C is for CLUB.

Did you know, I belong to a very exclusive club ? -- the membership is strictly limited and there are hideous and painful penalties for anyone else trying to join.

I guess it's not all that secret, because a lot of people know about it, but there is Secret Business that goes on, code words and meetings, a secret knock, and other stuff that I can't tell you about. There's a lot of sacrifice and offerings, some of them unfortunately burnt.
One of us even wears an apron, but, sadly, it has no jewels on it. Just polka dots.

We had to undergo an Initiation Ceremony, to join the club, and now we get to wear Secret Club Rings. They're plain gold, but kinda cool because there are secret words engraved on the inside of the bands.

We have a Supreme Leader, who makes all the Big Decisions, and then there's me.... I keep the clubhouse operating, and I'm in charge of a fair amount of purchasing as well.
And that's it. A Secret Club of just two. Exclusive and inclusive, one and the same.

when you're a mum, you take your happies where you can.

I realised this past week that my kids are all old enough to take tablets (or capsules) now.
No longer do I need to panic when the liquid Panadol or Nurofen runs out.

This may not seem like much to you, but it's a milestone for me.

(Why, yes, I DO lead a very quiet, uneventful life, as a matter of fact, thanks for asking)

They also no longer want Happy Meals, which means we are slowly (but surely) emptying the house of McToys.

Again, might not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but I'm LOVIN it.

I remember being almost delirious with joy when they all finally got big enough to get in and out of the car themselves, and take care of their own seatbelts.

I am thrilled that I no longer have to struggle with putting on Small Persons' shoes (although the Shoe Battle is far from over.)

They can get their own drinks of water and make a sandwich (can't seem to put anything away yet, I've noticed) and they can run a DVD better than I can.

Bit by bit.

b is for .....

.... bodies.

This post has been percolating in my head for a week, or more -- and what led to it was swimming lessons.

There I was, at the pool, doing VacSwim, surrounded by tweens in bikinis and boys in boardies, and in the middle of the crowd was a gorgeous girl, looks to be somewhere between 12 and 14 (I can tell with certainty anymore), wearing a full swimming costume.

I mean, ankle length leggings, and a long-sleeved dress-type top. Clearly it IS a swimming costume, just not the kind you would normally see (at least, not here).

And it got me to thinking, along two different lines.

Firstly, I'm not a fan of this look:

My daughter won't be wearing a bikini while she lives under my roof, and luckily at this point she's CHOOSING shorts and rashies (she's 8) rather than skimpy bathers.

It seems to be that many bathers are designed to point out the tiny areas they're covering, rather than offer any kind of female modesty or dignity, but as long as it's not MY daughter, parading her bits, I remain only slightly disguntled by the whole thing.

But this?

Bothered me.

I have friends who are Indian. I know many Indians are shocked at the 'looseness' of Australian women. They are quite disgusted by Western clothing and choose to dress more modestly, and I understand and appreciate their point of view.

I also know that some cultures dress their women in baggy, hot, ugly clothing as a form of imprisonment, and don't be rolling your eyes, because it's true.
They (the men in charge) believe that all men are rapists and savages, and that women will fall or allow themselves to be tripped at the slightest provocation.

I think it's sad (and worse) that they have such a dim view of Western men, because I truly believe that most men don't think about raping and pillaging the first available woman much at all.
Most men don't walk around with a permanent hard-on, looking for an excuse.
Most men will ogle a pretty girl in a bikini, or a pair of jeans, or even a black sack if they can see her face -- but that's because their brains are hard-wired to notice women.
It doesn't mean they're going to tear off her clothes and have her on the spot.

While this post was getting ready to be typed, I came across this on Facebook.

It added to my confusion.

Are covered women being modest? or imprisoned?

What do YOU think?

a is for....

In an effort to kick my blogs' poor dead carcass back into life, I thought I might try and do a weekly challenge.

And then, because there are 26 letters in the alphabet, and 26 weeks would give me a neat and tidy 6 months of posts, I thought I'd make it an alphabet challenge.

So the idea is that I'm going to find a topic, and post about it.

And if you'd like to join in, you would be most welcome. All you have to do is link your post back to the comments section. No Linky, even.
{and I would SO appreciate it, I really would}

To start the first week of the new year, I'm going to be totally obvious and kick off with A.
Specifically,

a is for alcohol.

Here's something you may or may not know about me.
I grew up with a dad who drank heavily.
And not nicely.

My earliest memory of him is of an old lady asking my sister and I where Daddy was, and we answered "At the pub." (he was at work)

Many of my memories of him involve drunken fights, smashed furniture, cruel words, careless behaviour.... once I watched with my heart in my mouth as he tottered along a dam wall with my baby brother in his arms, certain he would drop his bundle in more ways than one.

There are things that happened in our house that I cannot speak about to anyone but my sisters. If you haven't lived it, you can't imagine the scars it has left on us all.

We (my sisters and I) all enjoy a drink. As teenagers, we did some silly things, but we grew out of that pretty quickly.
We saw so much and lived such weird lives that we could have had problems with alcohol, but we don't.
And that's not because we're special, or because we did some you-beaut counselling course, or whatever -- we are all just lucky.

We are all married to men who enjoy a drink. But our husbands drink sensibly as well, and we have never had to endure the things my mum did.


My dad completely quit drinking about 17 years ago.

Recently, he started having a nip or two of an evening. When my sister told me, my blood ran cold, and she told me she felt the same. Neither of us has forgotten.

Alcohol is the Boss of too many people, and you don't have to be an alcoholic for it to affect you.

I worry about kids today. The binge drinking I see, the schoolies parties, the expectation that social events are all about getting as smashed as possible, as fast as possible...
how have they gotten the idea that's OK? are we failing as a society? or as individual parents?

here's to 2013

Fabio and I packed up the kids, the crab scoop, a bottle of Bollinger, and two champagne flutes, and wandered across the road to the beach tonight.

(Somewhat poignant, as the house has been sold, and we have no idea where we'll be this time next year, or even next month. It's been utterly magical, living here for the last two 1/2 years, and I am sad that we could never get the money together to buy the house ourselves.)

We sat on the beach and watched the sun go down, while the kids ran about, playing in the water and catching (and releasing) crabs, and we talked.

About where we want to see ourselves in a year, in 2 years, in 5, in 10. About where we're heading, and how we need to prioritise.

I don't want to sound like a dick, but we have employees to worry about, and we plan for their futures, as well as our own. It's good to stop every year, and think about what you're doing, and why.

We agree that we are very blessed to have each other, and to have the chance at the life we have (and the one we want).

In thinking over our blessings, that we enjoy good health, wonderful kids, special loved ones, freedom, and freedom from real need, we wish the same for you in the coming year -- that your problems be small ones, or at least that you be given the power to overcome them; that you and all the people you love be kept safe; and that you be given all that you need to be who you are and to make a difference in this world.

Make this year count.

merry Christmas

*insert standard Christmas message*

But you know what? I really mean it. I really do hope you have a lovely Christmas, surrounded by your loved ones. That you eat too much, and maybe drink a little too much, that you play backyard cricket with the kids or laze around in front of the fire, playing Monopoly. I hope your day is filled with love and joy and peace.

I hope you stay safe, and that everyone you know stays safe, and that you get some nice gifts, and that you are able to enjoy giving as well.

Merry Christmas.

Christmas cupcakes

I'm in the process of making a very cool gift for my boys -- Fabio, Mr 19, and Mr 11 -- but I can't tell you about that because I know 2 of them read my blog.
What I can tell you is that it's kind of like a weird stocking -- a box filled with goodies. (no, not a hamper. Well, not the usual kind of hamper, anyway!)

I've been racking my brains trying to think of something similar to do for my daughter, and while grocery shopping, I had an epiphany (not what usually happens while I'm grocery shopping, trust me!)

I collected a nice basket, some cupcake mixes, a pretty apron and oven mitt, and some cupcake decorations.

TADAH!

My Princess will love this. She adores cupcakes and still enjoys cooking with Mum, plus she's almost 8 so mostly all I have to do is make sure she's not eating all the mixture, and help her fill the paper cases.

I wanted to put in some of her own cooking utensils too, but she has a birthday coming up in January, so I might add to the hamper then.

Anyway, I thought this is a good solution for pretty much anyone -- because, who doesn't love a cupcake?

twelve years

Twelve years ago, I was having coffee with my dad, on my wedding day, and watching my sister faff about with hair curlers.

It was a good day.

We got married on the beach, in the afternoon, and Fabio drove us both down to the wedding in his banged-up ute, so we were there to greet guests as they arrived.

We had no attendants, no music, no bouquets. In my hair, I wore flowers from my friend Jenis' garden, and my dress was red.

When the pastor said 'man and wife" I yelled "WOOHOOOO!" and threw myself on my brand-new husband. (very unseemly bride behaviour)

We kissed a lot. (that hasn't changed)

Every day since then has been The Best Day. Sure, we've had some hard times -- kid trouble, money worries, work problems, miscarriages and bothersome pregnancies -- but our marriage is a joy and a rock for both of us.

Happy anniversary, my heart. I love you to the stars and back. XXX

the Christmas Feast

Like any sane parent, I normally avoid taking the kids shopping, but yesterday was Shopping Day and it didn't happen like it was meant to as I had my poor little girl home vomiting.

So we ventured out today, and it wasn't *too* bad -- I went in with a short list and came out with a full trolley, but I often do that.
I told the kids I would have to sell one of them to pay for the groceries, and they would have to decide which kid it would be, and that kept them amused (along with other shoppers in the checkout line) for quite a while, till they decided that they would both stay and I would have to wash dishes out the back of Woollies.

I noticed a number of Christmas items on sale, so I grabbed a pav (yes, I know I should be making one) and a frozen turkey roll. We've only just started having turkey at Christmas, and we get the rolls for convenience. They're pretty yum!!

Our menu is mostly the same, year after year. A baked ham (glazed or crusted), turkey, potato salad, green salad, watermelon salad, gazpacho for me, and a selection of desserts which always always includes Christmas Pud and Brandy Custard.

Fabio and I had a talk the other day about they way we usually do Christmas -- which is, presents, then brekky, then a mad rush of cooking to get lunch on the table.

I asked him if we would mind instead doing presents, then brunch, then an early Christmas dinner at about 6 or so. And that's what we're going to trial.
I'm hoping it means I get to relax a bit and enjoy the day, instead of constantly stressing.

What do you do? lunch or dinner? big family get-together or quiet at-home? is your day relaxed or stressed?