The Big Day

Today was the big day: meeting Ana Mercedes, Will's birthmother. She was to meet us here together with S, the searcher who is nothing short of a miracle worker when it comes to finding and connecting with birthmohers.

They arrived promptly at 10:00 am. Jay and Will had been waiting by the gate and Miss M ran in to tell me "they are here". I walked up to meet them and there were lots of hugs all around. I hadn't realised how tense I was until those first few moments were passed and the world was still spinning on its axis.

I don't like to build up anxiety so I had spent a lot of subconscious energy dismissing any "what if" type questions which had arisen over the last few months. Today, looking at Ana Mercedes, holding her hand, felt comfortable and natural and any anxieties I had allowed to build up dissipated instantly.

We sat around the table in our sunny courtyard and talked, asking each other questions, laughing. S's relaxed, confident, friendly yet professional translation made the whole experience much easier than I had anticipated.

Ana Mercedes has the most twinkly eyes and she loves to chat. Knowing what a tough life she has led by anybody's standards makes this a marvel. How does someone live through all that and still smile, laugh, talk openly, open herself up to total strangers from the other side of the world?

After a while Miss M wanted to swim so we moved our entourage to the shade of the tree beside the pool and continued our chatting. Soon it was lunchtime and after a quick discussion we decided the local Italian restaurant was just what we needed.

As the only customers we had the whole second floor area to ourselves, which meant we were both cosy and private. Lunch was ordered and eaten and the talk never stopped.

I have to say Will seemed like a cat that had swallowed the cream, quiet and content. He sat next to Ana Mercedes everywhere we went and was happy for her to hold his hand or rest her hand on his arm or leg. There was a simple, unspoken bond there which broached the language barrier; it just was.

I don't feel any jealousy about this, if anyone is worried on my behalf. We don't own Will; he came to our care through the incredibly mysterious alignment of our fetes. It is what it is. I feel nothing but love and awe and appreciation for Ana Mercedes. He is our son and he is her child; those are undisputable facts. Love is not a jug of cordial which is reduced when poured into multiple cups, there is enough for us all.

There were lots of things said today which can't be reproduced here because they are private between those who need to know. I'm not the secretive type but there is no value in sharing what was discussed today in a public forum.

All I know is that today was a beautiful day, enjoyed by all. Will is happy that he has made a connection with his mysterious "birthmother", somewhat saddened that the same thing wasn't possible with his birthfather (at this point). Knowing Will I'm sure there will be much under the surface processing going on and questions brewing which will pop up at the most unexpected times. He is not a boy who will have a lot of words to say about today's experience but that doesn't mean he isn't thinking about it all.

After lunch we walked all together to Parque Central where we watched Miss M ride a horse around the square. We said goobye to S and her assistant C and walked around a bit more with Ana Mercedes. Then it was time for her to go. It was a simple goodbye: hugs, kisses, tears, smiles. But it was the most difficult part of the day.

I know that as a family we are doing something (what is enough? or the right amount?) to help Ana Mercedes whose life is unimaginably more difficult than ours. But there is still guilt or something like it. I'm not responsible for her life. But I believe her life is entertwined with ours and no matter how hard I try to logic it it still hurts to think we'll be spending more on our take away dinner than she might earn in a week or a month.

So here's to a strong woman who has to fight very hard to survive in life. A woman who has made the toughest of decisions, one of which has allowed me to indulge in the whim of motherhood. Such is life.

Hola from La Antigua, Guatemala

This is our humble abode for the next week. It is a very comfortable two bedroom casa in a small gated compound which is about a ten minute walk from Parque Cental, the hub of La Antigua.

Let's catch up on the last however many hours... I have no idea how many because it could be less than 24 or it could be more than 100... I have lost track of day and night and which way is up.

We departed Sydney on a Virgin Australia fligh at 2:40 pm on Saturday 31 March. It was pretty much a faultless flight; the worst thing I can say about it was that serving a pasta side salad is not a brilliant idea when the main is a pasta or even a Butter Chicken (which was delicious by the way). Great service, great and plentiful food and top notch entertainment system. Big Jay even got double lucky with a seat across the isle from the kids and I and a bulkhead seat with the extra leg room he needs.

So a smooth flight into LAX. The usual crazy long standing around in Customs; finally fresh LA air and freedom. Straight onto a hotel shuttle to the Hilton LAX. There's nothing like the comfort, physical and psychological of a highly rated hotel. When I walk into a lobby of such an establishment I know that all is well with the world; nothing is too much trouble and everything can be fixed with the swipe of a credit card.

The kids were tired and out of sorts, especially Will who had come down with a fairly nasty cold on the flight; a combination of a lingering sniffle, airplane air conditioning and tiredness. They didn't wan to eat so we settled into the hotel room and went down for some lunch.

The Hilton was hosting some sort of US Army event, uniforms everywhere. There's something bigger and better about a US Service[wo]man. They just seem more of everything, more patriotic, more capable, more don't-mess-with-me-mofo, they fill out their uniforms better, they just project an aura which is "more".

After lunch we headed back to our room just in time to stop a brother-sister squabble of jet lagged proportions. Luckily we didn't require the assistance of the aforementioned military personnel, but it was touch and go there for a moment.

The afternoon turned into evening as we lazed about, dozing on and off, watching Cartoon Network and trying not to think about getting on another plane.

At 8:00 pm we cleared out, somewhat sorry to leave our cozy cocoon. Check-in was relatively hassle free, apart from the slightly worrying moment or two when the Delta check-in chick thought Marianna wasn't booked onto the second leg of our flights from Guatemala to Orlando. Mystery solved we proceeded to the Sky Club Lounge for more sitting around doing not much of anything. Decent snacks and a quiet place to hide from the unwashed masses, that's all one requires in a business class airport lounge.

On board, the business class seats were OK but not what I was expecting/hoping for. Not even a footrest... though the seats were wide and reasonably comfy. I couldn't sleep due to seats, turbulance and not wanting to sleep through breakfast. Guess what? No breakfast. It was advertised on our itinerary but didn't eventuate.

Then the pilot is announcing we will be landing in 8 minutes and the beatiful lights of Guatemala City are spread out underneath us. Flying into a city at dawn is special and this was our second dawn landing in GC. Lucky us!

The airport was virtually deserted and we were through baggage claim and customs in minutes. Our lovely driver Mauricio was waiting, waving his sign above the waiting crowd. In seconds we were in his van and driving through the waking streets of GC. The dusty diesel smell was probably the main memory trigger for me. It brought back arriving in that city in September 2000 full of hope and anticipation.

Now we were returning with our 12 year old son, the baby we had first held on that humid September day. He was tired and sniffly but we could tell the city was making an impression on him. He could tell we weren't in Kansas any more.

One of my favourite feelings is driving through an unfamiliar city, straight off a plane, a little dazed and confused... quietly just absorbing the sights, sounds and smells. Allowing my brain to process, admire and file the sensory data for future reference.

We were going to stop at a WalMart on the way to Antigua to stock up on life's little necessities but they were all closed. So we stopped at a smaller supermarket in Antigua and stumbled around trying to choose what we needed using brand recognition and educated guesses.

Mauricio brought us home and we laid down for a brief rest but very quickly all four of us were fast asleep. Waking at 11:30 am I realised I needed to get everyone up and out for lunch or we wouldn't be able to sleep tonight and thus our sleeping patterns would continue to be out of whack. We would also be very tired tomorrow when we are meeting Will's birthmother, Ana Mercedes.

I got the boys up easily enough but Miss M put up an admirable fight, only being enticed out of bed by the neighbours tiny (I am talking TINY, people!) puppy Tamarindo. After a quick chat with our lovely Spanish neighbour Lilith, we emerged into the street and made our way towards Parque Central, where the Holy Week fun was starting to heat up.

Last time we visited Antigua it was quiet, very quiet. Today it was chock full of people; Holy Week is probably the most important festival on the Catholic Guatemalan calendar and we have landed right at the start of it. There were lots of Mayan folk in their colourful clothing, selling goods and also enjoying the carnival atmosphere with their families. The restaurants were all full, some with queues... including Campero Pollo which was our intended lunch stop. The queue was out the door and we didn't have the patience to wait.

We found a quaint, traditional style restaurant across the road and were soon tucking into the most delicious nachos I've probably ever had. I'm going to put it down to the corn chips and the guacamole - both were sensational and just that much different to what we have at home. Yum!

Slowly we made our way home. The streets around Parque Central are being closed off and we found people (families? church groups?) making signs or pictures out of some sort out of pine needles and other plant cuttings in the middle of the street. We couldn't tell what they might be but they are obviously of some sort of religious significance. All will be revealed in the next few days when Holy Week will rev up to full throttle.

Now Will is resting on the sofa, flicking through dozens of tv channels and settling on none. Big Jay took Marianna for a swim and now they've headed back into the centre to get her hair braided and to pick up something for dinner (dare I hope for Campero?).

I'm weary, ready to go to bed but trying very hard to stay up for another 2 or 3 hours. It's now 5:00 pm... if I can stay up until eight and get a reasonable night's sleep maybe my body clock will start to adjust.

Anyway, that's all the dull details so far. Tomorrow will be a big, emotional day. Stay tuned.

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 2

Banana, Rockmelon and Milo Smoothie.

Tastes much better than it looks.

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 1

Tired, relaxed, unfocused.

The first day of a new year.

Just Kids: A Book Review

Just Kids is Patti Smith's autobiographical book about her relationship with the artist Robert Mapplethorpe. It is not particularly satisfying as an autobiography because it skims the surface, leaving me wanting to know more details, hear more about the nitty gritty of their fascinating lives. What it lacks in detail it more than makes up for in emotion.

This book is a deathbed promise realised; a gift of love and respect.

Their relationship, built on a chance meeting in New York City in the late sixties when they were both "just kids", literally starving artists, transcends love, lust, sex, friendship. It is the true embodiment of the term "soulmate", so easily thrown around for anyone one has known for more than five minutes.

This is what really touched me, moved me to tears and emotional pain. I am always fascinated by strong emotional attachment because I don't think I have felt it truly, powerfully since I was "just a kid" myself.

But this book also made me think about my own yearning for an "artistic" life as a teenager. Do all teenagers yearn for a bohemian life of creativity and social freedom? I know I did. But in hindsight my desire for stability was much more powerful than any artistic daydreams I may have harboured. Like Patti, my practical side took control. In her case she was able to balance and find room for both. But it was a different time.

She speaks of the artistic force which drove both her and Robert and it is certainly not something I felt very strongly. This force was everything to them; that they eventually found critical and financial success was more good fortune than pure talent. Many equally talented people fall by the wayside for a myriad of reasons.

I really enjoyed this book, it had a strong emotional impact on me. I haven't been Patti's biggest fan. Apart from loving her collaboration with Bruce Springsteen "Because the night", her "Pissing in a river" from the Times Square soundtrack and the recently discovered "Redondo Beach" from her first album "Horses" I haven't delved deeply into her music. But her story really surprised me, not only is she not who I guessed she might be but she writes beautifully; I was left wanting more yet emotionally both buoyed and devastated.

That syncing feeling

Syncing has been on my mind a lot just lately. Mainly because I just can't get my damned iPhone to sync with my damned work PC. Technology is amazing except when it fucks up and leaves you bemused, confused and downright frustrated. One thing I've learnt though is that one way or another it will get resolved and life will go on.

But that's only one sort of syncing I've been pondering. Human syncing... now that's a much harder thing to achieve. Have you ever considered how difficult it is for any of us to connect, both in the bigger, deeper sense of the word but also just in the day to day to way?

I am sometimes awe struck by how it is that we meet the people who will become our significant others and also our precious friends; how those connections are made is a concept that never ceases to amaze.

Fate. I guess that's what human syncing is. The alignment of the planets so that two people can meet and not just pass each other by in the fast moving stream of our busy lives but acknowledge each other, connect, see their commonalities and develop a desire to explore who that other person is. It's a chemical reaction that is magical and intangible. Why this person on this day and not that person on that day?

But on a day to day basis, with the people we already know, syncing is a different sort of challenge. It's tough being on the same page at the same time. Each day we go through a myriad of different emotions and energies.

You want to talk, I don't. I want to have sex, you don't. I want to stay home at the end of a long week, you want to go out to party. Each day we compromise, we make a supreme effort to sync or we withdraw and push away, the effort to sync beyond us at that moment.

I'm surprised by how much significance the word "sync" has in life. It's not just about iTunes and iPhones. It's about people connecting, and after all, what else is life all about.

Moving forward

It's easy in the day to day organised chaos of our lives to overlook the small things. I'm very guilty of this. We're so busy getting through each day, ticking the multitude of tasks off our mental lists, rushing from A to B and back again, that sometimes we don't even SEE each other anymore.

So it's beautiful when something stops me in my tracks and forces me to focus on my children and see them clearly.

I had such a day last week. Nothing special....an ordinary day. When we got into the car that morning Marianna got in, did up her own seat belt and closed the car door. She's never done that before. It gave me a little jolt; she's growing up. Of course she's growing up but I'm usually too busy to notice. It's so easy to fall into the trap of racing through each day, reacting to the negatives (with my own negatives), putting out the grass fires, meeting my family's daily needs but not really connecting.

The small act of doing up her own seatbelt made me look at my daughter, think about her as the little person she is and who she is becoming. She might drive me to drink most days but she is so bright, so feisty, so brave. She is no pushover and hopefully never will be. She is a little firecracker who will go so very far if she learns to harness her emotions.

That same day Will told me he wanted a mohawk. My instant (unsaid) reaction was "no way". ... and then I remembered who I used to be and what I used to dream about my own future and the biggest wave of pride flooded through me. My baby boy, my fragile, vulnerable boy, who I spent so long worrying about...would he ever walk, would he ever talk... is bravely and confidently facing high school next year and wanting a mohawk.

Before our eyes he is discovering who he is, developing a mind of his own, separating from us, becoming his own person. It is scary for me, there's no doubt about that that. But there's also a huge sense of pride and gratitude and relief. How far he's come!

Almost thirty years ago I dreamed about my very own punk baby and now I have one, sort of. Mohawks are hum drum these days, more Becks than Sid Vicious. But that's ok, it's not the haircut that's the real point. It's what his request represents.

Above all else a parent's job is to help their children become independent in the world, to find themselves and their place. Last week I had a few glimpses of my children's progress along the long and difficult road to adulthood. I don't know what the future holds but I'm filled with optimism and hope and a terrifying amount of love for the little people whose lives have been entrusted to my dubious care.

Today seat belts and mohawks, tomorrow the world.

Bring on the Nanny State

It looks like the anti-smoking pendulum has swung to it's highest extremity (short of a total ban) so the government do-gooders are turning their attention to the next batch of nasties: alcohol, gambling and fast food.

Why stop there I ask you. Do you have any idea how many potentially dangerous activities there are which have no government warnings whatsoever? A myriad of potentially lethal and/or cancer and/or heart disease inducing tasks any one of us could innocently engage in at any time without realising the possible consequences.

So I've come up with some warnings which in my opinion are long overdue:

1) DO NOT have a nap in the middle of this road, you may get run over by a truck or Bob Brown on a bicycle.

2) DO NOT tell your friends about how well your new diet is working for you. Quite possibly this diet will soon be found to be potentially harmful to your health. More than likely your friends will want to stick a fork in your eye which could also be bad for your health. [Guilty on all counts, officer.]

3) DO NOT have a job which requires you to sit at a desk for many hours at a time in front of a PC. You will develop an insatiable desire for milky coffee sucked through a Tim Tam "straw" and the need to check Facebook every 10 minutes; the former is bad for your waistline, the later bad for your employment status.

4) DO NOT have a job which requiers you to do any standing, bending, lifting, moving, using any sort of electrical or non-electrical equipment and/or interacting with other humans; all these things have been found to be dangerous to your health.

5) DO NOT have children and/or spend time anywhere near children; it hasn't YET been proven that they directly cause cancer but they really fuck up your mental health and self esteem.

6) DO NOT watch MasterChef; the corny and completely over the top production style and pathetically stomach churning use of celebrity chefs will cause you to scream obscenities at the tv and fight an overwhelming urge to throw a heavy object at the screen (the former could result in a brain anurism, the later in putting your back out - you have been warned).

7) DO NOT eat or drink ANYTHING. At all. Ever. All food and drink can cause you any number of health problems. It is impossible to tell what is the right amount of any type of food or drink. Apart from making your body sick eating and drinking will also drive you mad as every day a different report appears claiming eating pasta is good, tomorrow it's bad; today salt is good, tomorrow it will be bad; red wine will stop you getting heart disease but it will increase your chances of cancer. So best to avoid it altogether, much easier that way.

8) DO NOT breathe (just to be on the safe side). Air contains lots of bad stuff, pollution, particles of possibly cancer causing materials which haven't been identified yet, farts which will melt the hairs in your nostrils.

I'm no fan of smoking (had a few puffs around the age of 13 but haven't touched the stinky stuff since). I don't drink apart from an occasional glass (or three) of Bella or a cocktail with an umbrella in it while on holidays. I don't gamble apart from a few sweeps tickets for the Melbourne Cup and the odd MultiPick card for the big Lotto draws. But I overwhelmingly resent the creeping Nanny State we are living in. Laws and regulations are aimed at the lowest common denomenator and it is quite simply an insult to our intelligence.

I especially hate the two faced governmental approach; we are happy to take your taxes you smokers, drinkers and gamblers, but we're going to treat you ALL as pathological, rather than accept the reality that only a small number of people have a problem with these habits that seriously effect their lives or health.

Stay out of our lives beaurocrats and "researchers". Life is dangerous, it's risky, it's there to be lived and enjoyed and suffered through; it's not a risk assesment task to be "managed" and controlled.

As you were.

Realisation

I've had a moment of clarity today. My life is no longer "Say Anything" or "Sixteen Candles" or "The Breakfast Club" or even "Reality Bites". It's much more in the neighbourhood of say "Ordinary People" or "Steel Magnolias" and heading towards "Cocoon" and "Driving Miss Daisy".

Hmmm....

Grinding axes

We all have an axe (or a few) to grind. They may be trivial or earth shatteringly important but their relevance is only apparent to us and those who love us.

A terrible experience in a restaurant... An hour and ten minutes on the phone to Qantas with a simple request... The incompetence of a government department in processing the adoption of your children.... How long do you have?

I'm getting to my point. The man who took over the Sydney Harbour Bridge last week does not deserve the fame and relevance he's suddenly surrounded with. I don't know his story: bitter custody dispute, DoCS unhelpful,etc. What's new?

What is driving me nuts is that he is suddenly a media darling instead of just being a very naughty little boy. Maybe it's his military background which gives him an air of authority other nutters don't readily possess. Whatever it is, it just isn't on.

To paraphrase an interview I heard with him on Triple M last week: "oh well you inconvenienced tens of thousands of people but you do have an important point to make". No! There are countless "important points" out there waiting to be made. Are we prepared to disrupt the civil running of society, stressful as it is for the ordinary person, so that each bugger with a problem can have their voice heard?

Yes, life is frustrating, especially when it's not going our way, when obvious injustices are being perpetuated, when simple things just can't get done for a myriad of reasons, mainly human error or incompetence. But that doesn't give us all carte blanche to stop traffic, figuratively and literally.

As always I blame the media for being pathetic brainless morons, nothing more than magpies picking up the brightest baubles. They have made a hero from someone who does not deserve it. They have rewarded bad behavior, somethingng every parent knows not to do. When some nutter causes a civil drama to further their cause in the future I'll know where to lay some of the blame. When you glamourize and validate this sort of "terrorism" you say it's ok to disrupt your community to grind your axe.

And I say it isn't. That's what blogging is for. We all know that.

Random

Why is it most of my best (only) thinking is done in the car? If only I had some magical contraption which would suck out my thoughts and transfer them straight onto blogger. Seriously, it would be profound.

I'm typing this on our new iPad, which is the new addition to our stable of gadgetry. It's cool and fun and will be wonderful on our upcoming trip to the US. It is pure middle class extravagance, that is true. But it allows me to lie in bed, watch Masterchef and update my badly neglected blog. What luxury!

Our trip to NY is now only three weeks away and the excitement is rising. Also the mild anxiety about being ready, work and home wise. How do we make the best of this opportunity without exhausting ourselves and the kids? So far Big Jay, Will and my dad have tickets for the Yankees vs the Red Sox which should be a wonderful cultural experience if nothing else. We've given up on the idea of seeing The Addams Family on Broadway because Nathan Lane is no longer in the cast and he was the main draw card for me. I'm sure we'll find other ways of entertaining ourselves. Carlo's Bakery (of Cake Boss fame) is definitely on the itinerary. I have overdone it lately on the retail therapy so the dream of heavy duty NY shopping has faded a little... though I still harbour a fantasy of wondering the Brooklyn neighbourhood where we'll be staying and discovering sone quirky little boutique which will present me with a magical bag or cardie or pair of shoes which will blow my mind and give me the ultimate NY souvenir.

I'm super busy at work and finally facing the fact that working four days a week just won't cut it. So after many years I'm back to working full time. It's cool, not liking I'm breaking rocks with my bare hands for a dollar an hour. The problem is I'm so easily distracted I don't seem to be achieving all that much. Must try harder.

The kids are great. Will's last batch of testing with the school counsellor has shown considerable progress but we still worry about high school next year. He just seems so vulnerable to me. There are so many sharks out there in the big bad world. Little Miss M is powering on. Dancing is everything right now and she has started having a private lesson each week to prepare for an Estedford she's preparing for. This is on top of the ballet, tap and jazz class she has each week.

Um, energy running low now.... Brain in "sleep" mode. Good night. Will try to write some more over the weekend.

Still here

Still here, dear reader. This is one of those guilt posts where I assure you of my good intentions and confirm that I have neither been abducted by aliens nor committed to the local mental asylum (which is long overdue IMHO).

Just not enough time to sit and gather my thoughts and blog. Plenty buzzing around my head, it's just the process of editing all that into something worth reading which is not happening right now.

So a brief "howdy" and on I go with the school holiday juggle.

Watch this space for something much more informative and entertaining.... really, who am I kidding!

Angry bird

That's me. I'm still angry.... but about something different this time. The arseholes downstairs from us. Keeping me up half the night last night (and for most of last week). It's been the stressful weekend from hell. Big Jay is in Perth and I have had a truckload of stuff to do.

Friday night was the school's Movie Under The Stars night which I was the lead organiser on. It meant a lot of work leading up to the night, a lot of worrying about the night (will it rain? will anyone turn up? will anyone eat the 30-odd kilos of mixed lollies I bought and packed?) and a lot of work on the day and that night. By the time I draged the kids home and collapsed into bed I was shattered.

Up bright and early to drive Will to a soccer game in a suburb I'm not familiar with. Get lost, swear and generally act like an immature spoilt brat. Come home and half lay around, half do lots of housework I don't at all feel like doing.

Get kids in the car to drive to Cronulla so Marianna can participate in half time cheerleading entertainment at the Sharks vs Sea Eagles rugby league game. Drive takes two hours (normally 45 minutes tops) and costs me 10 years off my life. Kids drive me to insanity with constant whining and bickering (at one point while crawling in the traffic I contemplate getting out and just walking until I find someone who can tell me how to enter the witness protection program and never be seen again by anyone I currently know, especially my children).

Finally arrive at the ground, after parking over a kilometre away, just in time for aforementioned cheerleading. Watch and video the performance (nowhere near as good as last year, shit music, shit choreography). Leave.

Come home doubly shattered. Watch the Swans beat West Coast (woo bloody hoo) and collapse into bed. Beyond tired. What happens? I can't sleep because the bozos downstairs (obviously staying as a temporary rental - possibly working at the Easter Show) are sitting on their deck below my bedroom and acting like generally drunk arseholes act - loud talking, loud laughing, loud swearing.

Fuck! Ever time I'd doze off some shithead would bray with drunken laughter; like a sledgehammer to the head. I rang the police at 11:30 but not sure if anything happened (though the nice young constable - I sound like someone's grandmother - assured me they'd send a car around). At 1:15 am I was yet again woken by their noise.

I really hate people and after last night I hope climate change is real (well, of course, it's real, but I mean real in the doomsday way the nutters are predicting) because I want the people downstairs to drown slowly in the rising seas - preferrably while I watch and cheer. I digress.

So after almost no sleep I rise early yet again to get Marianna to birthday party number one by 10:00 am. While she's patting snakes and eating jelly I take Will to visit my grandma in Shady Pines and listen to her complain bitterly that she should still be at home and that she doesn't know why we are making her live there (there's a whole other very very long post right there). Oh joy!

Back to collect Marianna and straight onto her soccer game. She's playing in the under 6s and they don't keep score but I think her team scored 10-0, it was like watching Collingwood play Gold Coast Suns.

No rest for the wicked so we were straight onto the local Aquatic Centre for birthday party number two. Oh GOD!

We finally collapsed home at 5:30. Showers, dinner, blah blah and now I'm sitting her blogging feeling so tightly strung I'm not sure if I'll ever sleep again.

It's the first day of school hols tomorrow and while it's nice to have a break from school routine and I know the kids really need it, for me it means the extra juggle of making sure the kids are looked after and entertained on the days I have to work. It also means a few extra days off work which I can not afford in the sense that I am drowing in work and days away from the office mean falling further and further behind. Fucked by guilt whichever way I go. Oh joy!

Gee, that was cheery, wasn't it. Bet you're glad you stuck through that pile of steaming dreck. So sorry. Something funner next time I hope. Good night.

PS I think this list of complaints comes under the title of what my sister calls "First World Problems". Fuck yeah!

Thermomix and the meaning of life

Yesterday was a very strange day indeed.

It started with a plan to have a Vietnamese lunch in Cabramata with my sister and ended with a Thermomix in my kitchen and another major disaster in the world.

Next week is my birthday, the twenty second anniversary of the my twenty first birthday. My wonderful family (who only very occasionally drive me crazy) got brave this year and arranged a SURPRISE for me. Before I go on, it is necessary to say how difficult a task this was and how highly I rate this achievement. Surprising me is not an easy task for various reasons so I understand how much effort and stress it took to not only organise it but pull it off.

So yesterday I drove out to Warwick Farm to have my car valued for a possible trade-in and, after a couple of rather strange conversations with my sister, arrived home to find her and a strange lady and a large box waiting for me. I would have been less surprised had the box contained a naked Robbie Williams (a gift idea for next year...) but, in fact, it contained a brand spanking-new Thermomix, the kitchen machine of my dreams.

You may remember me coming across this masterpiece of kitchen engineering at the Tetsuya cooking masterclass I attended almost 18 months ago. It blew my mind then and I've been coveting it ever since. The price tag put it in the must have/can't have category and it has remained the glittering pinnacle on my wishlist.

And now it's here, in my kitchen, twinkling at me across the kitchen as I write; sitting smugly on my benchtop as if it's always been there. It is occupying the space where my KitchenAid lived until two weeks ago when it had to go to the KitchenAid doctor for a strange alignment problem it had developed. I very much feel like I'm cheating on my husband with Robbie Williams (at least I imagine what that must feel like, I'm willing to put the feeling to the test should the opportunity ever arise...). The KA will hopefully come home soon and my two best kitchen buddies will need to learn to share my love and the bench space.

However, I can now turf my kitchen scales (the TM weighs, you can reset it after each ingredient and then measure the new ingredient - i.e. 200g flour, reset, measure 100g sugar), my blender, my brand new ice cream machine, my stick blender.

The slightly manic Thermomix lady, the gorgeous Lynette, swooped into my kitchen, unloaded the TM onto my bench and within half an hour had produced a yummy soft serve style dessert called a Berry Dream, or some such, a bread dough, a cereal/crumble mix/topping type thing with coconut, apple, dates and nuts (yum!) and a risotto. She then swooped out again leaving me shell shocked (in the best way) and totally bewildered.

There are no sensible words to describe how excited and happy I feel to own such a wonderful piece of kitchen gadgetry. So lucky to have a husband who actually listens to me (who knew?!) and a family who steps up financially and logistically to make my Thermomix dream come true. Well done Big Jay, Jules, mum, dad, linesmen, ballboys.

But then I turn on the evening news and watch the horror unfolding in Japan and my excitement subsides somewhat. Watching the giant tide of water sweep over the landscape, smashing everything in its path, made me put our tiny human lives into proper perspective. Our little, busy ant lives are so important to us but so insignificant to Mother Nature and the march of time. I was overwhelmed with a monsterous tiredness as I watched and went to bed early, heavy with the knowledge that everything doesn't mean anything.

This morning the cloud has cleared. I awoke early, saying goodbye to Big Jay who left for his annual Coffs Harbour golf trip. Turning on the news momentarily brought back the depression (there should be a public service announcement if they're going to make you listen to JGull's dulcet tones at 5:30 am) but the realisation that Hawaii was still above water cheered me up somewhat. A cup of tea and a slice of the freshly baked Thermomix bread (toasted with avocado) brought up my spirits some more.

I've spent a couple of hours surfing the www in search of Thermomix recipes, blogs and communities and have found many. My TM, in future to be known as Theo (in honour of a very cool Mod I knew circa 1984), is smiling at me. A new culinary adventure begins.

Fawlty Feb: Days Twenty Six - Twenty Eight

Um, sorry, I give up. It's February 28, the official last day of Fawlty Feb. I have fallen over on the job with this one. Just too much on, too many thoughts, useful and otherwise, filling up the grey matter.

I've tried but I just can't squeeze out another funny. I'm hot and bothered and exhausted. A bus knocked the back end of my car off as I was driving Will to Learning Links today, adding to what was already a stressful afternoon. We're both fine, the car is driveable, it was just one of those stupid, time wasting, slightly surreal moments.

Now I'm sitting here trying to tidy up the end of Fawlty Feb, which seemed liked such a fun idea at the time. I'm reading the script and the words are melting together in front of my eyes. All I really want to do is flop on the lounge and watch an episode of Come Dine With Me, my perfect veg out program.

So please forgive me, dear reader/s, for not completing this odd little challenge.

Today marks three months until we head to the big apple so our busy lives will ramp up just that little bit more as we start to prepare in earnest.

Here's to March, to Autumn, to cooler weather, better sleep, better blogging, to turning 43, to the four thousand events we will be attending in the coming month, to fun, to survival.

Good night.

The Moment

I've been thinking a lot lately about how difficult it is to live in the moment. This moment. Of course we're all actually living each moment, physically we're in each and every moment; there is no escape and no option. But mentally, emotionally... I am rarely in this moment.

Is this the human condition? Is this our normal state? Maybe all this talk about living in the moment is nonsense. I suspect it is, or at least partially so.

When I contemplate the subject I realise exactly how much of my time is spent planning for the future or examining the past. There are so few instances of the present being the main focus. When I'm cooking or eating a meal I'm often thinking about the next one or the special one I'm planning for the next day or the next week. When I'm dressing the kids for school I'm thinking about a myriad of school related issues or what I must remember to get done at work that day.

Holidays are one of the best examples of this: I will argue for the affirmative that the most enjoyable thing about family holidays is the planning and the memories. I love planning holidays; the daydreaming about how relaxing, exciting and fun they are going to be. It is a particular sort of savouring which no reality can ever live up to. Thinking back on holidays is also wonderful because the human mind is very good at editing out the bad stuff (or at the least turning it into a hilarious story) so that you are left with mental images of the great stuff sans the annoying stuff.

Let's be honest, most family holidays involve a lot of annoying stuff. No-one can tell me it's fun to hang around airports, entertain small children on never-ending flights, watch as your child refuses to eat an overpriced meal in an overseas restaurant. Yet my brain deletes all these scenes of irritation and keeps only scenes which involve me lounging around in the infinity pool with a Pina Colada in hand. Thus constantly making me yearn for the next holiday.

I've just finished reading Emma Donoghue's Room about a kidnapped woman and her five year old son living in isolation in "Room". I wouldn't say it's the best book I've ever read but it does give you food for thought. One of my trains of thought was about how much distraction we have in our lives; our lives are choc-full of stuff, so much of it... no wonder it feels like life is going by so fast. When these things are taken away, when people are isolated from all that and put in a restricted space with almost nothing to distract from the simple act of living... life is very different.

There is no moral to this story. I'm just musing on the tangle of thoughts floating around the void between my ears. I don't know the answers or if there are any or if we need any. I'm mostly happy to accept life for what it is. I don't think I can force myself to be in the moment any more or less by thinking about it. I just think the phenomenon of generally dwelling on the past or projecting into the future is really interesting. Is this what the idea of meditation all about? Is this why I find it impossible to meditate or often even sit still for very long? Have I unconsciously trained my mind to be a pinball machine ball, constantly bouncing from one idea, project, task to another? Hmmmmm.....

Non Fawlty Feb Stuff

Um, not so much to report.

Have survived the first two weeks of school OK. Kids (and us) are coping well with the busy schedule.

Marianna is going to drop piano because, despite having a talent for it, she won't practice and thus won't improve and thus I just don't want to pay $30 a lesson for something that's not going anywhere. She's only five, so there's plenty of time to give it another try a couple of years down the track.

Have been eating well but have only lost about 200 grams; hardly worth mentioning. Maybe it'll be a slow build up and then - wham - 5 kg gone overnight. I've bought Blackmore's Metabolism Advantage because I'm always looking for the "magic" thing. Will get back to you on how useful it proves to be.

I made Empanadas today. Have been meaning to for ages. They are my favourite Colombian dish. La Cumbia, the Colombian restaurant at Kensington, makes wonderful Empanadas. I happened to be passing there yesterday and dropped in for some of the special cornmeal you need to use for the Empanada dough. Today I made some and they were delicious, especially with the green onion, tomato and corriander aji I made to spoon over them. Damn it, why are deep fried things so yum?

Well, that's about it. Not much happening around here. Until next time.

Weight for me

I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions. I gave all that stuff a bash twenty odd years ago but these days I'm much too cynical to even contemplate such nonsense. But this year, as I look ahead at what will be an incredibly busy, exciting, wonderful and stressful twelve months, I feel like I have to re-assess myself a little to get through it all with sanity, sense of humour and all currently functioning relationships in place.


Weight is a reasonably important issue for me right now. I'm one of those people who isn't vastly obese but on the plump side, always have been, always will be. In the last few years I have come to accept that there is an approximately 5 kg weight range where I feel great at the bottom end and not so great at the top end. Six months ago I was at the bottom end, right now I'm at the top end.


Just feeling bloated and generally unhappy with myself is one thing, certainly an important thing, certainly enough for me to get motivated to do something about it. But there is an extra factor this year which means I have exactly 4 months from today to get to the bottom end of my weight range. That equals 1.25 kg per month I will need to shed. Doh!


On the 28th of May we'll be boarding a plane, a United Airlines plane (RHCP help us), to New York. A couple of weeks ago I purchased an Alannah Hill dress to wear to the special event we'll be attending (a dress which may, or may not, have cost the gross national product of a small African nation - including the Sale discount). It is a gorgeous dress and looks good on my, shall we say curvaceous? figure. But there isn't enough Spanx or baby oil in the world to squeeze me into that thing if I keep piling on the kgs. Not to mention that we'll have a full week of eating our way around NYC/Brooklyn before the big day (with a must-do stop at Carlo's Bakery in Hoboken, NJ where I'm sure numerous calories will be consumed - I'm starting with the Crumb Cake and working my way down).


Any old how, I have four months to get rid of 5 or slightly more kgs. Sounds easy but really isn't. The Green Coffee Big Jay and I loved last year has now been banned for containing some unlisted substance which increases your risk of heart attack and/or stroke (doesn't everything these days?). I know that with our busy schedule eating well is going to be a very major issue and one which I must stay on top of this year. I have been trying to decide whether I should join a weight loss "program" to help me. I did Weight Watchers about 12-15 years ago and found it predictable but a good support and motivation for me to lose weight. However, I simply don't think I can squeeze in even a single weekly meeting this year (and the on-line version just won't work for me because I really need that face to face accountability of a real life weigh in with a real life person giving me the hairy eyeball about my 200g weight gain).


Apart from trying to stick to a sensible diet (which is simply so difficult because I love to cook and bake) I am hoping to find a miracle pill/drink/toxin which will just put us off eating - just like the Green Coffee did. Any sensible suggestions will be gratefully accepted. I know - exercise would help - but apart from an early morning walk a few times each week I can't see what else I can squeeze in (and stick to).


The other thing I will need to be this year is get and stay organised. I am generally an organised person, more or less. I'm not super lazy or super disorganised but there is big room for improvement. I have never done the "pack the school bags the night before routine" but this year I will need to.

I will also need to find a fool proof way of getting little Miss M out of bed at a sensible time each morning (i.e. before 8:30 am). I have already had a stern conversation with her about being co-operative in the mornings and about giving me her breakfast order post haste each morning and sticking with it (as opposed to the usual morning routine which goes something like this: Miss M gets out of bed grumpy after numerous requests and threats, she may or may not get dressed, she may or may not tell me what she wants for breakfast, she may or may not eat what she asked for, she may or may not demand some other form of breakfast as we're about to walk out the door already late). The problem is she is just too heavy to carry out to the car if she's in the middle of a temper tantrum so sometimes I have to cave in to her ridiculous requests just to get us all into the car and heading to school and work. I hate doing it but what's the solution? Like diet advice any useful suggestions on raising a strong willed, too smart child would be gratefully, nay desperately, accepted.

Or failing that, if you know where to buy tranquiliser darts suitable for small children, please pass on the info. Thank you very much.

Another year rolls on

Monday marks the start of another school year, more than January 1, it's the official start of the year if you are a parent. For me January sort of floats by, doing enough work to keep things rolling on that front, but equally hanging out with the kids. I'm not a "let's get out the craft box and make a rocket out of this old box and some crepe paper" sort of mother. I'm a "let's go to [insert name of child friendly activity/venue here]" sort of mother. To be honest these holidays they have been taken out for lots of fun days by my mum, my sister and my dad. I've actually seen it as my job to ensure they have some "boring" days around the house so that they don't come to expect everyday to be an outing day during the holidays. But even boring days usually involve time down at the pool and/or the park and/or Wii and/or friends over for a play. So not quite the boring days I had as a kid when I would just hit the tennis ball against the back wall at home for hours on end or read on my bed for hours on end. Good times.


Today I have started thinking about the year ahead now that the official start of the year is only a few days ahead. After always saying I didn't want my kids to be over-scheduled I have ended up with over-scheduled kids and thus and therefore over-scheduled parents.


At this point our weeks are going to look like this:


Monday: Will has Learning Links school age program (for children with learning difficulties) from 4 to 6 pm... at Peakhurst which is somewhere between 30 and 60 minutes drive away (depending on traffic) from his school and my office. This will involve me picking him up from school at least 10 minutes early to ensure we get there on time and my dad picking up Marianna from school and her waiting at the office until Big Jay can collect her at 5-ish to take her home.


Tuesday: Marianna's piano lesson (if we can reschedule - it was Wednesday last year).


Wednesday: Marianna's ballet lesson.


Thursday: Marianna's jazz and tap lessons. Will has Scouts.


Friday: The Holy and Blessed Day of St Nothing. The day I don't work and the kids don't have any activities. Which means I run around all day getting all those chores done which don't get done the rest of the week and then we come home and collapse with a take away dinner and a movie.


Saturday: Will is starting soccer, at the ripe old age of almost 12, which means Big Jay (or occassionally yours truly) will be driving him all over the countryside for games.


Sunday: [no rest for the wicked] Miss M has also decided to do soccer so I will be driving her all over the countryside for games.


Somewhere amongst that they will both have after school soccer practice.


Let's not mention the eleven Sydney Swans home games between March and August, the assorted Sharks games Big Jay tries to get to plus assorted birthday parties, school functions, concerts* and various other events which pop up on a very regular basis. Oi vey!

*March seems to be concert month this year. We're going to see Billy Connolly and Tim Minchin, I'm taking the kids to see Weird Al (I take full responsibility for converting them), I'm going to see Neil Diamond with my friend C on the same night Big Jay is going to see Santana and I'm taking my mum and sister to see Missing The Bus To David Jones which by all accounts is a musical about old people in nursing homes... and doesn't that sound hilarious. Apart from all that Big Jay is going away for his annual golfing pilgrimage to Coffs Harbour in the middle of March and we have to squeeze in some type of familial celebratory function for my birthday.

Sorry for boring you, dear reader/s, with the trivialities of my life but this cyber document is also my journal and must include, apart from my deep and insightful musings on the greater life questions, the details of my life which I hope to look back upon one day, as I kick back at Shady Pines, and laugh and laugh....

Tidying up 2010

The last week of 2010 ended in the usual way.

The birthday of Baby Cheeses was celebrated with too much eating on our deck with family and friends. The weather was gorgeous, leading me to go through a little bit of guilt as half of our country is flooded and the other half was scortching (a land "of droughts and flooding rains" indeed), not to mention Europe and parts of the US which were frozen.

Nothing to be done about it but open gifts, eat many more prawns and oysters than is strictly necessary and gaze in wonder at the 10kg ethically raised ham.

Speaking of gifts I can now proudly confirm I am the owner of a WeeSing Robbie Williams for Wii game. After a couple of glasses of Bella and a couple more lychee martinis I may have tortured entertained our guests with a spirited rendition of Something Beautiful and Rock DJ before their pained expressions forced me to accept that too much of a good thing can be a bad thing.

There was also some gorgeous Pandora earrings and a new charm under the tree from my very generous family. A fantastic new glass mixing bowl for my KitchenAid from my sister's main man M (who is now forever more known as the Gift Whisperer). A fabulous new Sheridan quilt cover set and pillows from mum.

The Entire Beast cookbook by Chris Badenoch (from the first series of Australian Masterchef) which is a book I've been coveting since I first watched Chris cook on the show (who can forget his Roasted Half Pig's Head?). I have to say that this book is worth the price of admission if only for the fabulous, darkly quirky styling and the great Introduction by Chris which really resonates with me. The recipes themselves are simply an extra bonus. Thank you JB for this special gift.

Lots of other bits which have escaped me right at this moment. As always I was very spoilt as was everyone in the family. We're a generous bunch, if I do say so myself.

Boxing Day entailed more entertaining, more eating, more gift giving and receiving... as well as a game of Sticky Wicky (a cricket game invented by one of the families at our school, so I'm giving them a plug). Despite the heat and my general abhorrence of anything cricket related it was really fun and even mum had a go. We cooled off in the pool to finish off a really great day.

The Monday public holiday was spent relaxing (a little), cleaning up from the two prior days and getting ready for more entertaining. That evening Big Jay's birthmum, uncle and friend came for dinner (as well as his brother, SIL and their little son who were here for the whole holiday period). So yet more cooking, cleaning and overeating. Let the good times roll.

Tuesday we hit the city for some sale shopping (I'm nothing if not a glutton for punishment) with my gorgeous, super stylish SIL and my best ladies C and M. Finishing with a big family dinner (all the dads and kids joining us) at Wagamama at King Street Wharf. The big surprise for the evening was bumping into a friend from the dim dark past fondly remembered as the Fitzroy Street Squat days. Mark (aka Woody) has certainly made something of himself - not that you would have predicted that back in 1982 - and now has a gorgeous wife, four kids and an important job with the Bank of America. Go figure!

So where are we? Yes, Tuesday the 28th of December. I worked the next two days (oh, the bliss of a quiet office, a nice cup of tea and no meals to cook for the hoardes).

Friday Big Jay was working and I wasn't so I took the kids and our visitors to Paddington and Woollahra to visit Victor Churchill (it's like porn for carnevores) and some more fashion for the SIL. We finished with a late lunch at the Seafood Markets (note to self: avoid Doyle's at all costs... they should be embaressed by the crap they dish out, have been coasting on the name for too long now).

Which brings us to NYE. When Big Jay came home from work we settled in for some eating, drinking and fireworks gazing on the deck of the apartment his brother and SIL had rented in the building next door to ours. Their apartment was on the top floor and while the apartment itself was quite ordinary the deck was magnificent. It was not only huge but afforded 320 degree views of the Sydney skyline, including the city (or at least some of it, the main part of the Harbour Bridge was obscured by some buildings). Anyway, we were able to see not only the big city fireworks but also the many and assorted smaller ones going on all around the greater Sydney area. Cool!

New Year's Day we sat around the pool all morning which was not only gorgeous and relaxing but meant I finally finished Val McDermid's The Mermaids Singing (the first of the Tony Hill novels which became the Wire in the Blood series). While I like her writing the book didn't really blow me away because I am so familiar with the show and particularly with Robson Green as Tony Hill and I guess there really wasn't any suspense factor because I knew what happens in the end. I'm just glad I finally got through it because it feels like I've been reading it for years. So then I started straight onto Thousand Splendid Suns (love my Kindle, finish one book, download another) which is the book for January for the local book group I'm thinking of joining.

Oops, just realised I'm technically into 2011. Better stop now. Some photos to post and then let's roll in the new year. Twenty Eleven will be a big one.