Vote for Libby !!!

I know, I know...

I'm beggin' you again.

I'm asking nicely.

I'm whipping you into a frenzy yet again.

I'm calling in my markers....

See...Our very own Libby from Neas Nuttiness, has done something sneaky and gone and gotten herself narrowed down to one of the 9 finalists over at Profitable Mommy Blogging.

Which considering all the applicants, is a HUGE accomplishment in itself.

But am I surprised?

No way Jose.

I mean, this woman has raised 10 children, has 14 grandchildren and has done a pretty good job of maintaining her sanity, (okay, that's a bit debatable) she's kept her quirky sense of humor in spite of literally years of sleeplessness, boo-boos, bickering and breaking up fights.

She's been a cook, cleaner and general bottle-washer for more years than I'm capable of counting - and she was one of my very first followers.

(See? I told you she has a sense of humor... Libby will laugh at anything.)

The winner will win an established blog called Because Mom Said So. , along with all that goes with it.

And Libby is perfect for winning this blog (and yay! it's a profitable blog as well!) but she needs our votes.

If she wins, she promised to send me all the Crisco I want, and even though I know in my heart that Libby is the best person for this job, the promise of a never-ending supply of Crisco has me begging you all to get out there and vote.

Just go on down to Vote, and leave a comment voting for Elizabeth Neas...

Please???

Vote here

I love Jesus, but I drink a little...

I know that y'all probably watch Ellen all the time and you've more than likely heard Gladys before...
But for that one, single, sole person out there that hasn't laughed her patootie off,

I give you Gladys *debuting* on the Ellen Degeneres Show.

I just love listening to this woman!

She reminds me of a cross between my dear old Aunt Poady and my Daddy

and whew doggies...
It just makes me LMAO to listen to her!

What a weekend!

I have had the most beautiful and relaxing weekend.... and the best part is, it's lingering !
Due to some pretty amazing happenings and lots of prayers, I've now managed to get every second Monday off... and it coincides with my "off" weekend! Which gives me 3 lovely days off each and every fortnight!

And do you know what I did with the last 2 days? Nothing ! Woot Woot !! I puttered... I pottered... I read, I slept and did nothing!

Well, except for Saturday morning when my dear Lee Loubelle came by. And Lee Loubelle doesn't just "come by".... she hammers at the door and croaks out my name loud enough to wake the dead and then she hammers some more. So when I went to the door, peeped through the "peep hole in the door thingie" and yelled at her to go away because I was sleeping, she croaked even louder and demanded that I open the door right NOW, because there was an emergency.
So of course I opened the door.

Knowing full well that with Lee Loubelle, a broken bra strap, her daughter being in a foul mood, her little dog Louie peeing on a car tire or missing an episode of The Bold and The Beautiful, ALL constitute "emergencies". (not Louie missing The Bold and The Beautiful... Lee Loubelle herself missing it. And Lee doesn't pee on car tires either.)

So Saturday morning's "emergency" was that she had driven to the Polish Hall where we were supposed to be having a car boot sale (car trunk sale to you Northern Hemispherers) and there was NO ONE THERE ! Well, of course there wasn't Lee... it's pouring down rain and who would be sitting out in the rain, trying to sell gee-gaws and the like in the pouring rain?

Well, there was no help for it. I had to get dressed right now (weekends mean I get to live in my jammies.... sheesh!) and head on over to see if they were open inside the hall... because they might just be selling some polish doughnuts. (insert major eye-roll here) Polish doughnuts... like I need - and my arse needs - home made Polish doughnuts?

So we went.
And we found them...
And we ate.
And I bought 10 extra doughnuts, just in case I got peckish over the weekend.

We came home, had a quick cuppa and then she decided that she had more important things to do at home, and she pissed tottered off.

So I came back in, stripped off my clothes, had a quick shower, put my jammies back on and I did nothing for the next 48 hours. Nada!

No one rang, no one knocked on the door and even the Old Guy made himself scarce so that I could read and "nana nap" to my hearts content!
Heaven... I'm in Heaven...

So today, (geez I'm pretty wordy when it comes to telling you that I did nothing much of anything... aren't I?) I'm still off ! Mostly.

I have the carpet cleaner guy coming by at 10:30 this morning, but the Old Guy did most of the furniture moving last night, while I just sat and ate two five Polish doughnuts, so it's still "kick-back" time around here !!!
I wanted to do this sexy lounging on the couch thing, ala "Queen of Sheba", while he carried the couch into the dining room, but he said he couldn't do that. It must have been the extra weight of the two five doughnuts, do you think?

It's a 3 day weekend... and I'm having the Time of My LIFE !

Sad, eh?

ps...
What's a hernia?
The Old Guy said he would have gotten one of them if he tried to move the couch with me on it. That means " happy" doesn't it? He would have been happy if he had moved me and the couch at the same time... is that right?

Happy Birthday to my Grandson !!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

to my sweet, sweet Grandson !

Today is my middle grandson Griff's birthday... and man, I wish I were there, to give him a cuddle and a kiss!
(ewwwwww Grummie, NO!)

I've sent him several packages with errmm... secret stuff in them and there's a card on the way as well.

The card would have been there in time, but silly Grumpy took it to the post office, put a 55 cent stamp on it, mailed it off and 5 days later it was returned to me with insufficient postage.

So, it's been re-mailed with sufficient postage this time and it's winging it's way to California right now...

Happy Birthday Griffin !

Grummie & Grumpy LOVE you!!

XOXOXO

"Moments For Mum" is having a giveaway !

And yes, I'm spruiking for her!

Now for those who don't know what spruiking is... it's standing up in public place and sharing /encouraging/ people to check out the "specials" inside - usually with the aid of a megaphone.
Well, I don't have a megaphone and even if I did, with my kids around, I would have taken out the batteries long ago.
So I'm just telling you, okay?

Narelle (from Moments for Mum) and I have been friends for quite a while now .... and I think the world of her.
She's warm and funny and feisty and down to earth... and when we've spoken on the phone, (we're in the same biz, so we have a lot to talk about, as you can imagine)
I always come away with a warm, fuzzy feeling, you know?
A big smile on my face because she touches me.

But she has a serious side. And that serious side has written a book... which is being launched next weekend! And the book is called.... "Moments for Mum".
(YAY Narelle! You GO girl!!)

And as part of the celebrations leading up to the book launch, Narelle is having a little giveaway over at her blog... and I would love for y'all to head over there, check her out and leave a comment as a show of support.

This is what she sent to me just last night:

To celebrate the launch of my book next weekend I'm having a little give-away on my blog. It's just a little package of goodies, which includes a copy of my book, and to win all you have to do is leave a comment!

Which is what I just said in the first place.
But it's worth saying twice.
Although maybe she said it better.

So please... head on over there and check out not only her blog Moments for Mum
(which is worth reading, even if there wasn't a giveaway going on)
but her first book "Moments for Mum" as well.

I would love to see a huge show of support for a wonderful, funny, warm woman who has touched my heart and inspired me... in so many ways.

Narelle has taken the risk if putting herself out there and following her dream of writing a book, (which is something I will never have the gumption to do) but she's done it with style and grace... so let's show this girl some support!

(oh... and get in on the giveaway while you're at it!)

Just click >>>HERE<<<

I am one messed-up mama !

I just double checked my archives, and according to them, I've only done 176 posts.

Yet my dashboard says I'm sitting right on 196 posts - and this one makes 197.

So who's right?

I checked that there were no "draft" posts just sitting there, looking like I had been busier than I actually have been, but I still can't figure it out.

If you go back and edit a past post, or add something to it later on, do they count that as an actual additional post, even though it's a post that's already been counted before?

Theoretically, if you edit one post 9 times, does it automatically become listed as 10 separate postings?

Oh my... My poor head is spinning.. and it's just too early in the morning for my brain to be thinking deep thoughts. Sadly, I use that excuse - or excuses just like it - throughout the entire day.

I'm a pitiful person that way.

So what do I do? Who do I listen to?

I think in all fairness, I'm going to assume that the 176 posts is the correct figure.

As much as I hate, hate, hate to go with the archives - because I'm all hyped up and excited at being so close to 200 - I think it's the right thing to do. I'm willing to concede that maybe they know a little more than I do.

*sigh*

So... rather than hit the big 200 in the next few days like I though I would, it's going to take me another few weeks to reach the actual milestone.

I know you'll be disappointed at having to wait for the giveaway and all... because you're all excited and restless and almost sleepless at the mere thought of winning some totally inane and useless crap from Tatersmama.

But I'm afraid that you'll just have to straighten your big girl panties, square your shoulders, wipe your eyes and firm your quivering chins... and simply "buck up", boys and girls!

The big 200 will come... it will just come a little later than I thought.

Coming soon! ...another Giveaway!

YIPPEE !!!

In just a few days, I'll be racking up my 200th post... so there will be another little giveaway happening. ( I know... Be still my beating heart!)

This one will be a tad more organized, but after all this time, you should know me well enough to know that sometimes, my best just isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Numerous posts in the past have proven that little point!


I'm just amazed ( and a little worried) that you seem to keep coming back. Well, not worried in the way that you're a potentially dangerous, stalker-ish type of person.
But more along the lines of you must live pretty sad, uneventful lives to keep coming back here to read my drivelings on a regular basis.


But I have to say - I'm just glad you do!
Really glad !!!


Anyway, the next little giveaway will be done by randomly chosing a commenter on the 200th post ...
And because I have no idea how to find - or use - one of those super-duper, random generator thingies, I'll do it the old fashioned way.
You know.
Simple mind... simple techniques.


I'll print out the comments, place them in a hat and have the Old Guy pick one out.

Anything harder than that would just confuse him.

Anything harder than that would confuse me.



So, keep your eyes peeled for that 200th post !

We have a winner...Boy that was quick!

Well, it looks like Bz at The Mosquitoes Buzz has won the as of yet un-figured out prize for clicking my Stat Counter over to 10,010 !

Congratulations Bz !!!
Your Whoopie Cushion will be in the mail just as soon as Libby sends it to me!
(Only joking! I swear! Libby will never send it to me...)

What I plan on doing is heading over to Simply Australian and picking out some typical and lovely Australian gifts... and then having them send it directly to you. You get more "bang for your buck" this way, since mailing costs from Australia can be soooo expensive!
Just send me your address, and I'll get right on it. ;-)

How does that sound?

Pretty lame.... I know!

A Prize!!

The person who clicks my stat counter over to 10,000 visitors, will win a lovely prize package...

I don't know what it will be yet, and depending on the country of origin, the items might vary a bit... but it will be fun to see who wins the gift!

How organized am I, eh?
I had all week to get this organized, and typical for me, I left it to the very last minute!

If you click the counter over to 10,000 - just leave a comment... and email me!

Uh oh... It seems that I - in typical "leave it to the last minute fashion", am the one who clicked over to 10,000... *blushing*

So to be fair, I'm going to pick another number.... say 10,010...

Number 10,010 will WIN!!

I've got a Milk Man!

An "honest to goodness" Milk Man!

I'm always running out of milk... and because it's such a hassle to get 4-7 kids to the grocery store, I'm always calling the Old Guy and saying:

"Hi Baby... I just called to say I love you.

And oh... before I forget, I need milk. Can you please bring me some milk?"

And he always does, because he's such a sweetheart, but c'mon, let's face it... it's not a very efficient system, you know what I mean?

So I decided to go looking this morning , just to see if I could find somebody who home delivers in this area...

And I found myself a Milk Man!

He delivers straight to the door on Mondays and Thursdays, he carries butter and marg, cheeses, cream, yogurt, bread, juices, bottled water and he'll even deliver your newspaper or favorite magazines!

AND he'll bring an invoice every fortnight, ( every 2 weeks) so with today being the start of the fortnight, I won't see a bill for 2 weeks !

I got 2, 2 litre jugs of milk, a loaf of bread and a big block of cheese... and he'll check back in on Thursday to see how my supplies are holding out!

Now if he would only chip me off a big hunk of ice, so that I could sit on the curb and suck on it, while it runs down my arms and drips off my elbows, gettin' my toes all wet and muddy and cool.... I could re-live my childhood!

Where's that Milk Man?

The day's a-wastin' !

ME Time !!!

That's what I want. I want ME time... and I crave it with a vengeance!

Don't you just hate how life seems to get in the way of having a life?
Everything seems to revolve around doing the necessary things that need to be done, but about the only time you actually have to yourself, involves crawling between the sheets - utterly exhausted.

I love my bed. Truly I do.. and there's nothing nicer than crawling into a bed with fresh, sweet-smelling sheets that have dried on the line... after having a shower to wash off the grime of the day and laying there with a good book until my eyes can't stay open any longer.
Which is why Old Guy lives in his house, and I live in mine.
I don't like sharing.

But, as nice as bed can be, there's got to be more to life than being exhausted all the time.

Now see.... I like me some TV time. I really do. I have certain programs that I love to watch and I watch them as often as I can. But does watching TV constitute "me" time ?

Nope... not when that time is taken up with folding laundry, filling out paperwork, cleaning the kitchen and a whole myriad of other chores, while the TV is on...

I love to listen to music.... but the same thing happens. Never do I get the chance to just sit back, close my eyes and let the music wash over me. There's too much that needs doing, and there's no one else here to do it.

What started this whole "I have no life" thing, was what Old Guy did to me yesterday.

I had one small, smelly, undisciplined child, who for once in his life, was being fairly disciplined... he was sitting in the floor quietly playing with the train set.
And as I ( and the Old Guy) sat here watching Frontier House and watching the little guy play, my eyes got so heavy that I couldn't keep them open any longer. I dozed off. I heard myself snort - and I just didn't care. I snorted again.

And I woke to Old Guy shaking my arm and saying " Babe, I can see you're tired, so I'll head home now".
Nice huh?

How about just leaving me to snore for 20 minutes... and keeping an eye on little fella for me? No, he thought he would go home and leave me to sleep in peace... with a rowdy 2 year old playing near by!
This is about the 3rd time in 2 weeks that he has done the exact same thing... and he just does NOT get it.
Probably because he has a pen ermmm... man brain.

When he sees a child stuffing toilet paper in the toilet and it's something that he could handle it himself, he comes to tell me. When he sees I'm beyond exhausted and I have a child in care... he decides to leave.
He's got a very "hands-off" approach and it's driving me around the twist.

Anyway... I digress. I do that a lot.
Especially when I'm surviving on 5-6 hours of sleep a night and not eating breakfast until 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

What I miss - and I miss it desperately, is blogging.

Posting blogs, reading blogs and feeling that I have a life outside of these 4 walls.
Catching up with what's been going on in the lives of friends..
seeing things through their eyes, seeing photos of where they live, photos of beautiful flowers, adorable pets and livestock...
trying the recipes they've shared...
(quite frankly, I'm at a loss as to what to cook anymore because my *get up and go* has got up and went, so the recipes can be a life-saver)

It seems lately that I can't just read through blogs in the morning like I used to. I liked getting up early, having a cup of coffee by my side and reading through my friends blogs and leaving comments. Having an hour or 2 to myself before knuckling down and getting to work. Nowadays, it just seems like I hit the ground running in the morning...
and I never stop until I run out of gas.

When these children leave today, ( I have 3 overnighters til mid-afternoon) I want the rest of the day to myself.
No Old Guy, no laundry, no paperwork and nothing hanging over my head, demanding attention.
I want ME time. Sitting around the house in my jammies time. No noise, no responsibilities, nothing to do but veg out and relax time.
Blogging time.

Do you think I'll get it?

Bwahahaha... I must be in bed dreaming, because there's a fat chance of that ever happening.

The Old Guy will probably come in while I'm dozing and happily drooling all over myself... he'll shake me awake and say "Babe, you look like you're exhausted... do you want a cuppa?"

Susan Boyle... simply breathtaking!

I don't know what it is about this woman, but she has completely drawn me in.

The honesty, humbleness and her average, ordinary looks... along with the most amazing and heart-stoppingly beautiful voice... Well, she just sends delightful shivers down my spine and she brings tears to my eyes!
I've watched the video time after time and the tears just keep flowing...because she's honest. she's true... and she's a gift to all of us.

She makes me feel hopeful again.

Hopeful that the day will come, when we all stop judging books by their covers and start seeing - truly seeing - the warmth and depth and lovliness of a person based on simply who they are... rather than what they look like.

Now I know you've probable all seen her before, because lets face it... after she auditioned on Britains Got Talent... you would have a hard time turning on the TV nowadays, without seeing the video or interviews.

But if you haven't seen it, grab your tissues, sit down and be prepared to be amazed.

I wanted to add the video on here, but it's been disabled.. so simply click the link to see

Susan Boyle

(click the box on the bottom of the video to watch it full-screen)

I nursed three babies at once

Something popped out of my mouth yesterday, that I never thought I would say. I guess unbeknown-st to me, the "Aussie-isms" are creeping up on me... and it's kind of weird.

See, to me... "nursing a baby" has always been to breastfeed a baby. It's feeding your baby with your boobs and it's what I did with all of mine. I "nursed" them. I had nursing bras, nursing pads for those inevitable embarrassing leaks, and breast pumps made for "nursing mothers"

So, the first time an Australian mother asked me if I wanted to nurse her baby, I freaked and said "NO WAY I'M DOING THAT ... ARE YOU NUTS?"
Which actually constitutes yelling, not saying... but I'm pretty sure that's what I did anyway - and I still remember the look of shock on that mothers face!
Plus she's never let me live it down, and the kid is 12 now.

To most Aussie's, nursing... well, it means an entirely different thing. It just means to hold and cuddle. Sniff their little necks and stroke their silky cheeks. Revel in their baby-ness.
But the term "nursing" when applied to other peoples babies and not my own, still leaves me feeling kind of squeamish.

Anyhow.. yesterday I had 3 babies at once and these babies were all thoughtful, caring little souls.
If one of them cried, they all joined in in sympathy... and they joined in heartily. So you can just imagine my joy... as well as the blood leaking from my ears, as I tried to deal with 3 screaming, wriggling, little sweaty bodies at the same time.

Nobody really knew why they were crying, but they thought it was sort of fun to do, it showed solidarity to their playmates and it was guaranteed to make Tatie frantic.

So at one point, I had 3 wigglers in my lap ... there were bottles in the mouths of two of them and a pacifier in the mouth of the third... and I was singing to them.
(and of course because my hands and arms were occupied, my nose started itching like crazy. why does it always do that?)
But at least they were all calming down ( still screaming, but at least my ears had stopped leaking blood), and 3 sets of little eyes were finally going droopy.

Then the Old Guy, in his infinite wisdom, strolls in, sees me battling 3 screaming babies at once... and calmly informed me that the 6 year old was pulling the toilet paper off the roll and stuffing it in the toilet. And when I said my hands were kinda full at the moment and could he please deal with it, do you know what he said?
He said:
"But what if he doesn't want to listen to me? Maybe you should go do it."

ME???
Don't you see that I kind of have my hands full here?
You think I should just drop these little ones on the floor, start them into doing their best air-raid siren imitations again, start my ears bleeding again... and go tell a 6 year old to simply stop doing what he's doing?

Can't you see I'm NURSING babies here????

And that's when it hit me. I was "nursing". Not my own child, skin to skin, boob in the mouth kind of thing... but I was nursing other peoples babies... and I was fully clothed while doing it.

Next thing ya know, I'm going to start saying "wat-ah" for water, or ask for a tinnie at the end of the day.

Counting the hours.... *sigh*

Believe me... I AM counting the hours! Only 11 hours and 12 minutes, until I can say I survived the school holidays!

We've cut and pasted...

we've colored in...

we've beaded flowers and key-chains...

we've eaten

we've made origami animals and flowers until my fingers cramped and I got paper cuts...

we've built block villages and run trains sets through the hallways...

we've painted paper and the walls of the shed with water...

we've eaten

we've pulled weeds and instead of throwing them on the compost pile, we've presented them to various mums...

we've eaten

we've done puzzles and moved the furniture half a dozen times looking for lost puzzle pieces...

we've baked cupcakes and brownies...

we've dressed and fed dollies and thrown the expensive doll diapers in the bin because they were yucky-pooey...

we've eaten

we've played storekeeper and waitress and fed each other plastic egg and pickle sandwiches and pretend cups of Rosy tea

we've talked and sung and danced until we fell down in a heap...

and we've complained innumerable times about being bored, because there's nothing to do here.

Today's lot consists of :

• my 12 year old with Autism
• a 10 year old with pre-teenage attitude
• a 4 year old with the manners of an feral dingo and the face of an angel
• her gorgeous little sister - 2, with teething issues.
• A 3 year dream of a child unless someone else exhibits cranky behavior... and then she joins in as a show of support. It confuses her to be grumpy, but she tries... bless her little heart!
• another 3 year old who doesn't understand the word no ( this one will NOT be coming back..EVER !!)
• And an adorable 12 month old, who just had his 3rd heart surgery last month, so we have tubes and wires and monitors coming out of everywhere... and the worst case of reflux and pooey pants that I've ever seen. And who smiles and coos through it all.

The last of them leave tonight at 7pm... so could y'all do me a favor?

Could you say another little prayer for me?

And send a maid, a bottle of tequila and something to eat, so that I don't have to cook ever again.

Until tomorrow.... when my weekend kids arrive.

Update Update Update....

I survived.

Barely.

Now where is that bottle?

Where have I been, you ask?

Well, I'm not really sad.
Really.

It's the last week of school holidays here
(only 1 more day, thank heavens!!)
and the kids are drivin' me crazy.

It beats walkin' though.
~~~~~~~~

If you've ever thought of doing family daycare,
or have entertained the idea of having children...
please go get your head examined.

Confession Time

My problem with people ( especially men people) adulterating my cooking with ketchup, or criticizing my cooking, goes waaaay back.

Back to when I was married to "he who shall remain nameless".

See, years and years ago, I somehow managed to get an entire day off work from both the jobs I was working .

So, since I had all day in front of me, I decided to go all out and prepare a lovely 7-course Chinese meal for my family.

I spent all day cooking and preparing and man 'o man... was I proud of what I had turned out!

Now "nameless", used to work the afternoon shift...but most nights, he would drive the patrol car home for dinner. By the time he had arrived for dinner that night, the kids and I were starving, so they sat down to their meal, while I made up a plate for my husband.

Well, he must have had a bad afternoon at work, (or maybe he hadn't, because he was just an arsehole all of the time and it was extremely hard to tell)... because he took one look at that plate and started raving about how a real man needs meat and potatoes... not that fancy schmancy Chinese stuff !!!

Meat! I tell you, I need Meat! I pay for the &%@ing groceries around here... and I expect meat on my plate!

Okay, ars... ermmmm... honey. I'll fix you something else instead.

Now, we used to have dogs. Big dogs. And when we bought canned dog food, we used to buy it by the case.

So I headed into the kitchen, pulled a can of this off the shelf,

Did this to it :

Dipped it in egg and flour, added a little salt and pepper, and turned it into this:

Which I then presented to him on a fine china plate with a side of canned potatoes. Because nothing but nothing, was too good for my sweet little "he shall remain nameless".

Here's a photo of him....

(Well, this isn't really him, because this cop is eating a donut and he has hair on his head, while my nameless was bald as an egg and he was eating burgers.)

But you get the gist of the table manners... right?

Anyway, arsehole ate everything on his plate... asked for more... undid the top button on his pants, because he was stuffed like a Christmas Goose... farted a couple of times and then told me
"Now that's what I expect to see on the table every week, from now on."

And let me tell you, he well and truly got what he asked for.


And the Old Guy wonders why I get so touchy when what I cook isn't good enough as it is...and he has to smother it in ketchup?
I would like to shove that ketchup bottle where the sun doesn't shine!

I have issues.
Oh my yes... I have issues.

What is it with men and ketchup?

Did I tell y'all that we went to the Farmers Market around the lake on Saturday?

Well we did... although it was so small that it almost wasn't worth going.
But go we did... and I did manage to find a few little things, like kipler potatoes, homemade pumpernickle bread, free-range eggs and some Lebanese meat pastrie thingies.
I think they were called Lahm Bi 'Ajeen?
They had lamb in them anyway and I thought they might be a nice replacement for the spiral cut ham that I had been planning on for Easter dinner... because the Ham Man wasn't at the market.

Served with a nice side salad, the baby kiplers, fresh green beans and Lahm Bi 'Ajeen would make a quick and simple Easter dinner. Yes?

So, last night, I cooked everything to perfection... with the beans still slightly crisp, the steamed and then lightly browned potatoes still sizzling and the deliciously fragrant meat pastry smelling like heaven!
I called the old guy to the table, then ran to answer the phone and asked him to wait until I took a picture before he ate..... and when I came back, his entire plate was swimming in ketchup!
KETCHUP!
I could have killed him!

What is it with men and ketchup?

Why do I go to all the effort of cooking a properly seasoned, beautiful meal.... and then he just turns around and drowns everything in ketchup?
His reasoning?
But I LIKE ketchup!

Well, bloody hell....I like chocolate too, but you don't see me pouring Hersheys syrup all over my food, now do you?

We had this whole discussion a week or so ago ( which is why I will never make chicken and dumplings again) and at the time, I asked him a little question.

I asked him :

Say you found a dress that you just knew I would love. The perfect style, the perfect color, the perfect everything. And say you presented me with this dress because you wanted to make me happy. And I looked at the dress and said "Oh honey, it's absolutely perfect and I can't believe you went to all that trouble for me! I LOVE IT!

BUT... I want to change those buttons, rip the sleeves off and maybe sew some rick rack around the bottom to make it longer... oh, and dye it another color. How would you feel about that?"

And he said , Well, I would feel badly because the dress that I picked out and that I bought you wasn't what you really wanted.

So would you go out again next week and buy me another dress?"

Well, of course not.

"Why not?"

Because I went to a lot of trouble for the first dress, so it would break my heart if you didn't like the next dress either. I would feel like I can't please you. What I tried to do, wasn't good enough.

"But honey, I DO love the dress exactly as it is. I just want to make it look different."

But that means you don't like it, as it is. If you really liked it, you wouldn't want to change it and change buttons and sleeves and stuff.

"Yes honey, but I do like the dress... I absolutely LOVE the dress and it's everything that I ever dreamed of....
I just want to cover it in KETCHUP and then I'll be fine with it!!"

And he said he got it...

But obviously, he didn't.

It's his birthday today and I had planned on roast pork with his favorite roasted pumpkin, potatoes and carrots.... the whole nine yards.

But I think he'll end up with McDonalds, instead.

Happy Easter, my friends

I wish I were home in Murphys right now.
I wish I were standing at the side of my daughters grave, with a crowd of people around, dressed in their finest or their warmest, draped in blankets, with fuzzy hats pulled down over their eyes and babies swaddled to the point where you can't tell who is who. Easter hats and cowboy hats, mingling together for one sole purpose.

I wish I could hear the quiet murmur of voices, as we wait in anticipation for Pastor Gary to begin the service and then those same quiet, murmuring voices raised in praise as the sun peaks over the mountain and through the trees - showing us his promise.
I want to be with my loved ones, standing there anticipating the gift of what Jesus promised to us.


The first Easter after my daughter died... well, that was one of the hardest I had ever gone through, but it was at the same time, one of the most joyous and heartfelt ones of all.
Because I had the promise that my daughter - and later on, my son - would be returned to me.
They, just like Jesus, will arise... and we will spend eternity together.

Jesus died for us... and in return, in my humble and faltering way, I try and live each day for him.

I fail to live up to my expectations most of the time, but I hope in the deepest part of my heart that Jesus will appreciate the effort, if not necessarily the results!

I'm a failure.
I'm weak.
I make mistakes and don't live up to my own expectations, let alone anyone elses..

But on this day, more so than at any other day or time of the year, I have no doubt that Jesus loves me in spite of it all.

Thank you Jesus, for the greatest gift of all.
Thank you for giving yourself, so we all might live and know glory in Gods Holy Kingdom.

"I asked Jesus ... "How much do you love me "
And Jesus said ... "This much."
Then He stretched out His arms and died."

May I wash your feet?

Today is Maundy Thursday (well actually it's Good Friday here in Oz, but my American head and heart are always a day behind at this time of year)...

and I would like to offer to wash your feet.

I know it sounds strange, but it's always been a tradition that we followed growing up and it continued right up until I left the US for Australia.

Here, I get odd looks and most folks say that they aren't religious.... so I get a lot of "No Thanks"!

Here's quick explanation of Maundy Thursday:

Maundy Thursday is the day before Good Friday. It's the Thursday before Easter and it commemorates the Last Supper.On this day, we remember the Last Supper.

Before the meal, Jesus washed his disciples feet, and during the meal Jesus took bread and wine and shared them with his disciples.

And as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this is my body.
And he took the cup, and gave thanks, and gave it to them, saying, Drink ye all of it;
For this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for many for the remission of sins.
But I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom.

(Matthew 26:26-29)

The night of Maundy Thursday is also the night on which Jesus was betrayed by Judas in the Garden of Gethsemane.

The name 'Maundy' comes from the Latin word “mandatum”, meaning a commandment.

Jesus, at the Last Supper, commanded:
'And now I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.' John 15:12

And as as way of showing the love that Jesus had for us, and the love that we should have for one another, he washed his disciples feet.

I grew up being a foot-washer. I grew up putting the needs of others before myself and getting down there and showin' the love - and well... it was just an important part of the Easter holiday for me.

I don't know if it was completely part-and-parcel of Quaker teaching, but what could be kinder, more loving, or more thoughtful than to kneel at the feet of someone/s and to wash their sins away, in honor of Christ?

So, I'll humbly ask you again....

May I wash your feet?

No McDonalds.... *sigh*

Well, we were all dressed and waiting to go... but we never made it.

My special needs boy needed to leave by no later than 10:30, so that my other children could arrive ( I'm limited to no more than 7 in care and this one child is assessed as "two" children) and we could begin our long, slow, fraught with dangers and untold adventures, walk to Macca's.

Only the mother forgot that her son was with me ( parent is a pita at ALL times) so when the 8 year old child arrived, I asked mum to meet us at McDonald's in 30 minutes.

2 year old child arrived, and dad was happy to stand around talking to old guy, while we waiting for 8 yr old to be picked up.
I called bad mother and she said " Oh, %*$#! I forgot!

At 11, I rang her again asking "where in the "bleep" are you?" and she said "but if I leave work now to come pick him up, I'll have to work back ... and I have plans tonight. I have a date."

SHE has plans?
What about MY plans to take the children to McDonald's?
What about the mother who's sitting in the McDonald's parking lot, waiting for me?
What about the dad standing around talking to the Old Guy?
Don't you think THEY have plans too?

What about the plans my children and I had?
Here they are, the older ones clutching their McDonald's money, shoes and jackets on, baby in the stroller....waiting patiently at first, and then eventually they started in whining and fighting amongst themselves, because they wanted to GO... not just stand around like stuffed rabbits.
Who could blame them?

So... at 12.20, a worker from the respite facility finally arrives to pick up my 8 year old. It's not his fault. I know that. It falls squarely and completely on this worthless, thoughtless, excuse for a mother. The poor guy was as livid as I was.

Unfortunately, the mother waiting at McDonald's, couldn't wait any longer.
The father standing around talking to Old Guy, couldn't wait any longer.

So, by the time 8 year old is gone off to respite, I'm left with 5 children instead of 7 and 12:30 is the worst time in the world to go into McDonald's. The whole town (all 85,000 of 'em) gathers at McDonald's at lunchtime. It's packed. It's a madhouse. Cars careening through the drive-thru... and traffic backed down the street.

So... we didn't go.

Old Guy walked down and picked up food to be brought home... and we compromised by having a McDonald's picnic in the backyard. The kids were disappointed but they were good about it.
Well, most of 'em anyway.

All day long, I had to put it out of my mind and go on as normal, but let me tell ya... I was seething inside.
You can mess with ME anytime you want.
You can piss ME off anytime you want.
But when it comes down to you messing with MY kids... all hell is gonna break loose!

NO ONE messes with MY children!

So, mature, thoughtful, caring person that I am... did something totally out of character.
I rang the mother up last night and told her that I needed to cancel ALL care for her child for next week.
Because "You see mother, I have PLANS!!!"

We will attempt the trek to Micky D's again next week, and nothing but nothing is gonna interfere with that!

Going in to enemy territory...

Yup, it's school holidays here... and I've been up to my ears in rug-rats.

Big ones, small ones, toilet trained ones and those who don't have a clue... and just poo in their nappies with wild abandon.

Small, smelly, fiddly, fussy people who want to do this.... no, wait I want to do that instead... she touched my paper... no, she touched my paper... I want more paint please...she's eating my paint... I don't want a nap.. I'm too BIG for naps... Taters, can you hear that? the baby is crying... somebody is at the door... make him give that back... I'm hungry... I want to go home... I never want to go home, because this is so much fun and I WUV OOO!

Nice, but not nice... ya know what I mean?

I just thank God that I can send them home at the end of the day,

because by the end of the day,

I can fully and completely understand why some species eat their young!

But today, as a way to celebrate their (semi) good behavior and as a way to get me out of the house, so that I can see other grown-ups and gaze longingly at people who aren't going around the twist... people with clean, unmarked clothes and nice hair that isn't standing on end with some sort of freaky purple something stuck in it... I'm going on an outting!

Yes, we're going to McDonald's !

I'm goin' IN ...with 7 children !!! 1,2, 3, 6, 8,8 and 9... and all girls!

This quick little treat means dragging out the double stroller and loading it with 2 little ones and assorted crap, pushing 1 wheelchair and the rest will be walking and carrying the rest of the "this stuff is absolutely necessary if we want to leave the house for 5 minutes" assorted crap.

All to go one block.

For lunch.

If I don't return, please contact McDonalds.

They should be able to give you the phone number of the psyche unit.

When good deeds backfire...

I did something yesterday, that I sort of regret.
Yet in a way, I'm sort of proud of myself too - and more than a bit relieved..

Sort of.

See, I've spent the last 18 hours or so alternately beating myself up over it ... and patting myself on the back at the same time...

I'm starting to look like a bloody pretzel, believe me...

Between the knocking myself in the head and patting myself on the back, I am one twisted sister!

Mainly, I feel that I did the right thing.

I said what was in my heart and I did it for the right reasons and that can't be anything but a good thing... right?

So then why does it hurt so bad?

I'll tell ya about it, okay?

(deep breaths)

Hi, my name is Tatersmama and I'm a member of an online daycare group.

I've been with them for almost 2 years and as far as the other members go, well... I've met some great friends that I never ever want to lose track of... Special folks... ya know?

Like any on-line group, there are some pretty dicey moments, where tempers flare, things are said... but eventually everything smooths out again and peace reigns again. Then again, things can be as smooth as butter and there are no hassles for months on end.

Kind of like that old nursury rhyme:

There was a little girl,

Who had a little curl,

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good, She was very, very good,

But when she was bad, she was horrid.

Yep, that's the perfect description.

Anyway...

About a year ago, this group was going to place an ad in a national magazine and one particular carer volunteered to collect money to help pay for the ad.

No worries mate... what a good idea.

It was helpful to the owner of the group, great advertising for us all...yada yada yada...

Quite a few of us donated what we could... and all was rosie.

Only, the ad didn't happen. (at that point, there was a good reason, so we weren't worried)

We would just put an ad in the next issue.

That too, fell through... and at that point, one particular member asked if we were going to get our money back. I backed her up, but we got no response.

I privately Pm-ed the woman.

I privately Pm-ed the group owner.

No ad, we want our money back... simple.. yes?

I got no response from anyone.

So about a week ago, I came across that particular thread again and re-opened the discussion.

Clearly, by the response, people wanted their money back, because we weren't talking chicken feed here. ( this is money to pay for a national ad... and they don't come cheap)

We were talking BIG money for some of us and smaller amounts for others... but at the end of the day, that was OUR money and we deserve an explanation as to where it went.

The only thing is, the member who had collected the money has virtually disappeared.

The group owner tried contacting her...

individual members sent her private messages and emails...

And we got nada.. nothing... no response... no explanation for almost 8 months.

Until yesterday.

Yesterday we finally got a response, and it wasn't nice.

No sir, it wasn't nice at all.

She YELLED at us through the whole message, accusing us of having called her dirty scum, a thief and on and on... even going to the point of airing her dirty laundry and then finishing with "THERE...I HOPE YOU'RE ALL HAPPY!

No one had called this woman names and I swear... no one had ever been anything but polite.

Maybe a bit firm because we were concerned as to where OUR money had gone, but I guarantee that we were ALL polite about it.

See, It's not in my nature to be anything but polite... and I will turn the other cheek so many times, that I look like Linda Blair in the Exorcist. Anyone who knows me can tell you that.

So rather than get into a big hoo-ha over it, I simply replied:

"Thank you XXX, thanks for letting us know"

Which I guess, was the wrong thing to say. Because the diatribe continued.

We got more "SNARL SNARL SNARL, just tell me what you want me to do and I'll send you your money."

(well... snarl snarl snarl weren't her exact words, but I'll let you leave it up to your imagination)

So I purely and simply said:

( and this is copied and pasted directly from the site - or rather what was on the site)

XXXX,

I will be contacting you in the next day or so.

I was taught by my mother to think wisely and speak carefully and kindly at all times...and I'm afraid I'm not capable of doing either, at this point.

Better to wait, until I've calmed down and dried my tears.

That was IT.

Is there anything hateful or hurtful in that?

Yet it was immediately removed from the site, because it was deemed inflammatory and potentially hurtful.

HER message (Miss XXXX's nasty nasty diatribe) remained for hours.

Then, the owner came in with her message that basically read

"Oh XXXX, I knew you were just busy, gush gush, coo coo, hugs hugs, my dear friend."

I mean.... this response was just vomit-inducing and it was a clear slap in the face to everyone who had asked for their money back.

So... I posted a message that I would be leaving the group.

Again, being me, it was tastefully and politely done ...and I simply stated that I had decided to leave. No mention of why, no accusations, no mud-slinging - basically just

"I will be leaving the group on Friday and I will miss you all."

And the support I got? OMG... I had Pm's and emails all night long, asking me to re-think and stay on. Let it slide... we've all been there.... this is wrong... someone needs to say something... etc.

But I'm torn.

I feel like I've done my dash and to back down now...well, it would make me look foolish.

Sometimes it just comes down to a matter of principle, ya know?

Someone needed to say something and take a stand... and I did it out of the goodness of my heart. Not just for me, but for everyone involved.

And I got a good swift kick in the arse for my troubles.

But.. the group is a great resource for my job, with heaps of tips, activities and support.

Not to mention, some pretty great friends as well... and although we do keep in contact off-list, I would miss the group socialization, ya know?.

What to do? What to do ?

In the garden (well, sort of)

Well... not really, but you know me... (insert rolling eyes here)

See, I was talkin' to Miz Rubie's on the phone last night ( and talkin' and talkin'... You know, like girls do) and she said something that just pure tickled my funny bone. Oh, it wasn't really funny, funny, but I think that's half the fun in laughing your arse off... There's no rhyme or reason to it.
Anything can set it off.

We were discussing a errrmmmm friend, when Miz Rubie's mentioned the little theme garden that this errrrm friend, had done for her little daycare children.
You know the stuff... a corner of the garden with little ferns and rocks and you put those little plastic dinosaurs all around and Voila! (or you could say Bob's ur Uncle/yeeeehaw or some-such)... you have an instant theme garden.

Anyway, while she was talking about some kind of water theme this person had used in a particular area of the yard, I was busy stuffing my face with semi-stolen Easter basket candy and I may have been distracted a bit. So when she said "seahorses", I thought she had in fact said "fetuses"... and I just lost it.

I started laughing so hard that I couldn't breathe... I was doubled over, my eyes were streaming... flecks of stolen Easter chocolate were shooting from my mouth, the words to the Beatles Ocopuses Garden were running through my head ... and I had to pee my pants so bad, I had to put the phone down and go visit the little girls room.

Picture it.
Rubie's is snorting and wooohooooing her arse off... I'm snorting and woooohooooing my arse off... but if I don't put this phone down right now, I'm gonna have to mop the floor.
So I put the phone down and off to the loo I went... where I made an interesting discovery.

I can not pee and laugh at the same time. At least while seated. Upright, it's obviously somewhat different.

Every time I started to do what I had gone in there for, I started laughing at the idea of a water-themed garden with little sea-horse fetuses growing under bushes all over again...
the words "I'd like to be under the sea, In an octopus' garden in the shade" kept running through my head
...and I just couldn't go for laughing so hard.

Sea.....Wooooooohaha horsehahahh snort snort weeeeeeeehohohohoh! Unhh Unhhh... waaaaahahaha!

I was dyin' there!!

Anyway, to make a long story short ( hey, I heard you say thank God - so don't think I didn't ) we eventually got off the phone (after 231 minutes (Rubie's... I owe ya)) and I started tidying up around the house, so I could go to bed. But I kept starting the wooooahahhahahaseahorsehahaha business all over again.

I eventually got to bed, pulled my book out from under the covers and attempted to read. But I just couldn't do it. I started in laughing my arse off, over and over again ... so rather than attempt to read through teary, watery eyes, I just put the book down, turned off the light and attempted to go to sleep.
Which I eventually did.
But THREE TIMES, I woke myself up, laughing my head off - and had to head for the loo again.

Where the whole business would start all over again. (insert rolling eyes and a heartfelt *sigh* here)

I managed to get through the rest of the night with no problems, woke refreshed and rested and headed to the kitchen to make the coffee. I dropped the spoon, and as I bent over to pick it up, my tummy muscles screamed in protest and I instantly thought "oh my goodness... some thing's seriously wrong with me! Is it appendicitis? A hernia? Some sort of life-threatening prolapse of my non-existent girlie-bits"?

And then it hit me.

It was from laughing so hard for hours straight last night... and I instantly started in whooopwhoopwoooooooooooohahahaa'in, all over again.

Okay, now that it's all written down in black and white, it looks kind of lame.
And it doesn't seem quite so funny anymore. uhnunh hooooounh!!!

Never mind.

I guess you just had to be there.

Drinks are on me, Girls!

Wooo Hooo ! I hit the jackpot ! I got some money refunded to me, that has been causing me huge headaches and months and months of restless, sleepless nights.

It's just soooo good to know that all my dreams and hopes for the future, can now be realized!

Here's a copy of the message I recieved.

( If you use smelling salts, you might just want to have them handy!)

Dear Tatersmama,

" We are depositing 0.09 AUD into your PayPal account to correct a foreign exchange reversal processing error which has now been resolved.

Your transaction was one of a small number of transactions that was affected.

We sincerely apologise for any inconvenience this may have caused you.

We want to reassure you that PayPal takes great care in ensuring that all transactions occur seamlessly and we regret that on this occasion you were affected. We have credited the amount back to you, plus 7.5%, as a gesture of goodwill.

Regards,

PayPal "

WOW ! That's like... .9. something cents !!! Of course, I had to quickly check the currency converter to find out exactly what this now means to me... and here's what I found!
(be still, my beating heart!)

0.09 Australian Dollar = 0.06366 US Dollar
0.09 US Dollar (USD) = 0.12725 Australian Dollar (AUD)

Oh... the dreams that can now be realized!

1. I can buy a dishwasher... Not

2. Pay off my mortgage... Not

3. Get a boob job... Not

4. Buy a paperback... Not

5. Make a down-payment on a new car... Not

6. Buy a candy bar... Not

7. Go in halvsies on a candy bar... Not

8. Get 8 minutes on a parking meter.... Not

9. Invest in stocks, to guarantee a rosey financial future... Not

10. Make some cute, spunky, male stripper very happy... Not


But rather than tell you a mile long list of things I can't do with it...
I'll just tell you want I can do with it.

I can do diddly-squat.
That's it.

But at least it's mine.... ALL mine!

Simply Australian... buy 1 get one free

I just thought y'all might be interested in seeing what we here in Oz see on a daily basis...
And Simply Australian is based in Rainier Washington!

Now remember... the clearance sale prices are 50% !

The one that got me, was the cornflour (cornstarch) on SALE for $2.50 - and the RRP was $4.49!

~~~Update / Edit / Making myself clear-er. (as if!) ~~~

I guess I was so busy getting this post posted last night, that I didn't make myself too clear.
Like I do that anyway, eh? I usually carry on like a headless chicken, but I think I was a little more "headless" than usual... More like a two-headed, headless chicken.

Here in Oz, we don't necessarily pay those prices.... those are the prices for imported goods, and what we're actually charged here, is far less.
Well, maybe not far less... but we can get it cheaper than that.

It's kind of like my beloved Crisco. IF I could find a cheaper, acceptable, alternative here, I would buy it in a heartbeat... but there isn't, so all I can do is dream.
My point was supposed to be... to pay that kind of price for cornflour/cornstarch just seems outrageous, because let's face it... cornstarch by any other name, is still cornstarch, isn't it?

But some of the other items at Simply Australian are reasonably priced... and they sure save me heaps of money when buying gifts for my son's family... To buy a t-shirt or boomerang for my grandsons... well, it's far cheaper to use Simply Australian, than it is to buy it here... and then take out a second mortgage just for the postage!

AND they get to sample the delights of Tim Tams and authentic Arnott's Chocolate Ripple Biscuits (cookies).
Because they're worth it !
Of course they are... they take after their Grummie!

Quick and Easy Aussie recipe... Chocolate Ripple Cake

Chocolate Ripple Cake

This recipe is so quick and easy to put together... and even the kids can make it

( with a little help, of course)

Of course this isn't MY photo, because mine never turns out looking quite this perfect, but no matter what it looks like, it tastes devine!

I have to admit that mine always ends up looking more like just plain chocolate cake, but isn't this photo pretty?



This is the type of cookie you want

Frost or ice your chocolate cookies with a bowl of this,, sandwich them together log or circle fashion, and voila!

Bob's yer Uncle!

(which is just an Aussie term for... errrmmm, Voila!)

Chocolate Ripple Cake recipe

Ingredients:

250 g plain chocolate cookies ( a regular packet of cookies, but NOT chocolate coated though)
500 ml thickened cream, lightly sweetened and beaten until stiff

Directions

Take a cookie and spread the flat side of the cookie thickly with cream ...

and repeat with another cookie.
Sandwich the two you have done together and stand them on a plate.

Keep going with this, until all the cookies are used and you have formed a"log" or a circle of cookies and cream.
Cover the entire log thickly with more cream and cover loosely with cling wrap/Glad wrap before refrigerating for about 6- 8 hours

Decorate with grated chocolate, crushed peppermints, sliced strawberries or just pipe extra cream around the log before serving.

I actually went to all this trouble of writing this all out and then while searching for a chocolate ripple cake photo, I found a wonderful blog from another Aussie - who's done it so much better!

Beyond My Picket Fence

Yes it's true....I was on Captain Kangaroo

And I'll bet you're jealous... right?

No, this isn't a picture of me dancing on Captain Kangaroo...

this is just a photo of me giving you jealous cats

*The BIRD*

Yep, when I was a Brownie (well, I'm pretty sure it was Brownies and not the Girl Scouts) our troop got to go on the Captain Kangaroo Show. I got to meet Captain Kangaroo, and Mr Green Jeans and the whole cast and crew!

I don't remember much about it, other than the very end of the show - and that part will forever be burned into my psyche...

See, I was a mouse of a kid and my biggest goal in life was to hide behind my friends and Troop mates, so that I wouldn't draw any attention to myself. So the Troop leader, in her infinite wisdom, decided that I should be chosen to dance with about 5 other girls at the end of the show.

ME? Dance? I dunno HOW to dance, unless I'm dancin' on my daddy's shoes!
Nooooooooooooooooo! Please... not me! Pick Lacey Latimer! She's a show off!

I vaguely remember coming up with some lame-arse excuse along the lines of
"My mom said I couldn't dance at the end of the show, because I have a compound fracture of my leg, and I wasn't supposed to tell you that, because then I couldn't have come on the bus!!!"
(Okay, I was shy... but I was also precocious as hell!)

But... there was no way out. What do I do? I don't know HOW to dance!
I know! I'll just do the dances that my Sissy and cousin Judy did last summer! I'll do the Freddie or the Mashed Potato!
I'll be cool! I'll be famous! I'll look so boss!

Wiki says:
To do The Freddie, simply stand in place; then, in rhythm with the music first extend the left leg and left arm; then the right leg and right arm. Repeat until the song's conclusion.The dance never achieved great popularity.
THIS is how you do The Freddie !






Needless to say, I bombed. NO one, but NO ONE did the Freddie anymore, and I was left looking like a total geek. I was so stressed and nervous, that I ended up peeing my pants, right there on the stage.

God Bless Mr Green Jeans, who stepped in, took me in his arms like we were going to slow dance, and then "danced" me right off the stage. Where someone took me off to clean me up.

The bus ride home was miserable, with everyone laughing at me and making fun, but you know what?
I just think they were jealous that Mr Green Jeans picked ME to dance with!