This Mid 30s Life

The Picture Tells The Story

2013-02-28T09:40:00.000Z

If you're a long-term reader (and therefore a cultural and intellectual giant... oh hang on...), you'll know that my computer was on the verge of collapse. Every time I switched it on it would look at me, go with me on this, and say, "I just want to die in peace... stop tapping me. Ouch."

Unsurprisingly, the 3 month boat trip to Australia finished it off. Farewell, prehistoric desktop computer circa 2002. You were certainly useful. And slightly too big.

I'm very pleased to say I backed everything up - which is so not like me - so hoorah!

Anyway now we have a new computer and I'm starting over. I'm actually going to have files and folders with names that mean something, instead of "Misc, Flowers, Singapore 2004" and "Generally Oldish Things." It's amazing how much more organised I feel just by having it in my house.** All my photos will be categorised and documents filed. See? I sound organised already. Actually I was just going through some photos, grouping them into folders actually, when I found this:

It took me a while to remember taking this. You'll never guess what this is. Ready?

This, my cyber-web-savvy-friends, is my bag of essentials I had packed during the bushfires in January. Yup. Should we have to suddenly evacuate to a safe area, this trusty hessian bag and its contents are what I had deemed The Most Important Belongings Of Them All. All that stuff I was saying about me being organised? Scrap it.

This is what is inside the bag:

1 x stuffed giraffe
2 x teddy bears
1 x Wenlock or Mandeville (UK readers will know what I am talking about)
Sunscreen
Passports
2 x small childrens quilts
Various children's books

I remember putting this together and thinking this was the worse evacuation pack ever. Where are the essentials? Where are the things that, should we lose the house, we would cry over?

So I packed my GHD. In my defence though, I knew this was stupid at the time.

Also I do have to say that when this was happening, most of our possessions were still on the boat coming from the UK. I wonder what I would have packed otherwise?

Thankfully, there were no fires near us this year. We only had one day of an extreme alert so we prepared the house, packed a bag, decided on a plan - we live right beside national park and it's the price we pay for doing so. There hasn't been a major blaze in this area for 70 years - apparently that's a good thing, I'm not sure. Anyway, I'm very grateful we needn't have worried but, as is the case every summer in Australia, I'm acutely aware others did.

So this has me wondering - what are your evacuation essentials? Please say a hair straightener. Then I won't feel so stupid.

Wow, I really have digressed haven't I? Hello blog. I'm back!

**If you are reading this and you have seen my house recently, I agree. It does not look like an organised person lives here. But some literary freedom is allowed here because it's my blog. X

It's February 2013. What the...?!

2013-02-13T10:38:00.002Z

Hmmm. Call me daft, call me old, call me both daft and old... but how on earth is it February already?? How??

Please excuse my absence. My computer is broken and I've discovered iPads aren't in love with Blogger. Speaking of broken, our things finally arrived from England after three months. This would be great news except that there was some kind of mishap on the way and nine of our boxes were waterlogged. Woo! Oh how we laughed. So we've had the usual just-moved-house sea of boxes all over the place, with the added joy of mouldy, smelly items and insurance assessors called Tony.

Did I mention the computer is broken?

Anyway, somewhere during all this I saw an ad for a job I really, really wanted. I didn't completely stuff up the interviews (**pats self on back... wonders when did back become so flabby**) and now I'm back at work. I treasure my time as a stay-at-home mother and I think knowing it was always temporary made it more special. I won't say getting back into work is easy after a few years at home, in fact I could write a lot more on it. But I love the job and I think in the long term it's a good thing for our family. It's a good feeling.

We're loving being back in Australia. Our son now says "bucket / pocket / cricket" like an Aussie and it makes me chuckle. And yesterday when it was going to be 22 degrees I grabbed our jumpers thinking 22 degrees is a cold day. Ha! It's like we were never away.

Oh, and a friend has lent me The Tudors on DVD. Where have I been??? I had no idea Henry VIII was such a hottie, and didn't they all have remarkably good teeth? If you haven't seen it, basically they just bitch about the Pope and shag each other, with each sexual encounter commencing with the man slowly running his hand up the woman's thigh.

Anyway, that's me right now. When I get a new computer I'll be sure to write some more.

By the way, how are you?

Shallow Resolutions

2013-01-03T03:20:00.001Z

So, it turns out "have tidy shelves" is not an acceptable New Years resolution. Not according to my husband, anyway.

Oh Sydney, I love you but you're a bit of a tart.

Nor is, what I thought was a goody, "mop the floor from time to time."

I toyed with "get the dining table fixed after 11 years" - in fact I even got a quote. For $6,000.... no, not a typo... I would want a lot more to show for it than one pissy wooden table. I would want at least twenty pissy wooden tables, thank you very much.

So our "colonial Australian" cedar table will keep its massive crevice through the middle. It sure is a hoot when dinner guests lose their meals to it. Many a wine glass has been smashed owing to this wonky table, and if I was feeling optimistic I'd say it's part if its charm. Instead I'll just say that it's broken.

I do quite like "get rid of the festy 90s feature wall which I had absolutely nothing to do with." Basically, some genius built a chipboard wall in our lounge room and then painted it "red wine." It was perfectly fine for them, they sold the house to us so we are the suckers living with this massive blood clot in our home.

I am desperate to get rid of it but its power points keep me from taking to it with a hammer. Electrocution with some amateur demolition, anyone? One day I will get a cabinet maker in to build a decent room divider, but that is dependant on a lottery win, easy! Until then it's Old Chipboard.

Anyway I have finally decided enough is enough, and I started painting it last night. Our new colour? Pavlova. It was a toss-up between that, Damascus Cream, White Cliffs, Peaceful Bay or Smoked Oyster. If I had to choose a paint name for myself, for no particular reason, I'd go with Hello Sailor.

But back to resolutions. How NOT rock'n'roll am I? Even when I try to come up with a more impressive resolution, one that doesn't read like a to-to list, I falter. Store wine correctly? Keep shoes in those clear boxes so I can see them easily? Not shout so much? Iron? Own more than one belt? Start drinking beer from a glass not a bottle? Stop nagging my husband (although I call it "reminding")? Join a book club? Be able to jog more than 4km in Sydney (so sweaty! Such thirsty work! There is no hiding the wobble in these little summer clothes!)? Install a bird bath in the garden in a bid to teach the children about our native fauna? Use words like "fauna?"

Shop for seasonal produce with a wicker basket? Learn how to fill my tyres with air instead of just kicking them with my hands in my pockets? Make jams and preserves? Stop at just one chocolate? Or two? OK, three. Top up my superannuation? (Ha! Haha haaaaaa!!!) Wear one of those wrap-around aprons while baking, so I look like the main character in Bridesmaids? Blog more?

I know, I know, not very deep or life changing are they.

I think I'll go for "be more patient". I have felt every last inch of patience desert me over the last couple of months. I want it back.

And there is nothing to test my patience like the two more coats of pavlova paint I need to do to this bloody wall.

Happy new year to each and every one of you! If you loved 2012 I hope 2013 is even better. If you'd rather forget last year, fingers crossed this is the year for you - enjoy!

Thank you for checking in and I hope you stay with me this year.

Marriage Advice

2012-12-17T11:23:00.000Z

Today is our seventh wedding anniversary. We don't usually go crazy for anniversaries but today we went all out. We did lunch. Fancy lunch. I nicked a photo of the cafe from their website so I can show you - it's a shame you can't see the view. Or the perfectly manicured women... seriously, I have never seen so many designer sunglasses perched on such glossy hair.

www.burntorange.com.au
I'd include a wedding photo but they are on my PC which is on a big ship somewhere.

Today has got me thinking about marriage. What makes a good one? I know taking marriage advice from someone with just seven years under their belt is wrong. Like when people pronounce the "h" in "white" because they think it's posh - wrong. But it's something I am interested in, plus it's my blog. So here we go. It's not an exhaustive list, by the way. I'm hoping you can add to it.

Rule number 1 for a happy marriage
Don't marry a dickhead. If he gets into fights, deliberately ignores your birthday, kicks puppies, sings "Jelly On A Plate" when you're walking around naked - these are warning signs.

Rule number 2
Don't be a dickhead. We all have our moments, but recognise when you are being one and take immediate action. An apology is a good start.

Rule number 3
Buy a boat. Now I don't own a boat, in fact I don't even like them. But at my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary party my grandfather made a speech which included this advice:

I always say the secret to a good marriage is to have a boat. Then when she is nagging you all day, you can go out on your boat by yourself for some peace.

Cue awkward glances around the room as guests wondered if he was joking or not. He wasn't.

I include it here not because I think we should all go out and buy a boat. But there is something to be said for a bit of "me time." Not a lot, but a little bit, regularly.

Rule number 4
This one comes from my grandmother (her husband didn't have a boat, but he did have a very impressive shed). She always said never go to bed angry - and I think that's good advice. She also had a theory that you should always sleep together because it's really hard to stay mad at someone you are sharing a doona / duvet with.

Rule number 5
Encourage and support your partners' friendships. Good friends add such richness to your life, but when things are busy most of us need a nudge from time to time. Unless you think they are dickheads (see rule number 1).

Rule number 6
I don't think marriage is meant to be hard. But that doesn't mean everything in life is meant to be easy. Savour that little nugget, for that is about as deep as I get.

Then again, don't take marriage advice from me. My husband just pulled up in the garage and I didn't even realise he'd gone out - and on our anniversary too.

But what I am really interested in are your comments. What advice have you received - and do you agree? What would your number one rule be?

A Change of Scenery

2012-12-16T11:32:00.001Z

Anyone there?

Got sick of checking in and seeing no new posts? Thought "Oooh doesn't she think she's all fancy, too busy to update her blog? And sooooo not a natural blonde."?

Well, if anyone is still there, and I've become rather fond of you since I started this site, I'd like to say hello.

From Sydney. Not London.

We are home.

First sight of Australia in 2.5 years.
I was having a moment when I took this - how beautiful is it??

I do find myself missing the UK, I'm a bit of a sook like that. But it's just wonderful being home. I absolutely love living here, there is nothing like being near family and old friends. Except for being near family and new friends... similar.

The move wasn't all smooth sailing. Ever been on a long haul flight with two vomiting children? Not something you care to repeat in a hurry, is it? Illness aside, the kids have been having a ball. It's all one big adventure, but they still have some adjusting to do. Then there have been the small, niggling things like... let me see... forgetting to tell the children what burrs look like. So they scurry off, sans shoes, then start screaming as they find themselves in a prickle patch. An excellent bit of parenting on my part.

And - oh my God - the third series of Downton Abbey has not even started yet. But I will rise to the challenge and roll with the punches. I will also be regurgitating other annoying cliches as I wake up and smell the coffee. See what I did there? Boom!

So now I'm not longer "an Australian mother of two living in London." Soon I won't be a stay-at-home mother... yes, it's time to get back to work. So there are plenty of changes at the moment.

I have had such fun writing this blog that I will definitely keep it going. I hope you haven't given up on me and buggered off.

That's all for now, but I'll leave you with a photo from our last few days in London. I love it, despite just noticing my husband looks a bit evil. In the picture, that is. Let it be known that my husband does not look evil in general.

Bye London. It's Been Fun.

2012-11-14T23:29:00.002Z

It's 11pm on our last night in the UK. I should be in bed but I'm nervous about the flight, so rather than not sleeping I am writing this. I'm not going to re-read it or try to make it pretty. So just excuse it and if it's terrible, well I'm tired so it's allowed.

Moving is just so emotional. The endless goodbyes, everywhere you go and whatever you do is a "last" and then there are the practical things that need organising. Hardly the stuff of a good belly laugh, is it?

I keep thinking of things I wish I had done. We didn't go to Wimbledon Common for a last hurrah. I know it isn't going anywhere but coming back and visiting when on holiday is not the same thing. I have been saying for years I want to ice-skate outside, well I have had every chance (even walked past an open rink today) and I still haven't done it. But that's me having a whinge - absolutely allowed before a big flight with small children, I say.

But I am proud of us, as a family. Can I say that? I'm proud that we picked up our lives, flew them to the other side of the world, plonked them down and had a ball. We did it. I'm not saying every day was beer and skittles, that's not possible, in fact some days stank. Just as they would have done anywhere. But on the whole, we have had a fantastic time and I am sorry to be leaving. But I'm excited about getting back.

To anyone living in Southfields can I just say, it is a gem of a place. Please love it and appreciate it as someone who only got to live there for a brief time.

Although I am quite happy to leave our maroon bathroom behind, with it's ridiculous number of plungers beside the loo. Urgh.

But just around the corner we will have "firsts." Our goodbye will be hellos. We are moving back to Sydney, where our children will have grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. I feel so lucky that of all the places in the world, it's Australia I get to go home to.

So goodbye UK. It has been a absolute privilege.

And Australia - here we come!!

Xxx

A New Toy in the House

2012-11-07T17:07:00.000Z

I don't like my childen playing computer games. I have my reasons, all hypocrital as I was once the Donkey Kong Junior master.

But with a flight from London to Sydney imminent, I'm relaxing my stance. OK, I am actively encouraging it.

My son has a Leapster Explorer and he loves it. Now that I'm paying more attention to it, I've got to say I'm impressed.

I'm not the only one who has been paying more attention. His little sister has too. And the fights have been something else. "My turn!" "My turn!" "My turn!" "My turn!" (Repeat x 1,000.) Pass the ear plugs. And the bottle. Actually, some Pringles would be good too.

A few weeks ago, my little girl asked for one for her 4th birthday. It would have been the perfect present - less fights and a great form of entertainment for the flight. But we said no because of the price.

The very next day I got an email asking if I'd like to review the Leapster GS Explorer by LeapFrog which is described as "the ultimate learning game system." What was that? What great timing? Why yes, clever kitten, it was.

Now, this is an upgrade from the Explorer. Like the Explorer, the children can sign in with their names and we adjust the settings so the learning is age appropriate. It's super sleek, and this is from someone who, until recently, thought an i-pad was an i-pod. It has an in-built camera and video recorder, and the kids love decorating the pictures they have taken and making their own albums. I predict we'll have a lengthy and very unique series of mementoes of our last few days in London.

But what my kids really, really love about the GS is the motion sensor. So rather than just using the controls to play a game, you also shake the whole thing about. This was quite the discovery in our house. I imagine Mrs Einstein felt much the same as I did.

What do I like about the Leapster GS Explorer?
My kids love it. I asked each of them why, several times in fact, and I haven't got beyond "I just LOVE IT!" and "it's the BEST!" but I'll keep trying.

It's one of those educational toys that's entertaining and fun. There are games to do with problem solving, science, reading, and then there are things on there just for a giggle. I can even input specific words into spelling games.

I have come around to computer games for my children, in the same way that I am happy for them to watch TV. Both are good in moderation. Have a play on your Leapster GS, then put it down and go kick a ball.

What don't I like about the Leapster GS Explorer?
The voice it uses. You know how some car GPSs give you the option of choosing the voice / accent you like? I wish this had it.

Also I don't like that it tells the child to ask your parents to download things for it. Kids take that literally and think it has to be done immediately. So I'll be cleaning the oven (or pretending to clean the oven) and one of the kids will run in, GS aloft, telling me to download more apps now! NOW! NOW!!!The answer is no! NO! NO!!!

Would I buy the Leapster GS Explorer?
At over £60, this is historically more than we would pay for a new toy. But it is suitable for children aged 4 - 9, giving it a longer shelf life than most toys.

Also, as your child develops new interests, there will most likely be an app or game for it. For example, my son is really into geography at the moment, so his aunt bought him the Globe Earth Adventures game. This is right up his street (although I have an issue with the teeny tiny fact that it says "everyone" in Australia lives on the coast. Ummmmm?).

This new toy has proved to be a real hit. They still fight though - they might have one Leapster each, but of course they want what the other one has.

What about you? Do your kids play computer games?

Sponsored post - I received the Leapster GS Explorer in return for an honest review.

There is Nothing Rock & Roll About This Post

2012-11-02T21:03:00.000Z

So, just quickly, tomorrow is my daughter's 4th birthday party. She wants a chocolate cake.

"Too easy!" I told her. "Aren't I the best mother in the world!" She agreed and threw her chubby arms around my neck.**

So I have spent the best part of the afternoon making a chocolate cake.

Now, maybe I was a bit distracted having the kids so enthusiastically help me with the task. Maybe I'm just a bit caught up in the move back to Oz. Or maybe, just maybe, I just f*cked up.

The cake came out of the oven looking like a brown pancake. Then I noticed two vital ingredients were still on the bench. I had left out butter and eggs.

But still - no problem! I'll just whip up another one and sandwich the two of them together with whipped cream! Because I'm brilliant and this whole birthday party thing is a cinch! Never mind that I meant to invite 5 friends and ended up with 15.... noooooo, that's absolutely not a problem. And two days before we move out of this house too. Easy peasy!

So I made another cake, turned it out onto the cooling rack...

.... and it fell apart. The damn f*cker just crumbled all over the counter.

Still, I thought, I'll just retrieve what I can and jigsaw it together as the top layer to the Cake With Key Ingredients Missing underneath.

I just went to whip the cream. And it turned into butter. Seriously. Right now, on my kitchen bench, there is a bowl with a big fat bloody lump of butter staring up at me. Mocking me. You can't even whip cream! You're a disgrace to your hand-held electric mixer!

Now I like butter as much as the next person, and a small part of me is somewhat congratulatory that I managed to make some with such ease.

But this is getting ridiculous.

Right - back to the kitchen.

**She told me I am stinky and ran away.

Right Now I'm...

2012-10-15T22:50:00.000+01:00

Reeling
... from Downton Abbey on Sunday. Was anyone expecting that???

Laughing
... at Miranda Hart. Funny, funny, funny girl.

Reading
... The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox by Maggie O'Farrell. I need to know what happens but I don't want this book to end. Do dilemmas come any bigger? I didn't think so.

Laughing Some More
... at this photo of my brother. He really does have a lot of thyme on his hands. Plus I love his shirt.

Cooking
... chicken and red lentil curry in my slow cooker. Is there any other kitchen appliance where such little effort is so well rewarded?

Freaking
... out at the number of mice in the house. Trap Resistant Mice. I bought some bait today so hopefully that does the trick. Until then, whenever I open a cupboard or rummage through a bag, my heart is in my mouth. Not literally. That would be both unlikely and unpleasant.

Thinking
... that a mouse infestation in the house is a bad time for my husband to be in the Middle East.

Eating
...Cheesy Wotsits. I'm making the most of our time left in the UK.

Hurting
... from my run today. I'm trying to get back into it but it's as though my body has never exercised before - it's that hard (as in "difficult" not as a description of my physique). Maybe I should listen to my body and sit down. I'm actually very good at sitting down, it's a gift.

Serving
... apple crumble. Lots and lots of apple crumble. I am certain this is the last time in my life I will have 3 apple trees in my garden.

Listening
... to the first album I have downloaded in a lifetime. It's called, wait for it, Now That's What I Call Running. How embarrassing.

Noticing
... my neck is going wobbly. It's a bit early for that isn't it? Isn't it??

Marvelling
... at the skydiver who broke the speed of sound. I love stories like this, of people pushing their limits so we can see what mankind is capable of. I did a similar thing recently when I made meringues out of golden caster sugar instead of regular caster sugar. Talk about adrenaline!

Wondering
... if I should change the look of this blog as the photo at the top is 3 years old. But then, to include a more recent photo will be to showcase my floppy neck. And that would be wrong. Hmmm.

Playing
... Monopoly with friends this Saturday night. Who says we don't rock? But you have to admit - friends, takeaway, beers and Monopoly is a good night. And who knows? I might win for the first time in my entire life.

Planning
... a birthday party for our soon-to-be 4 year old. I was meaning to only have 5 children coming and I have 14. I'm not sure how that happened.

Thanking
... whoever invented the internet that Facebook wasn't around when I was a teenager or in my twenties.

Faltering
... when trying to answer one of my 5 year old's questions. They're hard. And at the moment, very focused on geography which is not my strongest topic.

**Panics slightly when trying to think what my strongest topic actually is. Do I even have one? Shit!**

Dreading
... saying our goodbyes when we leave London.

Deciding
... which pub to go to on Thursday night. We have limited time to do these things, so it's a surprisingly big decision.

Dreaming
... of a proper Australian BBQ with all the family there. Heaven! Ooh, and regular ones thereafter - with friends too! Yay!

Over to you if you fancy it! Finish this sentence, "Right now I'm..."

Doing Modern Art

2012-10-11T21:12:00.000+01:00

Today we went to the Tate. I was nearly sick from hunger and I still managed to enjoy it. That, my loves, is saying something.

Here I am in the foyer looking arty. See what I did to the photo? See that? Yah. Artist.

In fact without planning it, I have had the perfect day. The kids were ready for school when I realised my husband was looking Day Off Scruffy. A day off!! So we went to the Tate together. Galleries are usually a solitary outing for me but when you go with someone the whole experience is entirely different. Good different, I might add. Unless you are stuck entertaining a smelly and boring person which, happily, I was not doing today.

The thing about the Tate is, for me, the art is only half the point. I swear I can live in London for the rest of my life and not tire of its landmarks, and you'll see plenty of them on your way to the Tate. So just getting there is fun.

Then you go inside. Unsurprisingly, it being an art gallery and all, there is art. Lots and lots of art. Some will blow your socks off.

Some will make you go, "Bricks in rows on the floor? Are you shitting me?"

There will be times when you'll wonder if you are looking at part of the exhibition. Or are they renovating?

The Tanks are on the lower ground floor. At the moment this is where you can view live art. Now I don't pretend to know about such things, but you just go with it and see how it makes you feel. The first installation (arty word! Arty word!) was too creepy for me. If I was in a different mood I would have really enjoyed the second, but with my husband beside me I got the giggles and couldn't stop. While others sat and reflected, absorbing the sounds and sights, we rudely made our own piece of video art (using the word "art" loosely) which I'll share with you here. I promise it was Funny At The Time.

So there is the art, the architecture - but another huge part of a visit to the Tate is the people watching. The foreign students, the trendy and not-so-trendy, the serious fans writing about the art in proper notebooks, those who clearly aren't enjoying themselves and wondering why they went in the first place.

Listening to a guide.

I loved it.

We then went to one of my favourite restaurants for a boozy lunch. I loved that too. Not a bad way to spend a Thursday eh?

A painting all in black. Angst and despair?
Or did the artist just really like black?

Oh, and when I picked the kids up from school one of the mothers handed me a bag to take home. She thought we might like one of her amazing curries for dinner. Don't mind if I do! Hmmm I hope she doesn't think I'm some sort of charity case.

Ah well. I hope you've had a fab day too. X

I'm a City Girl Now

2012-09-27T10:53:00.001+01:00

I grew up in the country. I still consider myself a country girl... but the truth is, I've gone soft.

This is how I know I'm a city girl now:

1. Meat
I now eat meat that has been bought from the butchers. Further, in order to avoid having to physically prepare the meat myself, I ask my butcher to do that for me.

This is a huge departure from my childhood, when all our meat was killed and butchered by my father, grandfather and uncle - all butchering together in a love-fest of dead animal. The older kids would help by skinning the carcass, while the younger ones would play with the guts - such fun. If we were preparing poultry, there would be a big family feather-fest where we'd set ourselves up into stations for killing, gutting, cleaning, plucking... you know, an outdoors family abattoir.

Nowadays, if the children are with me at the butchers, the country side of me appears briefly. I gleefully tell the children that "that's the top part of a dead sheep's leg" and "that there is a dead cow's neck and it's lovely in stews." I exchange knowing looks with Tony, the butcher, in a see-my-kids-know-where-their-food comes-from way.

Yet on the inside, I'm thinking of the poor little fluffy-wuffy lamby-poo, leaping around a meadow and bleating in that soft little lamby-wamby way. Oh poor little cuddly-wuddly woolly lamby! But I'd never actually say that. I have to retain some semblance of country, even if it's all just for show.

I'm a soft, city girl.

2. Driving
From the age of ten, I drove tractors - often for many, many hours. I'm not saying I was any good at it. I often broke things, and if a few months went by without driving a tractor my Dad would have to teach me all over again.

Now? I can't even drive a manual car. I learnt on a manual. My first car was a manual. But I am so, so soft - so very city, that nooooooo I cannot deal with gears on any level. Automatic, please, just "forwards", "park" and "backwards" and that's all I can take.

I'm a soft, city girl.

3. Physical Activity
Living on a farm is a very physical life. You muster animals, you help in the shearing shed, you throw long syphons over channels and then manually start them up for irrigation (sorry if you have no idea what I am talking about)... to list a few things.

Now? Well, I jog. Not as often as I say I do, but still, I do. I don't run in the rain, because I'm a wuss, but I'll run in snow because it's pretty and it makes me feel like Rocky (did he ever do that?). I do housework but not with any vigour. I garden but in a half-arsed way, so I'll prune everything then just leave the clippings for the Garden Fairy.

I'm a soft, city girl.

4. Food
We had an orchard, we grew vegetables, we killed our meat, my grandfather milked cows... we ate really, really well. Sure, we bought food from the supermarket but that was a fair drive away. We had a huge fridge and a walk-in coolroom. We had a deep-freeze, as well as two enormous walk-in freezers which you really didn't want to get stuck in. My parents had to plan and prepare, there was no ducking to the shop to pick up some butter.

My fridge is only slightly bigger than my head. This is slightly annoying, but OK because I can walk to the shops in just a few minutes. Once there, I can buy any food I like. If I forget something, it's not a problem, I merely saunter down the road to pick it up.

I'm a soft, city girl.

5. Animals
I can't pretend to be tough here, snakes have always terrified me. But if I would see a snake, I would stand still and calmly let it pass. I knew to watch where it went. If it went in or near the house, I'd follow it so it couldn't get away - once you lost sight of it, you knew it would pop up later when you least expect it. Same if it stayed in the garden. Ignore this part if you're a snake lover, but the only good venomous snake in your house or garden is a dead one. So if you spotted the snake, it was your job to keep an eye on it so someone else could come and, ummm, send it to Snakey Heaven.

Mum, a city girl who moved to the country, with an unlucky snake.

Now? I see a snake in a zoo and I start to shake - there's no calm "let's make sure it doesn't get away" at all. I can't even think of them without my skin crawling. Same with spiders. We live in England where the animals really don't want to kill you. But when the kids call out "Mummy, look! We've found a lovely spider!" it takes a lot to stay calm and not want it dead.

I'm a soft, city girl.

6. Isolation
Don't even get me started on isolation. I can't handle it.

I really, really am a soft, city girl.

Getting Ready to Go Out

2012-09-20T17:27:00.000+01:00

I'm going out tonight. It's been far too long between pub visits so although I'm just going to our local, I am ridiculously excited.

Remember the days of "getting ready" to go out? Of taking a scented, candlelit bath before breaking out your best moisturiser? Taking your time to put an outfit together? Matching it with accessories then spending time on your makeup? Now I get ready with the kids bouncing on the bed going, "Mummy's getting fancy! Mummy's getting fancy!"

Anyway, this is what I predict will happen as I'm preparing to go out tonight:

HAIR
At the last minute, I will realise my hair needs a wash. Instead of washing it, I'll just scrape it into a ponytail - one of those horizontal ones because length isn't on my hair's side. I'll rough up the non-ponytail part of my hair so it doesn't have that slicked-back oily look, and hope I get away with it.

This look is the aim...
(www.jigsaw-online.com)

MAKEUP
I'll remember I really needed to change that lightbulb as I'm putting some makeup on. I will therefore be applying my makeup in the dark. I'll think I look OK, then, when I duck into the loo at the pub I will get one hell of a shock care of their mirror. It's also thanks to the bright lights in the pub loo that I'll remember I need to sort my eyebrows out. (Curly eyelashes = good, curly eyebrows = bad.)

... but this look is more the reality.
(I included this pic for the Aussies. "I said love, I said pet...")

CLOTHES
I will have no idea what to wear. I'll go through all my clothes which, individually, are perfectly fine but you can't step out in just a shirt, can you? You need to match it with something. This is why I love dresses, because I don't have to match them with anything except shoes. But the fact that it's no longer summer rules my dresses out.

My husband will walk in and I'll tell him I have absolutely no clothes. He'll gesture to the layers of clothes strewn across the bed, things that I've tried on and discarded, and tell me I'm being daft. I'll disagree and he'll walk out as I'm mid-sentence, shaking his head and muttering something about my clothes taking over his wardrobe.

I'll dig out my skinny clothes just in case I've lost 5 kilos without realising it and, surprise surprise, I have not lost 5 kilos without realising it. Damn.

I'll go to my "these need adjusting" clothes. These are made up of charity shop and e-bay finds - bits and bobs that were so dirt cheap I had to buy them. Such clothes make up a large part of my wardrobe. You see, that's the problem with buying second-hand clothes. They are so inexpensive that you don't care that they don't quite fit properly. So I have a stack of clothes that either need to be taken in, or the hem taken up, or something critical needs repairing. I just need to learn to sew, buy a sewing machine, spend a couple of days tailoring and I'll be sorted. (I've been saying this for the past 5 years.)

After trying everything on, I'll end up wearing the first thing I tried. A black top and jeans. Yawn.

I know these things will happen because they happen every time I go out. I'm nothing if not a creature of habit.

What's your going-out ritual?

Hello Strangers

2012-09-18T21:30:00.002+01:00

Sorry, sorry, sorry.... I kept thinking of things to blog about, then I wouldn't blog about them, then I'd think of something else and I didn't get around to writing about that, I'd start to blog about the first thing I'd thought of and it no longer worked, blah blah blah...

So I'm sorry for the empty silence. But it's nice, well OK it's very nice, being missed. So thank you for the messages and encouragement, even though if I'm being honest most of these were from you Mum.

It's been a big few weeks here. Biggish, anyway. Our little girl started full time nursery. The sight of her in a uniform and pigtails is really something else, then my son puts his little arm protectively around her shoulders and I melt. I'm full of love so much that it hurts.

Then my daughter breaks free from her brother, whacks me in the face and screams at me that I have to go to gaol. My crime? Having a three year old. Terrible twos be damned, in this house it's three that's the tricky age, and we are right in the thick of it. I know (I hope) it's a phase, and it's bad to wish life away, but can this phase stop please? She was so easy, so portable, when she was two.

She loves nursery though. Although her favourite part of the day is when I pick her up - she does love me after all!

A photo of me with both children willingly facing the camera.
A collector's item.

So now my two children are at school all day, five days a week. I'll never, ever have this time to myself ever again so I am relishing it. I've allowed myself two full days of tea and sloth (oh wow) and from tomorrow I will be a well-turned out stay-at-home mother with shiny hair and a freakishly clean house. For a few weeks, anyway. Then we move back to Australia, have a second summer holiday (the first didn't count, no offence Britain) and I go back to work - scary. Don't you love how I say that so confidently, as though I have a job to go back to?

So yes, we are planning our move back to Sydney (Tip! Don't ever move overseas! The planning sucks!) and it hurts my head. I don't like making decisions, lists kill me and for some reason when I have to be organised I get really, really tired. Anyone else find that? The Moving Gods are against us too - so many decisions are being thwarted it's like a constant brick wall in our faces.

We'll get there though. I'll be sure to thrill you with stories of boxes, bubble wrap and burly removalists I can't understand. You're excited aren't you? Happy I'm back?

Anyway it's good to be back. Thanks to those who kept checking in and thanks to you for coming back. You're tops. x

A Spot of Non-Blogging

2012-08-29T11:59:00.000+01:00

I'm back - but only to grovel and agree that yes, I've been very slack. I do have ideas for posts - honest - but they just haven't made it past that fleeting thought stage.

From the middle of September I will have 8 weeks of both children in full time school. I will have a super-clean house, proper meal plans, a body like GI Jane's and a kick-arse blog that has time dedicated to it. There won't be a site in London that hasn't been seen by moi. That's the plan anyway. In reality I might just bake cakes only to sit and eat them. Until then, I just want to say sorry I haven't been around, but really, who noticed?

Why just 8 weeks? Because we're moving back to Australia. Having your nearly-4 year old getting used to full-time school only to pull her out is not ideal, in fact I feel terrible about it. But it is the best option available to us. I've been explaining to her she'll have to keep her clothes on from 9am until 3pm but she isn't having any of it. That could be interesting. It must be nice just declaring "I want to be nude!" before shedding all your gear and skipping happily around. It's a shame we can't all do that without fear of arrest, although right now I have to say she must be freezing. I assure you I'm a responsible parent but there's only so long I can chase her around saying "Put this one! PUT THIS ON!"

I'm getting excited about moving back to Sydney. It's home. We'll be near our family and old friends. And it's nice not being foreign. I'm focusing on that and trying not to feel sad about leaving. But I'm too sentimental to love change, we have built ourselves a great life here, one that we always knew would be a short stint. And I always have, and always will, love London. Especially our little part of it.

What started as a "I'll blog soon" post has turned into more of a monologue, sorry kids. In the meantime, here is a photo of my very healthy (yay!) husband and kids. Because sometimes you just have to share.

Exploring the UK (Kind Of): Football

2012-08-19T17:29:00.001+01:00

To avoid confusion, when I say "football" I am talking about "soccer." Unless you already call it football, in which case just ignore this paragraph. Anyway we're talking round balls, people. Round.

To live in the UK and not go to a football games feels all kinds of wrong. I think if I had to pick a song for our time here, it would be the theme from Match of the Day. I've wanted to go for ages, and yesterday I finally did. For fifteen minutes.

I'm Australian and from a rugby family. Growing up, football was a game for immigrants and little kids. I did have a foray into football when at nine, I was the only girl in Wee Waa's (yes that's what my hometown is called) competition. The ball coming anywhere near me was terrifying, but I thought I did a good job of hiding it. Then one day, the coach stuck me in goal and told me to stop running away from the ball. Oh. My highlight of the whole experience was playing with glass all through my hair after shattering the windscreen with my head on the way into town - but that's another story.

Mine is a family who love watching rugby together. Dad would take us to Wallabies and Waratahs games, and I didn't even mind having to wear a battery-powered Wallabies beanie (that's a warm hat) with a big flashing Wallaby on the front. It was always good fun - great company, great crowd, great game.

But take a really good rugby crowd, give them an intravenous hit of triple espresso, stick a rocket under each seat, and you have a football crowd.

And I absolutely loved it.

Even getting the train there was fun. You feel like you're part of a club, which I suppose many of them are. I took my son, and it was a lot of effort not to play along by saying things like, "Yes, just taking my lad to a game... off side... goal... striker... world cup... the man from the crisps ads..." For that is all I know.

We were swept by the crowd to the stadium. People were so friendly, seriously, I lost count how many times people asked my boy if this was his first game. Once we got there I did the normal thing and bought a beer. In my world, you never ever watch a rugby game without a beer - it's like a movie without popcorn. Security took great pleasure in telling me off, for a second I thought he was joking, but when was the last time a security guard joked? I drank as much as I could behind the white line but knocking a warm beer back with my five year old felt wrong. Bye bye beer.

We took our seats right behind the goal posts and watched Fulham and Norwich warm up. Mark Schwarzer was practicing his saves (do we call them saves?) in front of us, we cheered Fulham on, and the whole thing was just fab. Three big blokes came and sat in front of us and immediately offered to swap seats so my little man could see. The ten minutes before the teams came out to play were palpable, the music was building up and up, the fans were on their feet, both sides were singing... then when the teams ran out it was incredible. I have never experienced anything like it. I tried to video it, it's a bit shaky and if you're really keen, I suggest you let it buffer first.

I have always liked football as a sport, but I didn't expect to love being there so much. I was sitting there trying to take it all in, when I looked down at my son. I thought he'd love it too. But he was sitting with his hands over his ears, tears streaming down his face. He has always been a little bit funny with loud noise, and this was just too much.

I tried to reason with him. I managed to bribe him into giving it five more minutes, honestly thinking he'd get into it. We stayed for as long as we could, but I couldn't ignore his tear-streaked face and him pulling on my sleeve desperate to go home. Our time was up.

But I'll go again.

An Update

2012-08-15T21:26:00.000+01:00

Some blogs really give you an insight into the person behind it. You get to know them, you know about their lives and you know exactly what's going on.

My blog is not like that. I'll write about my family from time to time, but I certainly don't document our everyday lives and my innermost thoughts here. But there's a lot going on at the moment. I touched on it here and now I'll elaborate.

My husband has been ill. He caught what we thought was the flu and then went steadily downhill. After two weeks, we knew it was serious so we tried to get him into hospital. On a Thursday, he asked the GP if he could be admitted and was sent home with an inhaler (gee, thanks). He continued to get worse. He went into hospital on the Saturday where he was immediately diagnosed with severe pneumonia.

It was all very bleak until the antibiotics started to work a few days later. He came home last Saturday. Yesterday's x-rays have shown he's going really well but he needs to take it easy for at least another three weeks.

Day 5 in hospital and getting better.
Modelling his nebuliser to celebrate he's no longer on oxygen.

They say it's all in the timing. Well - here is a man who has never had a day off work sick. He is a sports journalist, which means his busiest gig comes around every four years... yup.. for the Olympics. Our time in the UK has been organised purely around the Olympics, it's one of the main reasons why we are here. He was admitted to hospital on the first day of competition and didn't get to cover any of it.

Doesn't that just suck.

In the meantime, I got ill too. (I don't have pneumonia!)

Oooh that sucks as well. Excuse my language but that sucks arse.

Now, we are normally really positive people. Honestly. But when I don't feel well, I become one of those miseries who is easily annoyed and complains a lot. My husband, even when seriously ill, is still very positive. So I've promised him I'll up my game and shut up even though, I have to say, this is all about as fun as mucus. But in the meantime, humour me please, I see annoying stuff everywhere. Like, how annoying is my herb garden?

It's coriander.

And how come the top of our fridge always looks like this?

And what happened to my computer when I cleaned the keyboard?

How come he loses 7kg and I put on 3? That's annoying.

There is a bright side though. Firstly, things are getting better. Secondly, it's been absolutely amazing being on the receiving end of such incredible kindness. Our friends and family, both here and overseas, are wonderful people. I don't know where I'd be without them. It's a bummer it takes something so horrible to remind me of this, but maybe I needed it.

I'm not sure what to sign off with. I think it best if I hand it over to someone looking on the bright side of life... and whistling while they do it.

The New Online Efficiency Expert (?)

2012-08-13T12:59:00.000+01:00

Recently, Penny from aresidence wrote that she had been given a blogging assignment but needed a sidekick. I was chosen (yay!) but it had absolutely nothing to do with me telling the judge how wonderful he is.

British Gas have asked us to demonstrate online efficiency. Now before you snort at my clear lack of organisational skills, let me explain that yes it's a demonstration, but it's also a challenge. That makes more sense now, doesn't it? My part of the deal was to spend 5 days experimenting with saving time, money and hassle by carrying out easy tasks online.

I was sent an i-pad in return and now plan to pepper my conversations with "my i-pad...". Thankfully my sister was here when it arrived. Before you can say "no idea about technology" she had it switched on, linked with my email, Twitter and Facebook and with apps downloaded. So now I know what apps are.

So for five days, I've been using the internet to make everyday tasks easier. Did it work...?

Day 1
My husband is home recovering from serious pneumonia after a week in hospital. In an attempt to have some of the attention redirected back to me, I have completely lost my voice. We have two young children. It's summer holidays. The challenge: to maintain some kind of family life without speaking or leaving the house**. Hmmmm.

This morning I did a big grocery shop before getting out of bed. Let me just paraphrase that for you - I had not yet got out of bed and my grocery shopping was done. Someone, somewhere, was selecting my broccoli. Mid-morning I realised I ballsed up the whole thing, but I amended it with no problem. I really should use shopping lists, although when you shop online, it remembers what you've bought before and you can make up a list that way.

I used the site's "recipes and tips" section, and inadvertently designed a meal plan for the week. That's a first.

** I have discovered it is impossible to safely control a 5 and 3 year old out and about with no voice.

Day 2
My birthday is coming up so I'll just have a little peek at the shops... without leaving the house.

A dress I tried on at Britmums has been on sale at TK Maxx for £30. A quick online search and it's come down to £15. I buy it. The whole exercise took no more than five minutes. Happy birthday to me! This inspires me and I set up a Paypal account... and if my husband is reading this, don't worry. Yet.

On a different note, we are moving back to Sydney at the end of the year and I've been trying to find my daughter a nursery (pre-school) there. I know this sounds daft, but last week I asked Mum to pop in and pay for her spot on the waiting list. She has been offered a place and to accept it, we have to pay up. Being the tech-savvy woman about town that I am, I pay by internet banking using our Australian account. I know, I know... why have I not worked this out sooner?? Well my husband does the internet banking which I know makes me sound like a Doris. But he's out of action at the moment so it's about time I learnt.

Can I just say how much we will miss free nursery?

Day 3
I've been thinking at some stage I'll have to go to M&S to buy the children's uniforms for September. The nearest one is 7 tube stops away. Normally I'd think nothing of it, but I'm seriously excited to work out I can do this online. A few clicks and it's done. It's almost too easy. Why have I not been doing this forever?

Day 4
I have a subscription to a magazine, The Australian Women's Weekly. I love it and being an Aussie in the UK, it's a little taste of home (although I have NO idea who half the celebrities are). Admitting to it here is the equivalent of me screaming "THERE IS NOTHING ROCK & ROLL ABOUT ME AT ALL."

Anyway, it arrived today. And it has something very, very cool - you can download an app called Viewa. Once you have it, you just select the magazine's channel and if you like the look of a recipe in the magazine, you just click on it's Viewa logo and you'll automatically have a list of ingredients. No more searching for pen and paper, by which time you can't remember where you put the magazine, then when you do write the ingredients out you put the piece of paper down somewhere but don't know where... apparently...

Anyway this is such an exciting discovery. I've already tried three new recipes from this magazine, instead of just dog-earring random pages.

Day 5
It's my birthday. Happy birthday to me! My voice is still gone and talking hurts. My family call which is lovely, of course, but I spend each conversation apologising for cutting the call short.

I need to see the Doctor again. Getting an appointment is as fun as amputation, in fact I wrote about it here. Well now I feel really foolish because I could have saved myself all that trouble and booked it online. I had no idea. So instead of spending my birthday trying to make an appointment with a receptionist whose mission is to not give me one, I make it myself in a couple of minutes.

I've never got my head around Skype. We do use it, but my husband has to set it up on his laptop. So when he isn't here, and he works weekends, no Skype. Well, now that I am all savvy and efficient, I now have my very own Skype account on my i-pad. And when my voice returns, and my face loses this puffy full-of-snot look, I will use it.

The internet is such an everyday thing, but still, asking myself "can I do that online?" is a change for me. But this exercise has been worth it. And it's only been 5 days, so now I'm wondering what else I've been missing...?

How do you use the web to make life easier?

A Wobble

2012-08-01T14:51:00.002+01:00

You know when everything is perfect? And in the back of your mind you wonder to yourself how long can that last? You try not to think like that, it's really no way to live, but occasionally you catch yourself thinking that surely things can't be this perfect for this long.

The bubble has to burst.

Our bubble has not burst. But it's had a little wobble. And while no-one likes a wobble, it forces you to check in with yourself. To make sure you really, really know what's important. To make 100% sure you are truly grateful for all that you have. To remind you, not that you need it, that your husband is the absolute best, your family really is amazing and your friends love you.

I feel like my blog is not the forum to discuss someone else's health. But my husband has been ill and in hospital since Saturday.

Top tip for GPs! If a man comes to you for the third time, and this time he's begging to be sent to hospital, he really isn't pissing about.

I'm very happy to say he is now getting better and we think he'll be home at the end of the week. He'll need a while to recuperate after that. If I could marry antibiotics and private health insurance in some kind of bizarre ritual, I would. I'm very much in love with them both.

It's been a bloody horrible time. While the most important person here is my husband, my thoughts are also very much with those who are not so lucky.

Top tip! Don't Google the love of your life's illness. It's unsettling.

So while I'm very relieved, to be honest I'm not really myself at the moment. I'm tired. I don't feel like chatting, I don't want to see friends, I'm just in my wobbly bubble. But it hasn't burst. And soon it will no longer be wobbly.

x

Mummy Porn: My Version

2012-07-17T16:37:00.001+01:00

After an uninterrupted night's sleep in our tasteful bedroom, I wake at 9am to the sound of birds singing outside my window. Again.

Admiring the enormous vase of disease-free roses from my garden beside me, I sit up. Yesterday's clothes are not on the floor... they are out of sight and about to be laundered by the Washing Fairy. My husband brings me a tray of eggs benedict, a pot of tea and the paper. He sits at the end of the bed and rubs my feet, telling me I should be a foot model. Yes. I should. He then comments that I don't go to day spas enough and "apparently they're money well spent."

My son and daughter come in, holding hands and telling each other they are best friends. They are dressed in clothes clearly chosen by an adult, their teeth are clean and faces washed. No fingers are in noses or blatantly scratching arses. My son does not mention Pokemon, Mario or some other computer game that pisses me off. Nor has my daughter removed her clothes and drawn all over herself in biro.

"What shall we do today, Mummy? Can we go to one of your favourite galleries and you can tell us about the paintings? We will believe whatever you say and pretend you are not just making any old shit up. And we won't get lost or pull our pants down unexpectedly." Words to that effect, anyway.

I explain I'd love to but I have nothing to wear.

"Hmmm," nods my husband, "I agree. You really need more clothes. And you can never have enough shoes. Same with bags, and the cheap ones are such a false economy, aren't they? Why don't you go shopping, really go crazy, and get everything delivered so you aren't too weighed down. We can meet you at the gallery?"

I agree. I get up and listen to the radio as I'm getting dressed. It's the best news: poverty has been completely eradicated, vaccinations are available to the entire world's population, and Keeping Up with the Kardashians has been axed. It's going to be a good day.

The phone rings and it's the bank manager. He tells me our mortgage has been paid off, in fact things are so good would we consider buying a few holiday houses? Apparently Palm Beach is a bit of a goer. I tell him I'll think about it.

There's a text on my phone from the babysitter:

"Just confirming I'll be there tonight. FYI I'm free every night for the rest of the year, and have cut my rate so every second hour is free. That OK?"

It is OK. Tonight will be fun actually. My husband and I have been working our way through London's top restaurants. He loves fine dining and luxurious mini breaks, and always insists I order three courses. He often marvels at my wine matching skills... they are impressive, I have to admit.

But then I remember - I can't shop today, I'm choosing tiles for our new bathroom. We're also getting all the plumbing redone, so the toilet will flush with gusto instead of just going "pffff.... you want to get rid of that? Well you can't. Ba ha haaaa!" I tell my husband who does a sexy shrug while assuring me he'll take care of everything. "I just really want you to have your dream bathroom with state-of-the-art plumbing. And I promise you'll never have to clean it."

It's just a typical day, really.

Ooooooh baby...

My Mid 30s Guide to Life

2012-07-11T16:23:00.001+01:00

There's something a little bit arrogant about writing a guide to life. The implication is the writer has all the answers, that they know more than you. I don't think I know more than the average person, so you're probably wondering what makes me qualified to write a mid 30s guide to life. Well, I'm in my mid 30s, which you probably already knew. And I'm alive. They are the only two reasons I can think of.

Although if Miss Piggy can do it, then I'm sure I can.

But first, a caveat: please keep your expectations low. There is nothing earth-shattering here and it's not going to change the world. OK? OK. So, in no particular order...

1. It's a House Not a Museum
I tell myself this house is untidy because I'm too busy playing with the children. In reality it's because I just haven't tidied it.

But really, a house with toys scattered throughout is a happy house. It's where kids play. Sure it can be tidied away, and every so often it should be, but let's try to think of the mess as a reminder of the fun that caused it. Now if everyone that comes to my house could think that too, that'd be great.

2. Love Your Partner
People say marriage is hard work. I know I will sound smug to some but I really disagree. You'll have good times and bad times because life isn't all beer and skittles. There are two of you in this so there will be compromises. But marriage shouldn't be hard work. Love your partner. Don't assume they know how much you love them. If it's been a while since you've had a good laugh together, sort that out now. I recommend watching Kate & William: The Movie.

3. Envy is Bad
Chances are, you will know people with more money than you. Who live in a nicer house. Who are better looking / thinner / have better clothes / better taste / more talent etc. So what? That's their life, not yours. Enjoy their amazing house. Admire their beautiful clothes. Be pleased for them. But if you find yourself thinking "why should they have that and not me?" give yourself a little slap. And if you think it all the time, a bigger slap might do the trick.

It's good to want more for yourself and for your family - things don't change without aspiration. But don't compare what you have to what others have. Apart from anything else, envy is very unattractive.

And if there is just one breadwinner in the family, it will make them feel like shit. I think that's my main issue with envy.

4. Make Your Own Food, Drink Water and Exercise
This bit of three-in-one is self explanatory. Do your best to be healthy and let your kids see you trying. When you eat chocolate don't do a big song and dance about how you "really shouldn't be eating this." Eat it and enjoy it. Just don't eat ten.

5. Support Each Other
Don't buy into this "working mother vs stay-at-home" crap, whether a mother breastfeeds or formula feeds, or the supposed style wars at the school gate. It's all so boring. Sure, there are some people who aren't very nice. That's a shame but that's life.

You never know what's going on in people's lives. That woman you think is sneering at you for wearing yesterday's makeup to school might be stressed out of her head and super tired. Give her a break.

6. There Are 2 Sides to Every Story
A spot of gossip is therapeutic and fun - to a point. Some of it is just plain horrible and I'm often amazed at what some people repeat. If you've only heard one side of the story you're missing 50% of the details. Don't believe everything you hear, don't take sides and don't repeat it. Chances are you don't know what you're talking about.

7. You Can't Choose Your Family But...
... they will stick with you (for most of us, anyway). No-one is perfect and the same goes for your family. But their love comes with absolutely no strings attached and that is wonderful.

8 Keep Teenagers Busy and Broke
A mother of teenage sons once told me that, and I love it.

Although at the moment my knowledge of teenagers comes from once being one and watching Waterloo Road. So I reserve my right to change my mind when we our kids get older.

9. Sponsor a Child
We all know it's important to support charity and I'm not here to lecture you on that. But sponsoring a child puts a name and a face to what you are giving. It's also a great way of involving your own children.

Where you are born is a lottery. If you are reading this in your own home, where you have clean running water with food in the fridge, you have won. Children need to know this. Personally I think World Vision do fantastic work but there are other organisations too.

10 Don't Spend Money You Don't Have
If you can't afford it, you can't afford it. No doubt my family is reading this thinking, "money advice from Rachel??? Has hell frozen over...??!! "

So there you have it, my mid 30s guide to life. Do you agree? Disagree? What would you add?

My Style Makeover. Yes, Really.

2012-07-06T22:25:00.000+01:00

Have you ever watched those makeover shows and wished you were the one getting advice? Without Trinny or Susannah competing over who gets to grab your "tits" the most? Their word, not mine.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to Britmums Live which is a conference for parent bloggers in the UK. I had the best time catching up with blogging friends, old and new. I'm amazed at the friendships that are formed through blogging - who knew? I came out of Britmums feeling really inspired about this site, about writing, about delivering content that (hopefully) entertains and just doing my best. And happy that I got a photo of one of the waiters (see my Facebook page).

Like naughty schoolgirls at the back of the class,
Penny from Alexander Residence vandalised my notes while I was trying to learn. ;-)

But I digress. One of the sponsors of Britmums was TK Maxx, who I just lurve. I was eyeing off their things when one of their stylists asked if I'd like to book a consultation where they tell you your body shape and what clothes suit. They had racks and racks of clothes and accessories, none of which were for sale. This meant you could try all different styles without feeling obliged to buy anything. Well since you're twisting my arm...

So I booked myself in. I thought the session was fantastic. Now you normally don't get style advice from me. But I thought this was worth sharing.

They started with body shape. "Right, let's see if you have a waist..." I've always wondered which body shape "category" I fall in, so it's great to be told by people who know. I'm an hourglass, and if I'm being honest, I was a bit chuffed with that. As if it's some kind of personal achievement.

Next they looked at what I was wearing. I don't have a photo, but it was a knee-length straight denim shirt-dress, with a scarf around my neck because my top two buttons kept coming undone. They loved that I had "added interest with a colourful scarf" (I didn't tell them about my buttons) but the worst thing I can do for my shape is wear something shapeless - which the dress was. A belt would have made all the difference. They put one on me and yup. It made all the difference. Also the dress's belt tabs are in the wrong spot. My waist is quite high (really?) so I need to unpick the tabs and put them back on higher. I'll get to that sometime around never.

They asked about the clothes I wear and "trouble areas." I told them I hate my knees, have never ever looked good in a skirt, that I love dresses, and I don't have even a hint of ankle.

Right - knees: don't worry about them. Most people hate their knees because really, they're rarely pretty.

Skirts: hourglass shapes suit pencil skirts. Pencil skirts are hardly what you wear to the park, but for an evening out I should give them a try.

Dresses: a good alternative to a maxi dress is a jumpsuit. Yes. A jumpsuit. Apparently, and don't shoot the messenger here, jumpsuits suit all body shapes. They work because they come in at the waist, many of them have a nifty drawstring there so you can adjust to suit. They look great when you 'blouse' the top part over. I didn't try one on so I don't know if this is right. Are there any jumpsuit fans out there who care to comment?

Shift dresses really suit an hourglass shape, and I was told prints and bright "jewel" colours suit me. They gave me a knee-length colour blocking dress to try, one that I would have walked straight past in a shop, and it really worked. I loved it. I didn't get a photo but it was similar to this:

http://www.reissonline.com/

And look, here I am! Shamelessly, shamelessly, posing up a storm. See what I do for you?? At least, I think it's for you. It could be for me and I'm actually incredibly vain? I can't work it out. I need therapy.

Now look closely at the shoes (which are clearly too big), for that's the main reason why I've included this hellish photo. If you are similarly challenged by legs void of ankles these are the shoes you should be wearing. It makes a difference. See how the shoe is cut low? Toe cleavage? That elongates the foot, making an ankle magically appear. Aha! Some height in the heel and we are done. Wedges for me as I can't walk in heels.

Oh God these photos just get worse.

If this was on Facebook I would de-tag immediately.
Yet somehow on the blog I don't care. Why? That's a bit weird isn't it?

Now this next outfit is sooo not what I would normally wear but I loved this one. Skinny jeans (that are too big but we'll ignore that) with the wedge shoes, a lace top and "statement necklace." At least I think that's a statement necklace. Anyhoo - the thing about this top that you can't really see is it's not fitted but it has panels along the front that draw the eye down to the waist. Apparently. And I never wear necklaces like that but I'm going to start to.

OK this next photo is hideous but it's the clothes we are looking at people. Got that?

And the only other option was this photo. I have no idea what I am doing here.

"Are you there God? It's me, Rachel."

Now I thought that floral top was revolting on the hanger. And I have to say that with the jacket and the bag, I like it. Although looking at it now, I know my husband would hate it. Still, at 35 I finally realise what my mother has been saying for years: you have to try things on.

See how that jacket is a classic cut, it's got a low v-neck as opposed to a straight, high neck? That neckline (do jackets have necklines?) is pointing to the waist, making it look slimmer. Ta da! And look, they put a "statement bag" on me. I didn't know we were calling them that, but apparently we are.

So there you have it. When you get good advice it's nice to share it. I hope you've enjoyed reading my second hand fashion tips and had a good giggle at my expense.

It was fun. And when I do eventually go shopping, I will know what to buy.

If you were at Britmums, did you get a consultation? Can you share some details? Or if you have any general clothes advice or comments, I'd love to hear them. Apart from "you are not a model" because that's stating the bleeding obvious.

My Extremely Busy, Busy Day - Part 5

2012-07-04T14:13:00.000+01:00

Part 5 in a series of guest posts written by an anonymous movie star.

Having read four books in my lifetime, let me tell you, reading is very important.

We want our children to read books that inspire, that reach out of each page and touch their little hearts, don't we? Not literally. That would be creepy.

That's why I feel compelled to write a children's book. Yes, I am blessed with multiple talents - children's author is just another one. If Fergie can sell books about a helicopter called Budgie, just think what I can do! Plus if it's good enough for Madonna...

My words need to be heard by the next generation. Not just my little **Lemon and The Hills Are Alive With The Sound Of Music (THAAWTSOM for short), but children everywhere. I see myself as a literary Pied Piper, if you will. Without the rats and general unpleasantness.

My agent Verruca, named after a kind of wart, set up a meeting for me with some publishers. Next thing I know I'm sitting opposite a woman wearing tweed who looks like a horse, and another who clearly ate all the pies. They weren't looking star struck, but then I do have a way of making people feel at ease. Horse Lady asked what my story was about.

"It's about a little fat girl who has no friends. She goes on a diet, gets thin and becomes really popular!"

No one spoke. Sometimes I really under-estimate the impact I have on people.

"It's called Fat Girl Thin," I told them.

"I'm sorry, but that is completely inappropriate," said The Horse. A moment passed. I got it. Ah. It is awkward talking about fat people when there is one right there. I told them I understood, I nodded and tapped my nose to show we had an understanding. I then leant in towards the Pie Lady and told her not to worry, it's nothing the Atkins can't sort out. I can't help but help!

Well she didn't like that at all. Denial. Either that or she's a slave to the carbohydrate. So I changed the subject by announcing I have another story idea.

Thinking on my feet, I come up with a children's story right there.

"It's called The Lonely Panda." Genius! I went on, still making it up as I go.

"Li Ping Pong was all alone
She tried to mate with a big bone..."

I'm interrupted by Pie Lady who was now standing up and telling me it was a real pleasure, and wishing me luck. We shook hands. She was smiling so broadly, laughing even, I just knew she loved my story. She told me not to call, and that they didn't want to keep me as they knew I must be busy. She said she'd ask Lulu to show me out.

How considerate! They knew how hectic my life is and didn't want to inconvenience me at all. Lulu appeared and walked me out. She was a real darling actually - a slip of a thing with a pixie cut. I can spot someone who eats oxygen instead of meals a mile away. Good girl.

I just know The Lonely Panda is going to be huge. While I'm at it I might as well whip up a trilogie of adult books. Everyone knows the hard part is the title and once you have that, the rest just follows. I'll call them Thrusting in the Sun, Thrusting in the Wind and Thrusting in the Rain. I just thought of them just then! Easy! And, I might add, very tasteful.

As mummies, sometimes it's not enough to rely on others, is it? The books my children read are fine, really, but I know I could write a better one. There are times when you just have to do it yourself. Don't you think?

Namaste.

**Names have been changed. Slightly.

(Rachel here with a little note to those very fun people who follow my Facebook page. Facebook have a new technical thingamy where only about 10% of those who like a page will see status updates. To keep seeing the amazing, brilliant, hilarious, content I post...??!!... please just click / hover over the "liked" button on my page and activate the "show in news feed" option. Thanks!)

Review & Giveaway

2012-07-04T11:05:00.001+01:00

I was sent the following email:

After seeing this video, I wondered if I could offer you something to make car journeys less hellish? (I'm listening.... go on....)

I think your son and daughter are the right age to really enjoy The Land of Sometimes CD, and importantly as a parent, it's not like other kid's music CDs. It won't drive you bonkers like 2 hours of nursery rhymes will.

I clicked the link to their website and at that moment, my 3 yo daughter walked in. She was seriously excited. So, being Mother of the Year and all that, I accepted the offer.

And I'm glad.

It's true - The Land of Sometimes is not like other kids CDs. It's like your kids having access to a mini orchestra... a mini orchestra where you control the volume, I hasten to add. It's a wonderful introduction to different styles of music, from disco and jazz to reggae. The story is lovely, the voices are perfect and the songs catchy. The whole thing is beautifully done. It also comes with a wonderful little picturebook and this is how my daughter, who is now a huge fan, listens to it... with the book on her lap.

There is a downside though. At FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING she comes into our room. "Let's listen to The Land of Sometimes!"

Ummmm.... let me think.... no.

You can buy the CD directly from their website, which is www.thelandofsometimes.com. They are also on Twitter @landofsometimes.

I have a copy to give away to someone very lucky. To enter, all you have to do is like the Mums Away UK Facebook page: www.facebook.com/MumsAwayUK. Can it be any easier?? No. I think not. The winner will be drawn at random on Friday. Good luck!

Queuing with Enthusiasm: Wimbledon

2012-06-25T14:25:00.001+01:00

Move over Spielberg. After seeing this quality offering by yours truly, you will be out of a job for sure.

Jokes aside, and yes that was a joke, please excuse the quality and general badness of this little video. Get the feeling I say that before every vlog? I do have a fancy video header somewhere on this computer but I can't find it, which is fine as I can't remember what I was meant to do with it anyway.

And Mum yes I know a bit of makeup would have gone a long way, but look carefully and you can see the remnants of yesterday's mascara. The sound on my computer still doesn't work, so I watched this on my phone. And I have to ask - what's with the accent? I sound like a posh Sydney schoolgirl. That can't be right.

Anyway Wimbledon is under way and there is a real buzz around here. The once-a-year taxi rank has sprung up outside our house, on the school run I walk past the officials in their green and purple fancy threads, and the queue is starting to fill up...

Hmmm that's a nice still shot the video has gone with. I'm really thrilled with that.

Is anything exciting happening near you?

(By the way, if your kids are anything like my son and love Hot Wheels, you'll love our Mums Away UK competition. Mattel have very kindly given us 5 sets of Team Hot Wheels Double Dare Snare to give away each day until Friday.

How good is that?? To enter, all you have to do is "Like" our Facebook page and re-tweet us on Twitter (@MumsAwayUK). It's open to all and it's EASY.)

Old Post Flashback: Twilight Explained

2012-06-18T08:08:00.001+01:00

Lying in bed last night, I decided I'd do the occasional flashback on the blog. I'm not quite sure why. Yes it's a little bit lazy, but I prefer to think of it as economical.

So if you missed this first time around, or you liked it back in the day, here you are... my explanation of the Twilight saga.

Just click away if you hated it.

Just some of the Twilight dolls you can buy. If you really wanted to.

If I had to pick my favourite it'd be James. I like to think the actor was given a free one.

May your boyfriends and husbands not be vampires. x