was considering the virtues of packaged, dried noodles for brekky pretty seriously when William decided to plaster his nutella toast all over the chair he was sitting on. Very art deco/modernist but hell on the fabric. Anyway, we somehow made it out the door without anyone wearing their undies on the outside of their clothes or school bags on fire. Various drops offs took place at schools and childcare centres, then I went to work, put my head on my keyboard and had a fabulous day of what I like to call "presenteeism" - I'm physically at work (present) but my brain was in the Bahamas. I think. It didn't send me a postcard. Tim is now much better and is facing the endurance event that is parent/teacher interview night at his school. I never appreciated how hard these can be on a teacher until I ended up married to one - how do you tell a parent that their child is going swimmingly in classes, but something really needs to be done about the way they keep taking their clothes off and running around the oval? Tricky, very tricky.
Monday, September 10, 2007
The last two weeks part 1
I know I've been offline for a while - the hamster that powers my modem died and I felt a proper period of mourning should be observed before I fired the internet back up again. Have also been a little busy observing various traditions such as father's day, lying on my bed occasionally wondering why I have children and hunting through my cupboards for anything that vaguely resembles vodka. Yes, it's been one of those fortnights.
To start off, father's day this year was a cracker. The kids bought Tim a greenhouse and we spent some of the morning wrestling the bloody thing out of its packaging, which progressed to sitting on the back step with cups of coffee looking at it and trying to decipher the instructions on how to put it together (the kids by this stage had abandoned us but were shouting helpful advice from the trampoline) and then finally we left it in a great big pile in the backyard and trooped off to have brunch/lunch with my parents at a local park. It was a beautiful day - sunny, light breeze and there was enough room in the park for the 100s of people out HAVING A GOOD TIME WITH THEIR DAD (whether they wanted to or not). The park is quite nice too, but due to the drought they have had to drain all of the ponds so there were a number of fraught parents trying to ensure that instead of their kids falling in the pond and getting wet, that their kids didn't fall into a great, open pit and break their arms. It's what family time is all about, really. We ripped around, the kids ran themselves ragged and I found out a new fact - did you know that when a combination of apple juice and potato chips are sneezed into your hair by your 2 year old, it sets like concrete and takes quite some time to wash out? If you ever need to find something that will plaster your hair to your head and make sure it won't move, this is the combo for you. A little chunky and it looks like you have mutant head lice, but I can guarantee not a strand of hair will move.
Once I had de-chipped my hair, it was back to a normal week - school, work etc. Things were going fairly swimmingly until about Wednesday afternoon, when I got a phone call from the assistant principal at my children's school. Apparently, there had been an "incident" involving my middle son, another boy and some urine. Actual details of what led up to this "incident" are a little hazy, but it would seem that Cameron weed on the other boy "on purpose". The AP said he was a little "perplexed" by this behaviour and needed to know if this was something that had gone on at home!! I assured him that it wasn't, all the time wracking my brain to try and think of any incident that may have led to this behaviour - had my insistence on giving him veggies finally pushed him over the edge? Was it one too many screenings of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang? Is there a chapter in a parenting book I had skipped called "How to teach your children that weeing on other people is not nice"? In the end we all had to sit down and have a chat and the conclusion amongst the adults was that it was probably one of those "boy things" that got out of hand. That said, Cameron said sorry and I think everyone was ok. I was not reassured by my husband later that day, who told me that at that age, all boys do things like pee up the wall or out of the window, if the bathroom has one. I am now considering boarding up the windows in our bathrooms. It also bought back some wise words of advice from my - just because you can, doesn't mean you should. Or, in the immortal words of the great Australian movie "The Castle" - "get your hand off it, Daryl".
To start off, father's day this year was a cracker. The kids bought Tim a greenhouse and we spent some of the morning wrestling the bloody thing out of its packaging, which progressed to sitting on the back step with cups of coffee looking at it and trying to decipher the instructions on how to put it together (the kids by this stage had abandoned us but were shouting helpful advice from the trampoline) and then finally we left it in a great big pile in the backyard and trooped off to have brunch/lunch with my parents at a local park. It was a beautiful day - sunny, light breeze and there was enough room in the park for the 100s of people out HAVING A GOOD TIME WITH THEIR DAD (whether they wanted to or not). The park is quite nice too, but due to the drought they have had to drain all of the ponds so there were a number of fraught parents trying to ensure that instead of their kids falling in the pond and getting wet, that their kids didn't fall into a great, open pit and break their arms. It's what family time is all about, really. We ripped around, the kids ran themselves ragged and I found out a new fact - did you know that when a combination of apple juice and potato chips are sneezed into your hair by your 2 year old, it sets like concrete and takes quite some time to wash out? If you ever need to find something that will plaster your hair to your head and make sure it won't move, this is the combo for you. A little chunky and it looks like you have mutant head lice, but I can guarantee not a strand of hair will move.
Once I had de-chipped my hair, it was back to a normal week - school, work etc. Things were going fairly swimmingly until about Wednesday afternoon, when I got a phone call from the assistant principal at my children's school. Apparently, there had been an "incident" involving my middle son, another boy and some urine. Actual details of what led up to this "incident" are a little hazy, but it would seem that Cameron weed on the other boy "on purpose". The AP said he was a little "perplexed" by this behaviour and needed to know if this was something that had gone on at home!! I assured him that it wasn't, all the time wracking my brain to try and think of any incident that may have led to this behaviour - had my insistence on giving him veggies finally pushed him over the edge? Was it one too many screenings of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang? Is there a chapter in a parenting book I had skipped called "How to teach your children that weeing on other people is not nice"? In the end we all had to sit down and have a chat and the conclusion amongst the adults was that it was probably one of those "boy things" that got out of hand. That said, Cameron said sorry and I think everyone was ok. I was not reassured by my husband later that day, who told me that at that age, all boys do things like pee up the wall or out of the window, if the bathroom has one. I am now considering boarding up the windows in our bathrooms. It also bought back some wise words of advice from my - just because you can, doesn't mean you should. Or, in the immortal words of the great Australian movie "The Castle" - "get your hand off it, Daryl".
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