Ahhh I just looked back at my old blogs. What was I thinking when I wrote that list. I know actually exactly what I was thinking - new start, let's make it happen, rah, rah, poms waving hip hip hurrah!
Right the only thing that works on the list is remembering to breath. I've almost got that down pat - can I count that a success?
I'm going to spend the next few days working out a list that actually makes sense.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Living with my children
I have decided that officially either I'm a bad parent or my children are quite nutty. Perhaps it is a combination of both!
Let me start with the sixteen year old son, delightfully intelligent but absolutely and without a doubt a fruitloop. He has decided to have a second childhood about three or four decades to early. His father and I mistakenly allowed him to come out with us the other afternoon and we stumbled upon an ant farm set up at the local Aldi outlet. OMG as my preteen daughter would say. There was then relentless nagging for the next week as the teenage child insisted that only an Antosphere would make his life complete. Now I will admit this ant adventure didnt' require batteries and there was no amount of electricity involved which seemed a plus but an ant farm - good grief. After convincing his doting grandmother that this ant extravaganza was essential to his wellbeing, we proceeded to lurch back to Aldi to pick up the said Antosphere. Now this is no mere piece of retangular plastic but rather a complete kit of little spheres which interconnect with plastic tubing, something I'm sure NASA is quite envious of and can't wait to use on its next planetary mission. So after setting up across half our back verandah, teenage child went in search of a group of ants who would like to volunteer to live inside his ant kingdom. With no ants waving feelers in his direction he resorted to the next best strategy digging up an ant mound and piling the ants with the use of tweezers in a plastic container to then be released into their new home. Over the last few days more ants have moved into the new abode and gradually seem to making the place a home. Teenage son has wasted many a moment watching his new pets scurrying from tube to tube. Yes, I will confess even I have sucumbed to sitting staring aimlessly into the Antosphere. I'm just not sure what we will do with the massive ant structure when we, I mean he, loses interest in it.
Leaving the teenager alone for a moment we move on to my second parental failure the preteen daughter, only 8 months out from being a dreaded teen. She has hit the holidays with a rather unfortunate addiction problem to musicals. It all began with Glee but has been extended to include several episodes of the old television series of Fame. She is relentless in her need to watch an episode and then just one more episode. She no longer talks but sings her way around the house and we can't just walk but rather must twirl, prance and spin our way from place to place. If I dare as I did today mention that perhaps she is an addict, I'm informed that really it is my fault after all I bought her the DVDs and I, the responsible parent, did let her watch them. Bummer she does have a point.
So it does appear to all come back to me even though I'm sure if I look hard enough at the gene pool on my husband's side of the family I could find someone else to blame.
Let me start with the sixteen year old son, delightfully intelligent but absolutely and without a doubt a fruitloop. He has decided to have a second childhood about three or four decades to early. His father and I mistakenly allowed him to come out with us the other afternoon and we stumbled upon an ant farm set up at the local Aldi outlet. OMG as my preteen daughter would say. There was then relentless nagging for the next week as the teenage child insisted that only an Antosphere would make his life complete. Now I will admit this ant adventure didnt' require batteries and there was no amount of electricity involved which seemed a plus but an ant farm - good grief. After convincing his doting grandmother that this ant extravaganza was essential to his wellbeing, we proceeded to lurch back to Aldi to pick up the said Antosphere. Now this is no mere piece of retangular plastic but rather a complete kit of little spheres which interconnect with plastic tubing, something I'm sure NASA is quite envious of and can't wait to use on its next planetary mission. So after setting up across half our back verandah, teenage child went in search of a group of ants who would like to volunteer to live inside his ant kingdom. With no ants waving feelers in his direction he resorted to the next best strategy digging up an ant mound and piling the ants with the use of tweezers in a plastic container to then be released into their new home. Over the last few days more ants have moved into the new abode and gradually seem to making the place a home. Teenage son has wasted many a moment watching his new pets scurrying from tube to tube. Yes, I will confess even I have sucumbed to sitting staring aimlessly into the Antosphere. I'm just not sure what we will do with the massive ant structure when we, I mean he, loses interest in it.
Leaving the teenager alone for a moment we move on to my second parental failure the preteen daughter, only 8 months out from being a dreaded teen. She has hit the holidays with a rather unfortunate addiction problem to musicals. It all began with Glee but has been extended to include several episodes of the old television series of Fame. She is relentless in her need to watch an episode and then just one more episode. She no longer talks but sings her way around the house and we can't just walk but rather must twirl, prance and spin our way from place to place. If I dare as I did today mention that perhaps she is an addict, I'm informed that really it is my fault after all I bought her the DVDs and I, the responsible parent, did let her watch them. Bummer she does have a point.
So it does appear to all come back to me even though I'm sure if I look hard enough at the gene pool on my husband's side of the family I could find someone else to blame.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
List One.
By May 16 I wish to achieve the following:
1. Write a short story every week
2. Drink no alcohol
3. Lose 12 kilos
4. Do some form of exercise every day - walk, gym or aqua aerobics.
5. Save 20 dollars a fortnight (just because)
6. Try something new each week - anything from a food, recipe, activity - just something new.
7. Stay on top of my work - do not get stressed by my work environment.
8. Find things to like about myself.
9. Enjoy my family
10. Remember to breath.
1. Write a short story every week
2. Drink no alcohol
3. Lose 12 kilos
4. Do some form of exercise every day - walk, gym or aqua aerobics.
5. Save 20 dollars a fortnight (just because)
6. Try something new each week - anything from a food, recipe, activity - just something new.
7. Stay on top of my work - do not get stressed by my work environment.
8. Find things to like about myself.
9. Enjoy my family
10. Remember to breath.
Impulse!
I'm forty-four and still have not learnt the valuable lesson in life, do not do things on impulse unless you are happy with the consequences.
I cut my hair yesterday and now stare into the mirror wondering if it is possible to will hair to grow or if there is some magical way to stretch my hair (I blame Harry Potter for that.) Yes, I succumbed yesterday to that terrible urge to have an instant haircut. I had to have it done then, there, right at that moment or my life would not be worth going on living.
Now in all truth there was some merit to the haircut idea. I had put a light brown colour in my hair to cover up a slight problem with foils which started as purple but had faded for some bizarre reason to green. (Mould colour is not a good look on bread or hair) Unfortunately the colour had not been strong enough to really cover up the mould so it was just interesting looking and that's being polite. So really my hair need a good removal in order for it to look less problematic. So this is where it gets more complicated. My hairdresser of four odd years was not available for an appointment. I decided this meant I really need to get rid of my hair today.
Yes, I did it, I went to an unknown person on the spur of the moment at the end of the day. Apparently I was not entirely clear in my explanation of my desire to keep some of my hair on my head despite a photograph that demonstrated the style I was aiming for. Before long my hair was on the floor and I didn't seem to even have much of a fringe. Ah well they say there is only a week or two between a good haircut and a bad one. However that can be a long time when the bad haircut in on your own head.
My family started out with the 'oh that's an interesting haircut' to eventually resorting to ' that's not one of your better ones'. Not very reassuring at all. Then I realised just to really annoy me my haircut does not match on each side which is not an issue if you are aiming for a funky haircut that's asymmetrical but I don't think that is quite what I have.
Still there is worse in life then a bad haircut. I only have to log on a computer and see half a dozen news headlines and recognise that my reflection in the mirror is pretty minor in the scheme of life. And I do have to remember that my hair is the result of choices I made over the last few weeks - no one made me do it. (I would so like to say it was someone else in my body that made me do it but it just wouldn't cut it)
So now I sit at 12.30 at night pondering the meaning of life and the value of a good haircut for the soul. Perhaps I should be looking up the word impulse and reminding myself that patience is a good skill to practice... It is going to be a long night and a longer couple of weeks.
I cut my hair yesterday and now stare into the mirror wondering if it is possible to will hair to grow or if there is some magical way to stretch my hair (I blame Harry Potter for that.) Yes, I succumbed yesterday to that terrible urge to have an instant haircut. I had to have it done then, there, right at that moment or my life would not be worth going on living.
Now in all truth there was some merit to the haircut idea. I had put a light brown colour in my hair to cover up a slight problem with foils which started as purple but had faded for some bizarre reason to green. (Mould colour is not a good look on bread or hair) Unfortunately the colour had not been strong enough to really cover up the mould so it was just interesting looking and that's being polite. So really my hair need a good removal in order for it to look less problematic. So this is where it gets more complicated. My hairdresser of four odd years was not available for an appointment. I decided this meant I really need to get rid of my hair today.
Yes, I did it, I went to an unknown person on the spur of the moment at the end of the day. Apparently I was not entirely clear in my explanation of my desire to keep some of my hair on my head despite a photograph that demonstrated the style I was aiming for. Before long my hair was on the floor and I didn't seem to even have much of a fringe. Ah well they say there is only a week or two between a good haircut and a bad one. However that can be a long time when the bad haircut in on your own head.
My family started out with the 'oh that's an interesting haircut' to eventually resorting to ' that's not one of your better ones'. Not very reassuring at all. Then I realised just to really annoy me my haircut does not match on each side which is not an issue if you are aiming for a funky haircut that's asymmetrical but I don't think that is quite what I have.
Still there is worse in life then a bad haircut. I only have to log on a computer and see half a dozen news headlines and recognise that my reflection in the mirror is pretty minor in the scheme of life. And I do have to remember that my hair is the result of choices I made over the last few weeks - no one made me do it. (I would so like to say it was someone else in my body that made me do it but it just wouldn't cut it)
So now I sit at 12.30 at night pondering the meaning of life and the value of a good haircut for the soul. Perhaps I should be looking up the word impulse and reminding myself that patience is a good skill to practice... It is going to be a long night and a longer couple of weeks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)