So about 20 years ago I told The Artist that if he liked it then he better put a ring on it. It certainly was about bloody time as I was not getting any younger at the ripe old age of 26 (or so I thought). The Artist was slightly riper than me but was not in any hurry I might tell you. So I put a ring on that too.
I think it takes a while to figure out this marriage thing. It’s not for the faint-hearted. Much of the time I feel like the Secretary General of the United Nations – the good Ban Ki Moon could learn a thing or two from little Barbie Ki Sunshine over here. And as I was writing this The Artist walked in with the dog and he was holding pastries and coffee.
I took one look at him and started to cry. Because love. (And also because I have been a complete nightmare for the past week due to some added work stress and he still brought coffee and pastries!!!).
And because he said he also almost bought me another golden retriever. I sent him this photo on the weekend and told him what my version of heaven looks like.
He takes my heaven seriously. But we’re not getting a new goldie just yet – sanity has prevailed over my crazy heart.
I can’t for one minute begin to start detailing all of the past the 20 years. I can only hope that the journey continues with as much laughter and love.
Happy anniversary babe.
Love and light
Earlier this evening a friend posted this on Facebook “Tired and emotional. This might not be a great weekend for my husband”.
At the time I felt sorry for the poor bloke and marvelled at how balanced I was feeling.
An hour later I was texting a friend and catching up on the week. She was excited because she is off to Hong Kong tomorrow. And Boom! (Quote).
The Artist had the grave misfortune to ask me what’s up? referring to who I was conversing with via text. And I crumpled and started to cry.
Because you see, two of my best friends are going to be based in Hong Kong in a few months time and I’m not going to be there to be part of it. Long story short, they are two of my favourite people in the world, they have never actually met each other but I cannot tell you how much each means to me. The one is my total rock and has been since before we had boobs. The other makes me laugh almost every.single.day. And both accept me without judgement.
I have put them together in a professional sense and I know that they are going to love each other. And I am so sad for me that I have geographically lost them both yet I am so happy for them that they are going to have each other.
I have researched that there is a flight out of Sydney at 3.45pm on a Friday and another that can bring me back by 7.15am on a Monday. Because if they’re both there, I cannot possibly go for long without them.
To my friend who is embarking on her new journey in Honkers I give to you this Irish blessing – even though we are not Irish but we drink like them:
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields
and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.
To my friend already there – I am sending you our sister from another mother.
Look after each other ladies, it’s going to be wonderful and magical and fantastical.
Love and light (and tears as I write this)
Today I farewell a friend that has served me well.
My little batman car , so named by my friend Kim who screeched – you got a batman car – black and everything – five years ago.
She has heard many a difficult conversation in her cockpit on my travels between work and school pick up and drop off.
She’s listened to my boom boom music for five straight years at mega volume without a complaint.
She’s heard me rant and curse and scream and use language not fit for human ears that would make a lesser being shrink.
She’s let me cry my heart out in peace.
She’s been my calm in any storm. I can slip into the driver seat, exhale and drive until the forces of the universe have been restored to their rightful place without me having to physically kill anyone.
She also knows how to take care of herself. Managed to bounce off a pole one morning without cracking a bumper – made of tough stuff that one.
While the body is metal and rubber and all things replaceable, man, a lot of stuff went down in that car.
She’s gone to her new owner, a young whipper snapper from Woollongong. He’s been warned about no hanky panky and to drive carefully at all times.
And so a new journey begins.
Hasta la vista baby – stay safe.
Love and light
I have been under the impression of late that there has been some form of misunderstanding in my house. You see, I started my blog and I think that the Chinese whispers (damn those echo’s) led the Big O to think that I was referring to something I was doing for WORK! And yes, a blog can be work but my blog is like the most fun I’ve had in ages. To be fair I do write a bit for a work blog with the help of the very very talented Shelley but Grant me the serenity isn’t work. Not at all.
Because I am sometimes baseline childish and have a bad sulking habit left over from childhood, when I started GMTS I asked The Big O to read my work and he brushed it off. The sulks set in big time. For a year.
A few weeks ago when we were vacationing we established the difference between the two blogs and that there were in fact, two blogs.
However, this has resulted in The Big O requesting a name change. For all of you born way back when, when we read Archie comics, you will remember a character called Big Ethel.
The Big O feels that association is too close, in his mind anyway. I actually thought it was the association with Oprah that might send him over the edge , but apparently not. It’s Big Ethel.
So we are having an official renaming ceremony here at GMTS. It will be alot loss painful than his original naming ceremony many decades ago when he lost a piece of himself. (The Piep Sny for my Saffer friends also known as a Bris or circumcision)
The real question is, what do I call him?
I refer to him on my likes page as Arnold because he has that Terminator thing going on and when we were first going out and it was playful like, he would pin me down and lick my face until I declared him the King and Savior, Master of the Universe, second to none. On second thought perhaps I should call him God? Jesus is already taken (a million times over in Mexico) and The Big O likes a good short haircut – isn’t into that Byron Bay look at all.
He naturally doesn’t like Mr Barbie and I think The Accountant is somewhat cold?
When ever we go anywhere he is often told he looks like the lovely Jamie Durie, so I could call him Jamie?
And he is wicked in the garden. He does a good balcony clean-up too. Did I neglect to mention that the Sweet Sweet Boy cleaned up the pigeon poop? He definitely won’t like Sweet Sweet Boy.
So I guess it’s a toss up between Arnold and Jamie.
I just chucked a coin and tails you lose Jamie – Arnold it is.
I am married to Arnold. Barbie and Arnold. Arnold and Barbie. Not sure this is ringing right………………I think this is the part where I ask someone to Grant me the serenity. I fear this is not the end of this. That is all.
Someone posted a great message on facebook yesterday. It went like this:
At this time of year, with love and Christmas cheer abounding, I’m not going to rise to the occasion and actually run a list. You know who you are, you fuckers. For some of you, I already know what’s coming and I hope you’re ready. The universe responds to evil and it willbite you in the arse as the door hits you on the way out. Enough said. To those of you lovelies who have made this year sunshiny and wonderful and have made me smile, even when I wanted to cry – I love you more than you know and you have a friend for life.
Some special mentions with love are necessary though. The Big O – who is systematically burning his very own hole in the ozone layer above our house. I will appreciate the sub-zero aircon one day when I am menopausal. Promise.
Miss9 – to answer your question, your money is not with Westfield or Medibank. It’s with Westpac. Your father’s money is primarily with Westfield. Miss12 – for the love of God I’m begging for mercy. I’m not ready to be the mother of a teenager. And I’m not allowed to bash you for your mood swings or lock you in a cupboard for a few hours. Because therapy is expensive and ongoing. Your father would prefer that we spend his money at Westfield. (refer to point above)
The MomandPopShop – again, for the love of God I’m begging for mercy. I knowyou don’t have early onset Alzheimers, so stop pretending.
To Villa Maria and Absolut – thank you for providing some much needed support at 5pm most weekdays.
The crew at the gym (including our beloved Mad Mel) – you ladies rock. And it’s a tough thing to do at 5.30am. You seriously rock.
To shop assistants everywhere. The customer is queen. Think the people at Napolean Perdis might have learnt this the hard way yesterday when they “dissed”my friend Kat. Merry Christmas morons, the people at Lancome thank you, to the tune of $400.
To those I am playing Word with Friends with – I am completely crap. However, I will spend the next four weeks of my vacation studying the game, inside out and back to front. “Klonimous” – get ready for 2012. I will beat you one day, yes I will. And last but not least, to the crazy team at the office. The Big O does not understand the amount of time we keep in contact with each other outside of work. I have tried to explain to him that the family that plays together stays together. He thinks Words with Friends is pushing it (see above again) and is worried that you think I don’t have a real life. Both he and I assure you that I do and that in my real life I play Scrabble, old school style, with the family. Sometimes I even win. All bases covered I think.
On that note, I hope that Santa and American Express provide you with all that you need over this festive time and that no airline goes on strike to bugger up travel arrangements for much needed holidays. JetStar – I’m looking at you to keep it clean over the next few weeks. Thank you in advance. Merry Merry – Christmas, Chanukah – whatever floats your boat. Be good to yourselves and all those around you.
I’m not sure where to start with this post because the past week has been one of those when your world rocks a bit on its axis. But even when you don’t have a modicum of calm left in your body and mind and you repeatedly eye the 9mm attached to the belt of the security guard at work, there is always something to be gained by the experience.
And this time it was Miss12 doing the teaching.
Someone that we both considered to be a very good friend – they had been together through pre-school had quietly not invited her to a big party she was hosting at her home.
I know that at 12 years old these things happen. Hormones, jealousy, bitchy little girls – it’s all part of the growing up process. Like having your heart broken.
And before you get me wrong, I’m not one of those parents who expects her child to be invited to the opening of an envelope. But this was kind of a big one for her. And I think partly the shock was the deception of it all. She interacts with this friend regularly and not only was this done behind her back but when the fact came to light, her friend didn’t have the courage to come clean, and lied. Social media being the voyeur that it is blew the whole charade up four days later.
And with Miss12 crying in a heap on the floor at 9pm on Thursday night, I had murder in my heart.
So, I ranted for a good few days – said terrible things. Because I knew how hurt she was.
And at the point where I was thinking about making my displeasure known (not with a 9mm, by the way), I learnt something from my daughter.
She sat me down and said, “Mom – we’re in a small environment. I don’t want any trouble. If we make a big deal out of this I’m going to have to handle people gossiping and I don’t want to go through that. I have to get through the next few weeks and then it’s going to be all over and I never have to see her again”.
Standing ovation. Long-term thinking. And an ability rise above.
Alot more powerful than grabbing that 9mm in a purple rage.
I learn from my child. Or perhaps I have taught her well.
Either way, I hope that whatever joy her friend and her friends parents gained by hurting Miss 12 like this was worth it.
I doubt it was.
Naomi over at Seven Cherubs has encouraged me to take part in the Happiness Project. You can read more about it by following the link.
To cut a long story short, every day starting April 10 I recorded one thing about the day that made me happy.
I hope that this makes you think of one thing each day that makes you happy – even when it’s been a shithouse of a 24 hours………..
Awesome toast and coffee at The Grumpy Baker – and Miss8 played great soccer.
Lunch with the legend Leanne Moss (aka Barbie Candy) – a girl’s BFF, even if she’s sort of young enough almost to be my daughter 🙂
Meeting with inspiring young man who is driven to succeed – good to know there’s hope for the next generation
Kids made most beautiful pottery items at holiday camp – they are sweet and artistic – a mother can dream
A day working from home. True Bliss…………………
It’s Friday. That. Is. All.
Don’t judge me but I luuurveddddd the Justine Bieber movie.
Lunch with mom and dad – so good to be together.
Last day before 8 days, no bread – stuffing myself with carbs – will make any girl happy!
No work and I pull off an entire traditional meal making stuff called “charoset” from scratch. Feel like a genius Masterchef type.
There’s nothing like a good I told you so, to lift the heart.
The Twitterati made me smile today, and laugh.
The consumption of Easter Eggs is a happiness in itself – those Cadbury people outdid themselves this year. Joy!
An amazing evening with old old friends fromIsrael– there are no words to describe how good it feels to be with the familiar when you’re really 10,000 miles from home.
Puzzle-mania has struck our family – and I am genius at it.
Easter Monday – day in bed. First time this year. And kudos to the creater of the Malteser Bunny.
I can start eating bread again at sundown. Never has a pizza tasted this good. Seriously.
School holidays are over. And I survived. Enough said.
Attended Kerri Sackville’s book launch and met some beautiful Tweeps. Made my week/month/year.
I don’t have pneumonia, just a bad chest infection – this is something to be happy about. Apparently…….
Spin class – uber happy to be sweating it out on a Saturday morning with my riding crew.
Shopping at Westfieldin the City and found the perfect black daggy t’s from oneteaspoon. And the new food court on Level 5 rocks.
Went to launch of Monday Morning Cooking Club (@MMCCChickie) book launch. Had good old fashioned goss with mom in Miss 12’s class. It’s good to have a “bitch” every now and again.
Book Club with my girls, good food, good coffee, good company.
Miss8 swimming squads in new pool – Olympic size and she was like Thorpie – except she’s a small girl.
Nothing siginificant happened today – sometimes there’s happiness in that.
Lost weight at the Diet Nazi. I live to see another day.
Found a Mona Lisa puzzle at Peter’s of Kensington – doesn’t get any better than this! (I hear you all groaning – by the way. And stop rolling your eyes.)
Farewell cocktail party for uber important work person. Went flawlessly and managed to avoid a Loser of note. Many thanks to the Human Shield (even if he didn’t know it).
A day full of meetings got cancelled one by one. Sometimes happiness is sitting (hiding) in your cubicle in your office.
Spent the afternoon facepainting hundreds of kids at Randwick Race Course. Children are beautiful and make life worth living.
Naomi at Seven Cherubs – thank you for making me take the time to find something happy in each day. Sometimes when 8.30pm rolls around and you’ve been up for over 15 hours – it takes effort to think back and find that one thing. But there is always one, even if it’s just the taste of chocolate.
Love and light people xxx