Blog

I’m Slowly Taking Over The World

You guyssssss.  I can’t believe I didn’t tell you.  I was on a podcast.  Seriously.  I was.  I was interviewed by the coolest couple CJ and Ash from The Lil Moments.  The Lil Moments https://www.facebook.com/thelilmoments/ is CJ and Ash’s business where it’s all about self care, mental health and why is it important.  It’s a podcast series called What Is Family.  The series interviewed, mostly Mum’s who run their own businesses, juggle raising their kids and their family. You know, the usual Mum Life events and the juggling of everything.  Ash and CJ ask, I feel one of the most important questions in a persons life.  Well, maybe not the ‘most important’ question.  But certainly a very important question.  What is self care to you and what does it mean?  That was the question and the reason why CJ and Ash made the podcast.  After listening to the other amazing ladies that were in this podcast series I think I was the only one that had teenagers so made it for more fun because as you know, I like to keep shit real when it comes to raising children and teenagers, hopefully you enjoy my humor.  

I’m not bias, but you’ll love it.  We all laughed alot, you could tell I was nervous at the start, but I eased into it and by the end I didn’t want it to finish.  There is an extended version of and lots of different things were discussed.  That episode is more fun than the first, it’s not up yet I’ll let you know when it is. The podcast series is on both Apple and Spotify.  Either Search What Is Family or follow this link. https://open.spotify.com/episode/0HXBr81lXoTTvE7eTzoH1T?si=b70OJkG7QKCBc37LqqFPRQ&nd=1

Obviously listen to my episode first, that will give you a feel for the other ladies. Oh and leave a review and subscribe.  Then email me or comment or send me a message on Instagram.  Sharing is caring remember. 

Something else that has happened recently.  I am an award nominee.  Can you believe it?  I can’t.  The awards are run by Roar Success.  I’ve followed Roar Success for a while now.  I remember seeing their socials last year when they had their awards and all the winners.  I thought that would be cool to win.  I didn’t think about the actual work you have to do to be part of it.  When I say work, I mean answering questions about yourself, your business and why you would like to win an award.  That bit was a bit daunting, I was overthinking it too much.  By the time I answered the second question I got into a rhythm and it came easy. I may or may not have left it to the last minute, in my defense that just means I had more time to think about all my answers.  I work well under pressure, most times when I do something under pressure it’s usually at the last minute.  It’s a skill now, seeing as though I seem to leave things to the last minute a fair bit.  I’ve never entered any kind of award for anything in my life, I was worried that I would come across as a rambling idiot and because the judges have no idea who I am, would they understand my humor?  Would they understand that I’ve left this entry until the last minute?  Would they know that I put heaps of thought into my answers?  I’m sure they do and will understand.  That’s the point of answering questions isn’t it?  Pressure, a bit of humor and last-minute stress?  It’s all part of the prize.

Cross your fingers friends.  Of course, I’ll let you know the results.  If I win an award or any kind of award for that matter.  Now or in the future, it will either have a permanent place on the dining room table or it will sit on the tv unit.  Both these places, my family know well.  The award will remind my family how awesome I am and it will remind myself that “you got to be in it to win it” and to grab life by the balls – which I do often. Also, any tips for any award writing or awards to apply for in the future are welcome.

FU*K YOU CANCER!

Slip Slop Slap

  *****DISCLAIMER***This post MAY be confronting for some.  It relates to cancer. Melanoma – may be a trigger.  This post is about raising awareness!

I want you to read this post and hopefully it hits home for you and maybe your family aswell.  spread the word by sharing it and telling your friends. 

If you follow me on Instagram you may of heard, but thought that this subject is so important and can happen to anyone. 

Here are some statistics on skin cancer from Cancer Council Australia Websitehttp://cancer.org.au

Every year, in Australia:

  • skin cancers account for around 80% of all newly diagnosed cancers
  • the majority of skin cancers are caused by exposure to the sun
  • the incidence of skin cancer is one of the highest in the world, two to three times the rates in Canada, the US and the UK.

So the mood is set.  Nearly everyone in the world knows someone that has been, or currently is being effected by cancer.  Fu*k Cancer!

Being fair skinned and my Mum’s side being Scottish. I burn.  I burn and can burn real fast. I think sometimes I burn by just looking at the sunshine.  It’s bullshit.  When I was a teenager, like most people I can never remember putting on sunscreen, but as soon as I had kids it was instant thought.  Always.  Sunscreen before we went to the park or to a picnic, sunscreen when we spent the day at the beach or theme park.  Suncreen when I know the kids will be in the long car trip to the Grandparents. Sunscreen.  Always.  But this is what I have learnt, now that 2 of my kids are ‘grown’.  The ‘sunscreen phase’ stops.  Not because I stopped it, but because kids don’t think they need it.  Kids don’t think they burn.  Kid’s want a tan.  Kids want their skin to go brown.  Kids actually think their skin is stronger than the sun.  The actual SUN.  What a load of shit right?  Which brings me to my point.  Because of my skin I get skin checks, every 6-12 months. I treat getting my skin checked as as I would my Papsmear.  Its important.  It’s a health priority.  It must be done.

It’s true

A few months ago, when I went to get my skin checked I made an appointment for my teenagers, who are both old enough to go to the appointment themselves.  So they went.  One son was fine, the other son needed a 2 sun spots burnt off (which is much better than finding signs of anything worse).  All good.  Well, so we thought. 

It was on my son’s 17th Birthday I got a phone call saying that he was to return to the clinic to have his sun spot double checked.  Apparently, this is normal as when they burn/cut off the sun spot they take a swab of your blood and send it to pathology.  My husband and I thought this all sounded a bit full on so Husband took our son to this appointment while I went to work.  Which was a blessing because I know I wouldn’t have been able to handle what was coming.

What was coming was that our son, Ethan had a melanoma.  Yep.  A cancerous melanoma.  The skin spot that the doctor burnt off, the blood results showed cancer in it.  A melanoma.  Ethan needed more cut off.  This Melanoma was on his head.  Just above his ear.  The doctor cut a big chunk out of the side head. Just above his ear.  Had about 9-10 stitches, couldn’t play football for 6 weeks, had a few days of work and school.  When my husband called me at work to tell me what was happening.  I thought he was joking.  See, my husband does these Dad Jokes, where I ask him on the way home from work if he could pick up the milk or pick up a child.  Then he gets home and goes ‘no, you didn’t tell me that’ and acts completely stupid and the child is in on it and jumps out at the last minute.  After I’ve gone a bit nuts.  It sometimes makes me laugh, but most of the time it pisses it off.  So when he rang that morning from the Skin Clinic he said to me that Ethan had a melanoma.  I instantly called bullshit.  I told him not to be funny and this wasn’t a joke.  Turns out, he wasn’t joking.  He was 100% real.  I started to cry.   I have been through a fair few things in my life where my world has crumbled into a ball. In an instant.  This moment was almost one of them. 

When someone tells you anything in life about your children, you usually go into a happy, defensive, angry or sad mode.  I went into breakdown mode.

Cancer? Melanoma?  Are you fucking kidding?  Why? The kid just turned 17, literally 2 days before all this. I’m not a believer in God – I spent just about all my whole childhood in a church, I think that has something to do with it. However, I do believe in good fortune, karma and the power of the universe.  I shouted to the universe to please make this not true.  Yes, I actually stood at my clients house, while doing my day job and yelled out ‘for fu*ks Universe.  What the fu*k did we do to deserve this?  Not sure at that point what that was going to do.  But I sure as hell didn’t want my kid to have cancer.  No parent does.

Once my husband calmed me down over the phone. He told me what is actually happening.   Ethan was having a chunk of his head cut out because the swab that was taken earlier tested positive to Melanoma.  The next process was to come back in 1 week to be told if the Melanoma was all taken out.  That week was a long week.  Ethan didn’t seem to be too bothered, which kids usually aren’t bothered by too much and I don’t think he fully understood the impact that Melanoma has.  Fast forward to the next week.  The doctor said he was fine.  Totally fine.  No trace of the Melanoma – it was all taken out. 

THANKYOU UNIVERSE

I tell ya, it was such a bullshit rollercoaster. The doctor did say that if he had got his skin checked any later than he did, it could have been a different story.  A worse story.  A story, I am sure many people have told.   

I know that there are many many MANY people in this world that are beating cancer and fighting the battle and sadly losing the battle with cancer.  My Mother In Law lost her battle with Leukemia 11 years ago, my best friend Mum and Nanna lost their battle within 2 years of each other.  Cancer is real.  Cancer sucks and Cancer needs to fuck right off!    

My intention of this blog is to give awareness of Melanoma and to urge you to get a skin test for you and your family. For you to tell your friends and family that skin checks are important.

Ethan’s story is important.  I told it to my work clients, my football friend parents, and my family and friends.  Guess what just about all of those people did?  They booked themselves in to get their skin checked.  I can not stress how important it is to look after our bodies and skin. It’s SO important! 

Ethan has to go for 3 month check ups for 6 months.  Then 6 month check up for 1 year then yearly check ups from then.  He has a large scar on the side of his head –  wears sunscreen on his head and a straw hat, rash vest and sunscreen when at when in the sun.  Teenagers are the worst for self-imagine, which I understand.  I used to be one, but wearing a hat, sunscreen and a rash shirt to protect yourself from the harsh Queensland/Australian sun is much more important than not doing it.   

Is there a moral of this story Kaz?  So glad you asked, because, yes there is.  There are 3 morals to this story – Actually, they aren’t morals – I’m just going to tell you what to do!  Cos I care about you and your health for you and your family!

1:  GET YOUR SKIN CHECKED

2: Don’t be a loser – SLIP SLOP SLAP AND WEAR A HAT!

3:  GET YOUR SKIN CHECKED

4:  You can not outsmart the sun.

Cancer can be an emotional thing to talk and read about.  I hope this blog post did not offend or upset anyone – that is not my intention at all.  I wrote this post to raise awareness of cancer and how important it is to get your skin checked – first and foremost. 

When Sh*t Hits The Fan

Have you ever been stuck in a rut?  Unmotivated, stressed, overworked, on the verge of a slight breakdown and have no idea how to carry on or how the heck you’re going to get out of what you think is a sinking hole?  Well, friends raise your hands and raise them high.  I’ve asked a few friends around the campfire and it seems I’m not alone with this little predicament, they feel the same as me. 

Not sure if it’s because it’s nearly mid year and people are freaking out or it’s because we are getting busier and time is starting to fly by.  Or it’s both.  It’s both (and so much more) isn’t it?  Let me tell you why I was in a rut, it is a bit of a Shit Show, but hang in there.

Roll Up Roll Up

First cab off the rank.  My Mr Middle Son turned 17.  Yep, god fucken help us when he’s 18, he already thinks he is (like the majority of teenagers these days) for some STUPID reason they think that being an actual adult is going to be the greatest thing in the world.  So they act like it now.   Meanwhile, Mr 18 hates being an adult and having bills and being responsible.  Ok, ok, he’s not THAT responsible and just between me and you he should be working harder than he already is.  Teenagers will slowly question your sanity, I’ve said that before right? 

I’ll start from the beginning.  I get skin checks regularly.  Every 6 to 12 months.  Especially important for me to do this, there’s no history of skin cancer in our family but me and my eldest’s skin burn just looking at the sun.  I booked the whole family in for skin checks.  Mr Eldest Child was clear, nothing to worry about.  Husband fine.  Me fine. Mr Middle Child had to have 2 sun spots burnt off.  All good.  Until they called me and said he had to come back to discuss some results.  Long story short.  One of Mr Middle Son’s sun spots was a melanoma and had to be cut out.   Mr Middle Son had about 8 stitches in head.  Then a biopsy was done to see if there was any sings of skin cancer left in his head.  All this happened 2 days after he turned 17.  Happy Birthday right?  We returned 2 weeks later; the tests were all clear HOORAY!  He’s all recovered now and is back to playing football this week.  I can’t stress enough how important it is to get your (and your families) skin checked regularly. I can go on and on about how deadly the sun is in Australia, but we’ve heard it all before.  I would hate to think if we left Mr Middle Son’s check up any longer what would of happened.  Moral of the story:  GET YOUR SKIN CHECKED!

FACTS

Did I mention that I am now a student?  Never did I think that on the brink of turning 40 I would be a student and studying online.  I sort of hate it and dislike the fact that I have to time manage my LIFE just so I can get a piece of paper.  However, that piece of paper will help me move on from my self employed day job that I have had for 9 years onto something more exciting and where I won’t have to wear shorts and t-shirts everyday.   It will also involve sitting at a desk, which sounds very appealing to me.  The hard part will be building this new business but once I have finished the studying aspect.  The business building should come easy.  I did mention that I have until July 31st to finish the studying.  Nothing like a bit stress in life to make things fun right?  Right! 

Let’s combine the above with work, motherhood, after school activities for the children, self care = exercise x 2 times a week for myself, a very low social life (which is the way I like it) and the usual random bullshit that pops up when you’re stressed out of your mind. That my friends is what you call a RUT!  That is why Get Lick’d Iceblocks was MIA. 

I have learnt, in the last few years that when I am feeling stressed or overwhelmed that I need to eliminate stress.  Need to eliminate things in my life at that moment that causes unnecessary stress.  That’s was I did and unfortunately Get Lick’d Iceblocks was first to be cut.  The thought of making new content, engaging with people on social media, brainstorming the next photo shots and still wanting to be active in the business hurt my head, so I stood back and let it go for 2 weeks – those 2 weeks I didn’t even think about Get Lick’d Iceblocks.  It was great to recharge and unplug for a while. 

Repeat After Me. Self Care Isn’t Selfish

I’ve said before about how I always make self care time and time for myself a priority.  It’s even more important to ‘switch off’ and realise that you can not do everything.  It’s just not possible.  If you need a sleep during the day or run or the urge to scream into a pillow or jump on the bed to let go of your worries and be in check with your emotions.  Then do it.

If your life is a shit show and you have no idea how the heck you are going get through it.  Eliminate things in your life that cause you to feel the way you are feeling.  If that means cancel the lunch with your folks because they are unsupportive about the way you live your life.  Then cancel the lunch or if you feel you have to attend your kids play date because you aren’t fond of the kids parents and hate making ‘small talk’.  Then cancel.  You’ll feel amazing about the fact that you have learnt to eliminate something from your life that causes you stress.  Then pin that gold star on your chest! 

Don’t You Stop

I do hope that this part of the year is treating you well.  I’m convinced that this is just a bump in the road and further down the road there’s a beaming light that will bring us all joy and we shall all be happy with no stress and no unnecessary bullshit in our lives until about November when we all start freaking out about Christmas.  < Joking

Finally – GET YOUR SKIN CHECKED! 

If You’re A Woman – Celebrate The Crap Out Of It. It’s important! #IWD2021

International Woman’s Day – It really is important.

March 8th it’s a date everyone (males included) that should be marked in the calendar.  Why?  Because it’s International Woman’s Day, this day matters and it should be celebrated. 

I must admit, as a kid, a teenager and a young adult I had no idea what this day meant and why it was celebrated but now, as a grown adult.  I get it.  I finally understand and I celebrate the crap out of it and will also teach my sons about it.

International Woman’s Day mean different things to different women.  I can’t speak on behalf of everyone but these are my thoughts about the day.  They may differ to your thoughts and that’s totally ok.  I understand.

What does International Woman’s Day mean and what should I do: I’ve written them in point bullets because it’s just that simple. Remember, different strokes for different folks.

  • Celebrate the woman in our world that are amazing.  That can be your best friend, you sister, your niece, you sister in law, your aunty, your daughter.  Are you seeing a pattern here?   When I say celebrate – I mean you can text them, put a post on your socials or actually see them and let them know how amazing they are for being a woman.
  • It is the only day on the ‘official calendar’ where it is ok to tell the world that woman should (and can) be recognised for our achievements regardless of our place in the workforce, regardless of our nationality, our ethnic background, political views, our economic environment.  It should also raise awareness for woman’s equality.  
  • Acknowledging how amazing woman are.  There is a MASSIVE list of women in the world that are doing amazing things.  He’s a quick list of my favourite women that are making a difference in the world.   Be these ladies small or large (this isn’t a popularity contest) I truly appreciate how hard these woman work, their values and glad they are making the world a better place.  Making a better place for their kids, themselves, their business, for strangers.  Whatever – I love the 3 people I have written about and what better day then to support these people!  
Read That Again ^

My Best Friend

My best friend Tamara, she’s a legend. No she really is!  She’s an owner operator of her own real estate business.  If you have any idea about real estate then you would know it can be (at times) a prick of a job.  But as far as she’s told me, it can also be very rewarding.  Tamara is a wife and a Mum of 2.  The only time I see her is when she’s at her office, usually on a Friday afternoon.  I avoid going home to clean my house. I go see her instead.  We try to chat while she is answering her phone and returning emails.  She does make sure she has down time though, usually after 5pm.  Or, if she has a rare Saturday off, we do stuff then.  My phone always ‘dings’ with the messenger tune.  It’s pretty much always Tamara telling me about her day or how her kids were arseholes on the school run this morning.  Don’t worry, I do the same to her aswell.

Tamara is doing amazing – she started her business 2 years ago.  I remember her texting me when she was nearly in tears saying that she was going to quit.  She was going to throw it all in.  She had had enough of it.  As business owners we have all been there right?  It’s one of the joys of running a business.  But whatever I blurted out of my mouth worked and she didn’t quit.  I think she knew she wouldn’t actually quit.  It’s easier to quit a business than to keep going sometimes.  She kept going and she’s doing amazing things.  Having a friend that has a business and you happen to have a  business is one of the small joys in the world.  You get to bounce ideas of each other and you both become stronger and confident.  Happy International Woman’s Day Tamara.  She reads my blog and she will kill me now because I’ve said all these nice things about her and didn’t warn her.  Ha ha Sorry not sorry.

Megan Markle

You may or not agree with this one – but if you know me or have read my previous post about Meghan.  Then I know you’ll understand.  I’ve been a fan since of Megan since her and Harry got together with Harry.  Firstly, I think the media and the royal family have painted her into some sort of monster.  I really don’t think it’s fair, but I do admire her and what she does and how she handles herself in front of the media.

 In my opinion, she keeps it real.  Whether or not what the media says is true or false you can’t deny the fact that she is standing up for what she feels is right for her and her new family.  She did an interview while she was pregnant in 2018 which I remember well.  The reporter asked if she was ok.  Clearly she wasn’t. Horrible things were being said about her, the hardcore royal lovers hate her and call her a gold digger and fake. Then there’s the idiots on social media that think their opinion matters and call her horrible names.  I mean, what a shitty situation to be in.  She found the love of her life (who happens to be a prince), married him, had their wedding viewed by the world. She gets pregnant which is one of the most special and beautiful things in a woman’s life.  They decide to leave the royal family and move countries and still the world hates them. Like REALLY hates them.  It shits me to tears. This week the world is going nuts for an interview they did on Oprah.  All my socials and alerts are all about Meghan and Harry and it’s all negative.  Meanwhile, never mind Price Andrew.  He has a lot of questions to answer and doesn’t get half as much hate as Meghan does. 

I  love that Meghan can/is standing up for herself and isn’t afraid to break the rules.  Kudos to Harry for sticking by her and being a supportive husband.  He’s always been my favourite.  You must admit whether you dislike her or not she’s got balls to take on the Royal Family.  I have come to the conclusion that the royal family is pretty bloody horrible.  But each to their own.  Remember, this is just my opinion.  No hate letters required.

My Mum

My 3rd most admired person is my Mum.  I’ll have to keep this pretty brief.  I dunno if Mum would like too much aired about her personal life.  However, my Mum has put up with some pretty heavy shit in her life.  Not so much now, but when me and my siblings were growing up there was domestic violence, alcoholism and a lot of times things were pretty shit in our lives.  But like all Mums they did they best that they could.  She is now in a much better place and has none of that in her world now.  Gosh, I write this as if she’s died or something.  She most certainly is not.  Thanks Mum x

I’m the woman on the end right, minus the heels.

March 8 was International Woman’s Day – much to my 16-year-old surprise.  While eating his breakfast this morning he says to me this “Is it International Woman’s Day today Mum” Yes Son it is.  Him:  Well, Happy Birthday.  Oh my god – you idiot!  I told him to text his girlfriend and tell her how amazing she is.  I also asked him to empty the rubbish and put away the dishes.  That is still left to be done. 

Last night I told Mr 9 to tell his teacher Happy International Woman’s Day.  On the drive home he told me his class went to the library and he borrowed a book about girl superhero’s and said to his teacher “This is a good book to borrow on International Woman’s Day” His teacher agreed and was apparently surprised that he knew it was IWD today.  Seems my job as a Mum is going ok. 

I always plan to do something on this day like go for a quick lunch, a brunch, a drink.  Anything really.  But every year I leave it too late to organise myself to go somewhere and all of my friends work and if they aren’t working they are looking after their kids.  I treated myself to a haircut and writing a blog entry and talking about how amazing woman are because lets face it we are pretty fucken rad.  I was on Facebook this morning and seen the usual comments from men who think that woman shouldn’t need a day to celebrate there worth and that men should have a day aswell.  *massive eye roll* Men, you do infact have yourself an international day.  It’s November 19th.  I’m sure the whole world will appreciate men as much as they do woman.  It’s only fair right? 

If you follow Get Lick’d Iceblocks on Instagram, you would of seen that I did a small collaboration with some follow woman small businesses – Ange from Sew Seal Deliver organised it and did all the video edits. Along with a handful of other awesome woman that own small businesses we totally rocked it, sharing awareness that Woman are indeed fucken awesome. I’ve ask Ange to be a ‘guest’ on my blog in the very near future – she is the Reel Queen (Reel Queen meaning she is so great at funny videos, she nails them every time) and the fact that she is kicking arse in her side hustle where she upcycles unwanted clothes/fabric into hair accessories. She’s pretty bloody handy. Keep a watch out.

Woman Are Powerful (as my shirt says) These are my boys – and they are well aware that Woman are indeed Powerful, especially the one in the photo!

Whatever you do in this big wide world and you’re a woman.  I hope you had a great day on March 8.  Even if you didn’t do anything – that’s ok.  Just be sure to whisper to yourself about how fucken great you are.  Being a woman can be so hard at times, yet it can be so fucken amazing.  It’s important to remind yourself about how great you really are.  Self love if you will.  Also remember it’s not your birthday (like Mr 16 thought). 

Happy International Woman’s Day 2021

A Letter To My Younger Self

Someone asked me the other day what is one piece of advice you would give your younger self?   I have NO idea.  I was stumped.  Honestly.  I think I said ‘to get a job while you’re still in school’.  Come on, out of ALL the things I could of said.  I said that!  Then I looked back and thought about what I was doing when I was my ‘younger self’, which I am assuming is age 16-18.  When I was 16-18 I was in school.  I was one of the eldest in my school grade because I repeated Year 4.  My parents always used to say I repeated school that year because I was “smart”. Which clearly, I wasn’t or I wouldn’t of repeated.  No biggie. The upside was that when I turned 18 in year 12 I got new friends.  Friends that liked to drink alcohol, their parents alcohol (until the parents realised they had none left)  For a small fee I would buy my new “friends” alcohol.  It was usually Blue Vok, Passion Pop or UDLs.  Oh yes, the good old days.  That little ‘job’ got very annoying after a while.  I stopped because I soon found out that it was illegal to buy alcohol for under age people and those ‘friends’ never spoke to me again.  No big loss.

Ok, back to it  – Soz, got a bit sided tracked – I would like to re answer that question – What’s one piece of advice you would give your younger self?  Answer:  Don’t be a dick and believe in yourself. 

I thought I would write a letter to my younger self.  I was told that this exercise (writing a letter to yourself) is therapeutic.  I’m yet to find out why but will let you know at the end of this blog entry.  Drumroll please……without further ado I present to you a letter to my younger self.  Hang in there, I have no idea what words are going to spew out of my brain but I sure hope its ok and someone takes something from it! Umm, also I’m not sure if I refer to myself in 3rd person. You’ll find out.  It’s weird. 

This is me at 17/18 years old. I was grungy as fu*k. I loved punk and grunge and ska music. I also wore these shoes everywhere, loved a bum part and only wore a dress and heels at my Year 12 formal.

Dear Karen (not yet known as Kaz or Kazza)

Hello.  How are you?  I hope you are well.  Clearly you are well, because I’m writing this to you (me) I’m writing this to you in hope that my 17 year old self is reading this. Which is not even possible because you are well over 17 years old now. 

I thought I would write to you, to clarify that you do not need to change anything about yourself. Well, maybe you could stop screaming at the kids when they drive you to the absolute brink of insanity and you question yourself and your worth.  But other than that, your life is pretty good.  You’re now a wife, a Mum, an aunty and you run 2 businesses.  You may not earn a lot of money and don’t own a house of your own (society still says owning a home ‘The Great Australian Dream), but you are comfortable and you provide for your family, go on holidays, have some savings and pay your bills on time.  This life is good.  Side note, most 17 years olds these days are nothing like you when you were 17.  The world is worse.  The world has certainly turned.

When you were 17, you had your first boyfriend.  You didn’t know it then, but this boyfriend shaped the way you would love and would want to be loved.  At the time, you were smitten, he was your first love and you thought you would marry him and live happily ever after.  You were also very obsessed with Beverly Hills 90210 and thought that you could have a love life like Kelly (or Brenda) definitely not Donna.  You hated Donna.  Complicated as fuck.  You loved the ‘status’ of having a boyfriend.  As long as you were passing at school, not going out every single weekend, were home a few nights a week and told Mum if you wanted dinner saved (parents’ rules) your life was complete.  When you look back now.  It wasn’t and you wished you realised sooner how much time you wasted and all the friends you lost because you wanted to be showered in gifts (and he would do just that). You also wanted to be obsessed over and wanted to feel important by someone that was also obsessed with you. All these things ^.  You hate now. Now, you just want someone to love you and be completely devoted to you.  Which you have!  The Real Deal.

When you were 18, you finally found the strength to break up with that boy.  Turned out, he had HUGE mental issues that you couldn’t help him with, nor could you fix.  You were happy.  You felt a massive weight off your shoulders, you could breathe again.  You had your friends back (you missed hanging out with them) . You were lucky enough to still be friends with the mutual friends that had become your friends over the year that you were a couple aswell.  It was nice.  Your parents were happy aswell.  Mum knew that boy wasn’t right for you, but she stood by you and she never once said ‘I told you so’. 

2 years after you finished high school.  You met a boy that would eventually sweep you off your feet.  You didn’t know it at the time but your life will be full of love. Your life will be content and you will be happy for a long time.   

I can’t compare Teenage Love to Adult Love.  It’s different.  It can be complicated.  You must go through the hard times to get out the other side.  There are many hard times in life.  Although I think life throws you more happy times than hard.

I’m not sure if the meaning of this letter is meant to be me looking into the future for you or if it’s meant to be just a heads up on what life is all about.  In saying that, looking AT the future you’ve done great.  Not all the time.  There will be many happy times, lovely times, times where you won’t be able to contain your emotions and you will amaze yourself.  For example – childbirth, believing that you are worthy enough of love, falling in love and with someone that sweeps you off your feet, falling in love with your children and helping them grow into little versions of yourself.  That’s a massive achievement right there.  

Then there are the sad times.  Times where you are going to cry for days because you are scared of the thought that you are in an awesome relationship but it’s all new and you don’t know how to act, how to feel and scared you’re going to screw it all up (you didn’t by the way).  You will lose and gain friendships, be it due to the crazy bullshit that is called life and you just couldn’t find the time to catch up with each other.  It happens.  Then there are the friendships in life where you may not see your friend for years, but when you finally see each other nothing changed.  Hold onto those friendships. Those ones are the best and are few and far between.  But, on the upside you find friends along the way.  Friendship is important.  You’ll go through deaths of family members and the family pet.  This hits hard.  Remember – it gets worse before it gets better. You’ll go through parenthood. Now that will make you question your purpose in life.  Parenthood/Motherhood is a mixture of cluster fucks and sunshine and lollipops.  It’s full on.  It’s also rewarding.  You will question your being.  But you’ll make it out the other side.  Apparently you will.  You should do.  Seems most people do.  Whether or not you’re sane by the time your kids are adults is another subject.

This thing we call life is 80% of the time exciting, the other 20% is bullshit.  You feel like your drowning and you have no idea how the hell you are going to get through it.  But you do.  Like Mum always say “Karen, you always seem to land on your feet” and you do.  Whether that means, in the early adult days that you have had to sell some personal belongings to make sure you can pay for your car registration.  Then that’s what you had to do.  If that meant you had to work 16 hour days to provide for your family so your kids could have a great holidays and Christmas season.  You did that aswell.  Not only, did you do that.  But there are a zillion people in the world that did the same thing.  Because they can and they know they have no other choice. 

You’re raising kids.  Raising kids these days is HARD.  There’s a thing called social media.  Kids (and adults) and consumed by it.  It’s all very complicated, just be thankful that digital cameras and social media was not around in the late 90s. 

You are also a wife – a wife to a man that loves you FOR you.  Flaws and all.  He even loves that freckle on the side of your face that you tried to get rid of with a lemon when you were 16.  He is the love of your life and you can’t wait to grow old together.  You have been together for 20 years after all. 

Can you believe you are a business woman?  Yep, you have a business.  Two businesses actually.  You like one more than the other but you are killing it in the business world.  It suits you.  You also have a fear of working for someone else.  Which messes with your head.  You also need to add more money to your superannuation, your accountant tells you this every single year. Adulthood!

Oh and your name KAREN, is now defined by how you treat people.  The world made that up.  Yes, the whole world made up that all Karen’s are arseholes and complain to managers if you don’t like something.  It sucks.  So change your name is Kazza or Kaz.  Or just deed poll it and make it official.  It’s fucken annoying and it needs to stop! 

Or Be The Man You Needed As A Boy

If you were a real 17 year old person reading this I would usually end the letter something along the lines of, I do hope we can catch up and have lunch together. Blah Blah Blah.  You like to be home by 7pm most nights, so dinner is out.  Lunch it is!   But I can’t catch up with you.  Which is sad.  All I can do is hope there is a 17 year old person out there reading this.  Or, if there is any kind of person of any age reading this and taking something from it and they decide to write a letter to their younger selves aswell.  It has been pretty theopoetic like people have said it would be.  I guess if I had to write a letter to the First Boyfriend, that would be completely different.  Actually, I would never do that.  I decided a LONG time ago to let that sleeping dogs lie.  Although when I do see him my entire body shakes, I have to sit and end up having a massive panic attack.  Teenage Love really messed you up. 

Now as an ‘experienced adult’ I’ve told my kids (one of which happens to be nearly 17 and one that is 18) to get a job.  Keep the job. Learn to budget.  Pay your bills.  Make sure you spend time with your family and be the best person you can be.   There’s much much more to life.  But that was start.  Wonder what piece of advice they would tell their younger selves in 20 years?

If my letter to my future self didn’t inspire you and it you hated it.  Firstly, thank you for reading this far.  Secondly, go to Google and search ‘benefits of writing a letter to your future self’. It might just inspire you to be honest, I can think of much worse things you can write about.  I might write a letter to my children.  Now, that sounds fun.  I’ll start with the 18 year old and explain to him How Not To Be An Arsehole.  Joking.  Obviously. Or am I?

Oh To Be A Lady. The joys of aging, the expectations that woman have of themselves.

*Disclaimer Alert – if you are not indeed a woman and you find a woman’s body and woman’s health some what uncomfortable – then this blog post may not be your thing.  That’s totally cool – I won’t be offended – Different Strokes for Different Folks.  In conclusion – read on – or not!  This post is nothing too crazy, nor is it gross or anything like that.  Think of it as awareness and self love!  Goodness knows the world needs more of self love and awareness! *

I’m 40, actually, I’m not. Not yet anyway – this year I am 40.  But the year is still young.  When I was ‘younger’, say in my tweens and early teens I thought being 40 was old.  Turns out, when you hit your 30s, turning 40 is just around the corner and all of a sudden you may or may not do (or think about) the following things.  I’m writing them in bullet points because there’s a lot – well, maybe not a lot – but certainly enough.

https://kitesandroses.com/ with the perfect self love quote.
  • Feel the need to start using anti-aging creams for you face and a special cream for under your eyes – you know, for the winkles that you can’t see you have on your face yet.  Don’t forget to moisturise your neck and hand while you’re at it.
  • You start going to the hair dresser religiously to get your grey hair and roots covered.  If you can’t afford to go to the hair dresser at least once every 3 – 6 months you buy a DIY home kit, which works perfectly fine – but you just have to find the time to do it.  Between work, juggling kids sports and their social lives, your partner and your self care.
  • Vitamins that you may or may not take for sleep, nails, hair growth, magnesium, collagen.  Whatever floats your boat.  These are important to people.
  • Contraception and maybe making the decision of maybe having your tubes tied or maybe you’ve already had them tied.  This is a big one.
  • Your monthly PMS and Aunty Flow/The Painters AKA your period which is as much of a nightmare as it was when you were a teenager, if not worse.
  • The option of having to decide if and when you are ready to either have children or to stop having children.  Then maybe you and your husband have to make a decision as to why and if he needs to have ‘the chop’
  • Hair – on your face and your kids telling you ‘Mum you’re starting to grow a beard like Dad’. *rage* I hear hair on your nipples is a thing aswell and obviously hair in all the usual areas whereby society tells us it must be ‘contained’ as to where it grows or if if you want it to grow.  Hello Laser!  
  • Weight – OMFG.  I could go on about this issue for HOURS.  You get told you’re too fat, you get told you’re too skinny.  You do everything you can to shift weight and it does not shift, or the weight does shift but it’s not from where you need or want it to shift.  It’s a horrible circle. And what is scarier is that, in some woman.  Once you reach your late 30s it is actually harder to lose and maintain weight then you go to your GP and they send you for all these blood tests to check your thyroid, diabetes, iron and lots of other ‘fun’ stuff. 
While ‘researching’ the internet about woman’s health. I fell into a deep hole of Gemma Correll and I have no regrets of the hours wasted on looking at her cartoons. https://www.gemmacorrell.com/

I’m am certainly not a doctor, nor do I have ANY kind of medical background.  I’m just a woman that is getting nervous at the fact that I am soon approaching turning 40 years old.  I figure that if I am nervous and anxious about turning 40, there’s sure to be other people in the world that feel the same.  Right?

If you have met me, have seen me or even ‘Instagram stalked me’ then you have probably noticed that I am embracing my hair.  I haven’t dyed my hair (DIY kit or hairdresser) for about 3 years.  I still get it cut, but haven’t coloured it for years.  There was a point where I was going to my hairdresser once every 4-6 months just to cover the regrowth.  Then, when I couldn’t get into the hairdressers I would DIY.  Which was fine – but was a lot of effort for me.  So, one day I thought Fuck It.  I’m going to grow my hair out.  I was colouring to cover the grey hair.  My hair is short so thought that it really wouldn’t take that long for the grey hair to grow out.  I was wrong.  It’s taken a fair bit of time.  I’m fine with that.  I have embraced it.  I love it.  Took a while to do so, people pay A LOT of money to have ‘the grey hair look’.  3 years on I am loving it.  I’m also not one to care much what people think about me.  It’s hair ffs.

I had a conversation with my brother over the holidays, he asked me why don’t I dye my hair.  I asked him why I should?  In his defence he did have a bit to drink and seems my hair was a topic of conversation.  Which was fine, I wasn’t bothered in the slightest.  It was quite a lengthy discussion, some of which I zoned out of.  I did ask him why no one asks or even bats an eyelid when we see men with a full head (or beard) of grey hair.  But there’s some shit expectation that because, when woman have grey hair, we need to dye it.  Get fucked!  Woman have enough issues and shit to do then to be judged by what colour our hair is or isn’t.  I couldn’t give a toss what colour your hair is, my only advice is whatever colour it is, love it and own it!

*insert Sex And The City music here* Carrie, the original blogger hits the nail on the head

Face hair – that’s a totally different kettle of fish isn’t it? I had all 3 of my children (that should all know better) tell me awkwardly that ‘I’m growing a beard like Dad’.  I was driving and I swear to God if I could of pulled over I would of.  I get it – kids are fun and they say the darndest things.  The 9 year old is fine.  The 18- and 16-year-old, they should know to hush!  When we got home that day, got on ebay and ordered ladies face razors.  That’s the end of that!  My sons haven’t said a word about my ‘beard’, which was a very faint beard ever since. That’s probably cos they made me so self conscious that I face shave my face with special face razors religiously.

I recently had a Mirena taken out of my cervix.  It was embedded in there.  Through no fault of my own.  It was a bit full on and I required day surgery which sucked.  But as a lady, these things are just one of the joys and complications of our body.  A Mirena is a contraceptive ‘device’ which you have put in your cervix and you change them every 5 years.  I’ve had 3 Mirena’s. They work well for my body.   I’ve heard many horror stories about them aswell.  Different strokes for different folks. Do whatever works for you.  I’m on life long blood thinners due to having a massive complications after a caesarean when my 16 year old was born.  I’ll tell ya, being 23, having a newborn, a toddler and being told you have to take medication for the rest of your life is pretty scary.  Although, back then I was so naive and didn’t yet have a back bone (I have a very strong one now) and did pretty much everything I was told by the nurses after I had Mr 16.  As a result, I grew a massive blood clot from my groin to my ankle and later formed 3 clots in my lungs.  Fun times!  Notch this down as another joy of being a woman.

Repeat After Me…….

I would like to point out that this blog entry isn’t about how woman have it so tough and men have it easy.  That’s not my intention at all.  I just feel, as a woman that we DO infact have it tough, in life and in health.  I totally understand that men get health issues and have body issues and everything in between.  I feel that society gives woman a hell of alot harder time than men.  Why though?  Why is this a thing?  It sucks.  Example:  When woman ‘complains’ about how we have our periods once a month.  For the record, when I say ‘complain’ I mean that we are just making it known that we have a period once a month.   It’s the WORST!  I explained to my husband and 2 teenage boys about life of a woman once.  I can’t remember the exact situation, but it was a tit for tat bullshit conversation about Men Vs Woman.  I won (of course) The conversation sort of went like this:

Teenagers:  Yeah, but most woman don’t have physical jobs like men.

Me:  Yes, that’s true.  Being a tradie is a very male dominated industry but there are woman tradies around.

Teenagers:  Men have to work while the woman usually stay at home.  How is that fair? {they were talking about after you have a family}

Me:  Not all woman stay at home, they might at the start.  In some cases, Men earn more than woman hence why they work.  They also work to provide for their family and the baby they just made.  I did go onto to explain that there is no rulebook that says the men are to stay home and the woman go to work.  You just do whatever works for you family.  My teens know this as their Dad was a stay at home Dad for about 4 years while I built my business. 

Teenagers:  Wives don’t care if their husband’s get sick – sick was clarified as ‘man flu or a cold or a headache, sporting injury’.  Not sick sick.  As in kidney stones or gall bladder. 

*this one was where the conversation pretty much ended being ‘nice’ and they knew it.  When you have teenagers, you need to learn to be sarcastic (well, depending on what your children are like).  There is heaps of sarcasm in this house.  At times teenagers also think they are being funny when infact they are not, they are being major arseholes.  That never ends well*

Me:  Wives do care when their husbands are sick.  Maybe not to their fullest ability, but to a certain extent they do actually care.  We care.  When Husband’s are sick and they can’t help with the kids or pick something up off the floor. But can magically play on their phone for hours and hours, tell the kids to go away (even for a cuddle), mope around the house for days.  That’s when we stop caring. Do you know why we stop caring?  Because the world doesn’t stop when Wives/Mum’s get sick.  We are still planning the shopping (or even going shopping), dropping the kids off at school, making lunches, making dinner and still feel the need to clean the house for some stupid reason.  See, the Males mind can switch off.  The Woman’s mind can’t.  Its hard. 

Ok, so this made me laugh out loud a bit to much. Damn right the beach will get the body I give it. Every. Single. Time

I was shopping with my teenagers and Mr 9 once.  They were shopping with me because we all went somewhere (which is very rare because between my work, their work/school and social lives, it gets tricky)

 I was in the woman section with all the pads and tampons.  You know the aisle that makes men feel very uncomfortable for some weird reason.  Anyway, Mr 16 thought it would be funny to throw a pair of pads to Mr 18 and Mr 9 be in the middle.  Piggy In The Middle.  My teenagers are giants so Mr 9 never stood a chance.  I was distracted and had to think.  Sometimes being a mother, you think that teenagers have shame, like teenagers will actually be still and quite.  WRONG!  Note that they did not have their phones to distract them either.  They played Piggy In The Middle for a few minutes until they were getting loud and annoying and I asked them to stop.  There was no one else in the aisle hence why I wasn’t too phased by it all, but they were getting annoying.  I got what I needed (hand soap), told them to come along and I walked off.  But being teenagers they had to be idiots about something.  Me, being a Mum I had to tell them about 3 times to “Stop It and Move” Before they did that they cracked a joke to each other about pads and tampons.  I didn’t actually hear it, but I knew that’s what it was about.   It must have been so hilarious because they were all laughing like freaks and couldn’t talk.  They catch up to me and they were still laughing.  I asked what was so funny and they (the teenagers) said that they think it’s weird and gross that ladies use those ‘things’ (things = pads and tampons)  

 You know when you find something to do to make a baby laugh and then they laugh uncontrollably?  That’s cute right.  It’s a very cute moment,  This was like that.  But imagine the laughs are much much louder, there are no babies involved and wasn’t really cute at all.  It was pretty freaking annoying.

They were all still laughing uncontrollably. Mr 9, giggling asked what the pads were for were for.  The Teens, knowing me well, laughed and begged me not to explain anything to him because they knew I would say something that would gross them out.  Mr 9 really wanted to know what Pads were.  In his little brain pads are used for tackling practise at footy training.  These were not the same pads.  I told Mr 9 that woman use pads for when they bleed out of their vagina once a month. That’s the truth.  That’s what I said.  Dead set, anyone would think that that day, my kids were given Happy Gas and they overdosed on it or something because their laughter got worse and worse and now they were actually crying in laughter.  Like for fox sake. I admit I did giggle with them at one point but I was getting annoyed because 1) I told them to stop being idiots and loud 2) People were staring and looking at ME like I should be able to control these idiots.  I couldn’t.  Pretty sure they were born that way 3) I answered a question about what they were for and the boys still thought it was funny.  BOYS SUCK!  What was annoying me more was that they couldn’t even be a tiny bit impressed that a woman’s body is amazing.  I then I had to quickly remind myself that because it doesn’t effect their lives right now. At that moment.  Then they didn’t care.  I couldn’t care less either. I just wanted to get the hell out of the shop cos they were pissing me right off. 

Have kids they said.  It would be fun they said! 

My kids don’t ask much about those kinds of things anymore, which doesn’t bother me, they know if they have a question then to ask and we’ll tell them.  That’s how questions work.  One of the Teens have a girlfriend so I think he has a very good understanding of what periods and ‘that time of month means’.  He keep a fair distance away from her. 

Slight change of topic, not a total change of topic but I feel this is important to this conversation.  The majority of my following and readers are female so this is relevant.

Shout out to all the following ladies. 

  • All the ladies that think they are flawed because they can’t shift body weight (my hand is raised) Slow and steady wins the race.  Just start, don’t give up and keep going.
  • All the ladies that are yet to fall in love with themselves and their bodies.  I’ve only recently  fallen in love with myself.  Again.  It’s fucken hard to love yourself with all the expectations of the ‘world’ and what the ’world’ thinks you should and shouldn’t look like (Instagram plays a part in this) Fuck the world man! Fuck the haters! Be yourself.  Love yourself and do yourself for YOU.  No one else!
  • All the ladies that think that they should be, or have expectations to be: the best wife, the best girlfriend, the best sister, the best friend.  Don’t worry about it.  Be the best person YOU can be!  If that means you have to serve your kids cereal for dinner because you’ve been working all day or the baby didn’t settle.  Do it.  If that means that you must cancel lunch with your sister because all you want to do is sleep off a hangover.  Do it! If that means you don’t want to have sex with your partner because it’s the middle of summer and the air con is broken.  Don’t do it!   Do what makes YOU feel good and what YOU need to do to get through the day, week and moment.  
  • All the ladies that are not in a good head space and pretend that they are every day.  The ladies that go on with their lives fighting thoughts in their head for whatever reason.  I love you.  I don’t know you.  But I do know that you are amazing, and you are worthy and you need to talk to someone.  Anyone.   https://www.beyondblue.org.au/ < Follow the link if you need it.
  • All the ladies that are not yet Mothers but are urging for that missing piece in their lives. 
  • All the ladies that don’t want children.  Kudos to you Babe.  Woman shouldn’t be defined by if they do or don’t want/need children.

I could do a shout out to ALL the ladies of the world, but this post would be mega long and turn boring.  So I won’t.  What I will say is that being a woman and aging is hard and stressful and sometimes utter bullshit. Like complete bullshit! However, through ALL of that, we must learn to embrace and or love ourselves.  We are ALL worthy of self love and we are ALL worthy to do whatever we want to our bodies to make us happy.  If that means plastic surgery and Botox.  Do it.  If that means getting a tan every week.  Do it.  If that means you want to look younger and in denial about aging.  Fucken do it!  You do YOU.  Age however the hell you want to age.  Be yourself.  For yourself! Just please do these 2 things.  Embrace your body (and your health) flaws and all and learn to love yourself!  YOU ARE WORTH IT!

Not sure who ‘fw’ is but I like them alot.

Finally, if your teenagers and your youngest child ever act like lunatics in the shopping and I see you.  I’ll going to pat you on the back and tell you it’s all going to be ok.  

Christmas + Stress = A Perfect Combo To Consider Divorce (obviously, I’m joking)

One of my lovely Insta Business Besties (that’s code for someone you met on Instagram that you ‘click’ with and you have a lot in common and the rest is history), well… she asked me to write a blog about my lead up to Christmas.  Seems she (just like me) was stressed out with work, appointments, kids and the silly season aswell.  So without further adieu I present to you Kazza’s Lead Up To Christmas AKA – The Shit Show! 

One highlight of December is the 21st of December – Gravy Day. YouTube search How To Make Gravy by Paul Kelly. It will be your favourite Christmas Song in no time. Shirt from https://confettirebels.com.au/

Like most people or working parents, or maybe not even working parents – like most people Christmas is stressful.  God knows why!  Do we cause this on ourselves, is it society?  Is it the government? (joking) I used to think life wasn’t stressful.  In fact, I used to think that if you are stressed out in life – you caused that problem for yourself.  It wasn’t anyone else’s fault you are stressed, you caused it! All of it!  What a fucken idiot!!!  Clearly that point in my life I didn’t work for myself, was busy or have kids that made me stressed or have a husband that makes me lose my mind sometimes and I had absolutely no bills or financial pressure.  At all! Safe to say, my outlook and my understanding of stress (and life) has 100% changed.

My husband – J, is pretty helpful around the house.  USUALLY.  He isn’t that handy but let’s just say he knows what he can and can’t do – even with tutorials from YouTube.  So when he said he has 3 weeks holidays – I did what most wives do, I wrote a list.  I called it a Wish List, speaking from experience it works well.  J’s last day of work was Thursday 18th December – which worked out perfectly because I was still trying to make up for lost income from when Billy was in hospital so I had a few days left of work.

Before I go on – I must confess – at this point in my life.  I am exhausted.  I’m fed up with pretty much everything and nearly everyone.  I’m tired.  I am SO emotional.  I don’t know why I was so emotional I put it down to being exhausted and lack of sleep.  Being in hospital with Billy and away from home for 5 days was obviously a major point of why I was feeling the way I was. 

This is me and Billy on the 23rd December – 2 days after he got the all clear from the Specialist Doctors that he can go for a swim after his appendicitis rupture. It was like Christmas actually came early.

Let me define ‘emotional’ .  You know that feeling you get when you know something shouldn’t make you cry but you cry anyway.  I cried in Fred Clause, (a corny Christmas movie).  Now I cry in a lot of movies – actually I cry in nearly every movie I watch.  The night before we watched Home Alone and I ALWAYS cry at the end when Kevin’s mum turns around and Kevin runs into her arms and then Kevin waves out the window to the Old Man Neighbour when he’s hugging his granddaughter and walks in his house with his son.  That gets me EVERY SINGLE TIME.  But I didn’t cry that time.  I cried in the bit of Fred Clause when Vince Vaughn got all the elves dancing.  Yes, that bit!  WTF is wrong with me?  Why cry then Kazza?  “I don’t knooooow”.  A few days later I cried watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, I can’t remember the exact details – but an old lady won $50,000 dollars and her granddaughter was there giving her a hug at the end!  Stupid little things like that – and before you even THINK it!  NO, I am not pregnant and YES I am SURE. I am not pregnant. Absolutely NOT!  I checked.

Sounds about right

So with all this exhaustion and my husband finishing work 4 days earlier than I did – I was a little pissed off that he got to do ‘nothing’, which he said that’s exactly what he would be doing.  NOTHING!  This is when my exhaustion went to anger.  It went there pretty fast mind you.  When leaving for work on a Friday morning – I asked him if he could put the washing on – nothing to drastic, he says to me ‘Babe, this is my first day off in ages, I’m going to do nothing’ Oh righto then. *insert up yours emoji here*  I get in my car, slightly rev my engine up the driveway and go to work.  I didn’t hear from J all day.  Funny that (helps that for half the day I was out of phone reception, but that’s not the point)  J is also lucky that I have a friend that has her own office.  She was doing some paperwork that afternoon and no appointments so I hung out with her and helped her do a couple of things.  I didn’t come home until about 5pm.  I’m never home at 5pm and when I got home – dinner was made and the washing was put on, hung out and taken in!  J did not say a word about what he will and won’t be doing on his holidays since that day. 

Marriage – isn’t it grand?

J isn’t all that bad – by Christmas Day all was forgiven. All was forgiven before Christmas Day actually. Marriage – it’s fun!

I finished work the day before Christmas Eve – I have no idea how I did it – it was like I was in a trance.  By that time the Christmas stress was well and truly settled in. I did cram a lot into a week though.  Two hospital appointments for myself *sigh* I have something stuck in my body, which is a bit full on (a blog entry about that will be coming up in January) Hopefully it will spread some awareness about woman’s health.  Last minute Christmas gift shopping, a trip to Bunnings and Officeworks.  Those 2 shops are like a vortex – I can NEVER leave with what I came in for.  I made it a priority to workout with my Personal Trainer.  On training night I was feeling so unmotivated and thought about not going, but I got out of making dinner and knew it had to be done, so I went.  I figured I have a few days to sit and rest.

When you have kids – no one ever mentions the teenage years. It’s always baby, toddler then school and how cute your kids are when they are in those stages of their lives.  Which is true, they are cute years.  Everyone jokes about WHEN your kids will be teenagers. No one actually offers or says any ‘advice’ about having teenagers. Because the people that do offer advice about teenagers, are still in the ‘cute kid’ stage of their lives.  People laugh and say ‘oh, my kids won’t do that when they are teenagers’ WRONG.  They probaly will and they will do it twice, just to be sure!  We were all teenagers once, half the shit teens do these days is worse than what we did – drugs are more common to find and get, social media and access to the wifi is every parents NIGHTMARE (teenager or not), drinking is more acceptable (apparently), Snap Chat and TikTok become obsessive – refer to wifi is every parents nightmare and  the list goes on and on.    

 However, in saying those thing – having teenagers can be very handy!  Having teenagers that work is even more handy.  Both my teens have apprenticeships – one a plumber and the other commercial cookery (chef) J and myself think it’s important to have a trade, so they have something to fall back on – even if they don’t use their trade once they are qualified at least they have it and because they work and earn their own money – they saved me at least $200 and that, my friends is the silver lining!  They bought me a present, their Dad, their little brother and each other presents!  All with their own money.  It worked out perfectly! Seems having teenagers are somewhat useful and this is now the new normal for Christmas and birthdays.  Welcome to adulthood Children. 

If you are a fan of my blog entries, you would know from the last entry that I do a Christmas Eve Late Lunch/Kids-Eat-Us-Out-Of-House-And-Home Dinner. It was pretty good, the eldest had a work trial in the morning and I was very surprised Mr 16 was at home for the day.  By mid-afternoon the table was set to go. Lollies, chicken, turkey, dinner rolls, chips, dip, ham, pasta salad, cheesecake, chocolate.  The works.  The boys loved it.  They came in and out of their rooms and sat together and then went on their way, then half an hour later they would do the same again. Christmas Day, we went to my Brother In Laws, it was great and the Queensland weather was perfect!  Boxing Day was THE best – the teens weren’t home (not that that was the best, but it was 2 less people to worry about and nagging me)  Mr 9 was playing his new PS4 game for most of the day.  I think we all went to bed at 10pm because we lost track of time.  Days like those are the best aren’t they?  That means holiday mode is well and truly turned on!

The Annual Christmas Eve Feast. Complete with real mistletoe and featuring a teenager on his phone (sigh) The other teenager’s phone probably ran out of battery or he’d have it with him. We do have a rule of having no phones at the table. But this day got a bit loosy goosy

 I have officially finished working for 2020, my last day was yesterday and it was the worst.  Well, maybe not THE worst, but close to it.  I clean holiday rentals to help my friend out in the busy periods .  It’s good money but please not. If you are ever staying in a holiday rental, leave a beer or a box or chocolates in the fridge – the cleaners will be most grateful, especially on a hot day.  Sometimes we don’t get paid enough to clean up mess that the holiday maker should of done themselves, as in that little PDS that you sign when you collect the keys.  Just be kind!  The cleaners will love you for it! 

We are off camping in a few days – that shall be fun.  We haven’t gone camping in about 1.5 years. You would think the world is ending with the amount of crap, I mean ‘all useful and much needed equipment’ J has packed.  I am sure he has packed everything that is required, but he has a tendency to ‘overpack and overreact’ when it comes to things like this.  Camping should not be hard – this is what I tell him.  Keep things minimum.  I’m more worried about not having enough food to feed the children.  Could you imagine going away for 5 days and not having enough food to feed your family?  Seriously, my worst nightmare.  Ever!  I mean I would be able to go without food, but I would cut off my arm and leg if it meant my kids could eat and not whinge and bitch about being hungry. 

Then, by the time we get back from camping it will be a new year (thank GOD), then book lists and back to school stuff will happen and another year will fly past.  Hopefully 2021 will be MUCH better than 2020 – goodness knows lots of people are happy to see the end of 2020.  Pretty sure the last and first thing I am going to do this year and next year is pick up teenagers from their NYE parties. Or give them money for an Uber to get home.  That sounds much more sensible doesn’t it? 

2021 Mantra ^ More adventures. Drop your favourite camping spot in the comments if you would be so kind.

Thanks for sticking around in 2020 – I’ve had fun!

Childhood Christmas Memories and How My Crush Popped My Santa Bubble! (being gullible didn’t help)

Christmas is 5 DAYS away.  5 sleeps! This house is in countdown mode (well, not everyone) My husband is counting down the work days when he’s finished work for the year, 1 teen has no concept of time (still) and the other teen works in hospitality so he’ll always be shit out of luck.  I must say Mr 9 is the most excited.  I just want to stay home, bake things I only do once a year and watch Christmas movies, again!

I do love Christmas.  Growing up Christmas and Birthdays were my favourite.  I was lucky, we had a small family. My Dad’s family lived in Victoria and didn’t really visit.  My Mum’s side, Nanna and Grandad lived in Scotland until they moved back to Australia when I was 18.  So there was just the 5 of us – like a lot of people that grew up in the 80s and 90s, we didn’t have a lot of money, I know my parents used to fight about money (or lack of) a bit, but every year for Christmas we would get everything we needed and it was a massive deal.  Just like birthdays.  Every birthday my Mum would have the dinner table prepared full of party food – lollies, chips, party pies, sausage rolls, sandwiches, coloured popcorn (the kind that would make you spew if you ate too much) and all the fun food you could think of.  If it was a birthday that day, we would walk through the door after school that day and the dining room would be decorated with balloons and streamers and the table a kids dream.  We never had parties with school kids, not sure why I think because we moved around so much.  Me, my sister and brother didn’t seem to mind though. 

Might not look like much. But days like these were my favourite growing up.

Christmas was the same.  Party food, but a little bit more fancier.  My Mum was the Customer Service Manger for Franklins for years so she got a discount when paying for the groceries each week.  She also got first pick of any food that was reduced to clear.  Mum just bought whatever she knew we would need at the reduced price and then freeze it until Christmas day.  Pretty sure none of us got sick from any of that freezer food, we didn’t care and just ate it anyway. 

Waking up Christmas morning was the best.  We weren’t allowed to open our bedroom doors or we would get in big trouble.  Dad would make little traps or tie string across our bedroom doors so we couldn’t get out/.  Mum and Dad would get up first, make their tea and coffee then tell us to come out of our rooms.  Then we would run to the lounge with Mum and Dad sitting there looking at each other and knowing their hard work had paid off. We would take turns to open the presents – that’s something I like to do with my own family now.  It’s special.  I am the middle child (eye roll) I have an older brother who is 22 months older than me and a younger sister by 8 years.  As a kid I was gullible as fu*k.  If you told me that the sky is going to turn purple forever and stay that way I would 100% believe you.  I believed I was adopted for a whole day before I asked my Mum if she was my real Mum.  My brother Steve got in massive trouble that day. I was also a dobber and a cry baby!  Far from what I am now.  So of course, at Christmas I 100% believed in Santa and his elves like in the movies. 

Obviously, it doesn’t sound like oranges. Or does it?

Don’t laugh, but I believed in Santa until I was in grade EIGHT!! Yes grade 8.  I was 13. I remember the exact moment aswell.  I was at school, that day our grade got asked to go to the channel 9 TV studio to film and be on a game show, you know those corny shows you see early in the morning with kids in their school uniforms?  It was one of those shows.  Only the smart and well-behaved kids got invited to go.  Me and my friends didn’t get asked so we had to stay at school.  It was during lunch time and the bell had just gone for the last period.  Fairly sure it was also the last week of school.  Anyway, I was getting my books out of my bags in the locker room and this boy that I had a massive crush on, Matt was next to me and says ‘I’m going to tell my little sister that Santa isn’t real tonight’ Ummmm what?

In my head I think I was having a panic attack and asking myself.  Santa isn’t REAL? What do you mean Santa isn’t real?  I asked him what he meant, he explained that his sister was a little brat and she got everything she wanted.  That kind of thing. Then I asked him the most stupid question and thank god he already thought I was weird!  You ready?  I asked him this and this is no shit.  I asked him… ‘if Santa doesn’t bring the presents then who does’? YES I REALLY SAID THAT.

I can still remember his face looking at me weird, like I believed in Santa or something.  Thank goodness he laughed then he asked if I was actually listening.  I wasn’t I was freaking out inside because I thought Santa was a real person. Then I laughed it off and told him that his parents would kill him if he did that.  He agreed.  Then he said he probably won’t do that, but it would be funny if he did.  Then we got our books and walked to class talking about something completely non-Christmas related!

And that was that! 

That my friends, is when my Santa Bubble popped. POP!  I was sad.  I loved the magic of Santa.  All of it.  Because I had a younger sister it was easier to believe. My sister and I would talk about Christmas all the time and play games about Christmas and Santa’s workshop.  We also went to church and they did lots of that stuff.  It was the best.  I think when my friend popped my Santa Bubble I was scared I wouldn’t be able to play games or Christmas wouldn’t be that fun anymore. Which, now as an adult I realise that wasn’t true.  I also thought it was weird that Santa and my parents had the exact same writing and they knew exactly what I wanted without me ever writing a letter sometimes.  See, magic. You must also remember I was a very gullible kid – this helped with my belief of Santa.  A LOT.

Not sure when my brother or sister found out Santa wasn’t real, but I can bet it wasn’t when they were 13 and at school. 

I have no photos of me and my family at Christmas time when I was little. But I have carried on the tradition on Christmas Eve with my boys. Excuse my son’s face. Clearly under the influence of soft drink and Christmas Spirit. Also, I have no idea how to cut ham!

I think after that Christmas my parents clued on that I knew Santa wasn’t real.  It was weird, because we never said anything to each other.  Unless, something was spoken and I just choose not to remember that stuff. Again, magic!  Christmases were still the same, until I turned about 17/18.  My sister is 8 years younger than me, that’s a fair gap. Every Christmas me and my brother would all get excited, just like we did when we would have been her age.  Once you get older and try and path your way in life I have realised that Christmas gets trickier.  Kids or no kids.  My brother left home and joined the Army when he was 18.  I left home when I was 18 and pregnant by 20 and the rest is history.  Well, it’s not history there’s many Christmas memories had by all. 

If you’re keen for some more Christmas stories – read through my earlier blog posts, there’s a cracker one about how I stopped Christmas for an hour on Christmas Day about 5 years ago.  That was fun! Well it really wasn’t because I thought my kids were absolute arsehats for finding their presents, opening them, re wrapping them and then lying about it.  Fun!

The look of kids when they pretend they are excited about a present – when the fact is – they knew what it was all along. Not gullible, just sneaky.

However you celebrate Christmas in 2020 – here’s some helpful tips. In no particular order!

  • Keep your alcohol and water intake the same.  Or not #yolo
  • If people ask you if you need help, say yes.  Delegate that shit
  • Don’t leave your wrapping until Christmas Eve, unless that’s your thing then leave it until Christmas Eve – whatevs
  • Be kind to yourself. Always
  • It’s the thought that counts. Always
  • Find a Christmas Song playlist and dance in the house
  • Have some paper bags and extra rum balls or rocky road extra for any cousins you may of forgotten.
  • Do not pop anyone’s Santa Bubble.  Never
  • Believe in some sort of magic
  • Not everyone likes to celebrate this time of year for whatever reason and that’s ok, maybe ring/text them and ask if they are ok. Or pop over for a quick visit just to check on them

Or, if you or someone you know needs help, please call:

Lifeline 13 11 14

Beyond Blue 1300 22 4636

Kids Helpline 1800 55 1800

Other than that my friends – have a safe and fun festive season. 

Final note – I feel it’s important that I should mention that I gift my brother these creepy elves for gifts every now and then. He hates them. We gave him a Furby a few years ago. He loved that thing! Christmas. Fun for one and all!

A Burst Appendix, A 9 Year Old, Mum Guilt & When Is Ugly Crying Going To Be Acceptable?

I’ve been a parent for 18 years, raising 3 boys.  When you become a Mum or even when you’re pregnant, I remember people telling me “parenthood is the most wonderful thing in the world” and it is. Well, not 100% of the time, but for most of the time.

Over the weekend, I learnt a few things  – Mum Guilt is 100% real, I cry (a lot), Motherhood is an Emotional Rollercoaster and  I found out how tough my kid is.  My youngest, Mr 9, Billy was pretty sick this week.

What we thought was a bout of gastro turned out to be appendicitis.  I thought only adults got appendicitis.  WRONG.  Heck, I didn’t even know what appendicitis really was, expect my Granddad’s brother’s exploded on a Whaling Ship in the 1950s.

 7 days ago I woke at midnight with Billy, dry reaching over the toilet.  There was an email sent out from his school teacher earlier in the week saying a gastro bug was going around so I assumed it was that.  He had Friday off school, was eating a few things so didn’t think much more into it as he wasn’t really complaining either. Saturday morning, he started vomiting and he wasn’t walking properly because he said his back hurt.  That was a little concerning, so we went to the doctor straight away. Please tell me I haven’t been the only person to bring a bucket to the Doctors office?  I was hoping my GP was rostered on and good thing she was.  We seen the doctor pretty much straight away, she felt his tummy and then sent us down the hall to get an ultrasound.  Having had a few ultrasounds in my time and knowing that the sonographer can not actually tell you what the problem is (if any) I thought I would ask if he had any signs of gastro, knowing that it clearly wasn’t gastro by the way my GP was concerned.  Then she confirmed it had something to do with his appendix.  Back down the hall to the GP she rang the hospital, wrote a letter and off went.  We stopped off at home first to get my husband to drive us to the hospital.  We grabbed a pillow for the ride (which happened to have a Christmas pillow case on it) and his teddy Gordie.  An uncle gave Gordie to Billy when he was born.  For some strange reason Billy isn’t really into teddies, but Gordie is a constant sitter on Billy’s bed and seems to have a knack of coming to special events and holidays.  So when grabbing a few things for Billy’s bag I shoved Gordie in there.  I’m so glad I did.  He’s never left Billy’s side.

We got straight into the Emergency Department at about 11am Saturday and Billy’s surgery was 5pm that afternoon.  Amazing right?  In the ED the surgeon explained that there was ‘gunk’ around the appendix, which I didn’t realise until later that that meant that his appendix had in fact burst.

I’m not sure if it’s my age (late 30s) or if I’m just at the part of my life where I give zero fu*ks about much, but considering we were in a hospital, emotions get the better of most people I was trying so hard not to cry in front of Mr 9.  I hadn’t seen my husband since he dropped us off earlier that day.  We figured that it’s better one parent being with Billy rather than 2 and at that point we didn’t know his appendix had burst and thought it was all straight forward and only in the hospital for 1 night (as we were told that’s normal)  I soon discovered that I wanted my husband with me more than ever.  For both me and Billy.  All day I had tried not to cry to stay ‘brave and strong’ for Billy but to also stay strong for myself.  But I caved.  Apart from having 3 C Sections and a repaired hernia I’ve never been in an operation room.  Until Saturday. Billy joked that it will be like Grey’s Anatomy (clearly didn’t lose his sense of humour during his ordeal) When we got to theatre we met the theatre staff and Billy was prepped.  They put a gown and hair net on me, which I thought was weird because at any minute I knew I was going to cry.  Like Ugly Cry – I was sure of it.  But I was trying so hard not to cry because I didn’t want Billy to see me cry because I wasn’t the one about to have surgery on a burst appendix at the age of 9. 

The staff were all ‘fun’ and Billy was laughing but at the same time shitting his pants because all he knew was that he was going to count back from 10 then wake up and I’ll be by his side and won’t remember much.  The moment the theatre nurse told me to give him a kiss, seconds after he had been knocked out.  The tears started, not uncontrollably, but pretty damn close.  I am tearing up now even thinking about that moment.  It hit all the feels.  Every. Single. One! 

One thing people don’t tell you about being a Mum is Mum Guilt.  That shiz is REAL! Every Mum can tell you about something in their lives where they’ve had a dose of Mum Guilt. For example –  not being able to have the day off work for the kids swimming carnival or sports day, sending your kid to school or kindy without their lunch, thinking you packed it in their bag and they had to eat jam sandwiches from the school office that day.  Little things like that. 

Mother’s shouldn’t feel guilting, we go through ALOT and some days we are just lucky that we have kept the kids breathing and feed.  But Motherhood can be a total bit*ch and we cannot help it. The weekend my Mum Guilt was a classic of – should of, would of, could of.  I should of known that Billy didn’t have gastro and it was something worse.  I would of been able to go to the GP quicker and I could of not gone to work on Friday so I could see that it was worse than what it was. Then all this wouldn’t of happened.  Doesn’t work like that though!

 Now I’m no doctor and I couldn’t of possibly know any of that.  How do I know that if I had went to the Dr on Friday that she would of said that it was gastro, I don’t.  As I left Billy (while I was Ugly Crying) and the surgical team on Saturday for his operation I knew that my Mum Guilt should get stuffed.  I was hugged by the surgical nurse who told me a story about how she sent her son to school after he said he wasn’t feeling unwell and then told later that day that his kidney stones needed to be removed.  Mum Guilt!  She felt it as hard as I did. 

I must admit I watch WAY to many medical shows and lots of weird shit was going through my head while I was waiting for the operation to finish.  I was craving a hamburger and chips, I found a snack bar, was eating it and it was the most horrible burger in the history of horrible burgers.  Dead lettuce, the thickest end of a tomato and no cheese.  So I sat at a table in Southbank surrounded by Bin Chickens and I cried.  Not for long, but long enough for me to realise that I should probably pull myself together.  I almost went back to the burger place to give them a piece of my mind but I didn’t.  I went to Happy Pops instead and got an icecream.  The icecream I picked had diary in it, so that was fun, eating that when you’re dairy intolerant.  Then sat on the grass looking at the time for the next 20mins while my stomach grumbled at the fact that I just ate dairy.

The operations was to be 1 hour. I thought by the time I walked back to the hospital it would be near 6pm, the time it was to finish.  So that’s what I did.  I waited. It was now 6:40pm.  I finally got the phone call, but in the meantime I seen the surgeons on their way downstairs.  They explained his appendix did burst.  I started to cry.  Then thanked them a million times.  I got to the recovery room I cried.  Technically I was still crying from talking to the surgeons but this time I was Ugly Crying.  Again.  Seeing your kid hooked up to drips and his teddy bear next to him with bandages, hair nets and a mask on.  Makes the heart melt. 

The next night, Billy had trouble breathing and had a temperature.  He got sent to get an xray.  He didn’t really know what was going on, nor did I. Seems when you have your appendix burst your lungs can collapse and that’s exactly what happened. 

During our hospital stay Billy cried, he got angry, he got frustrated, it was an Emotional Rollercoaster for both of us. By day 3 post operation he finally came good – was back to his cheeky self.  Thank goodness.  This made me think how lucky Billy and our family are.  Not only to have an amazing hospital and hospital staff and access to health care.  Thankful that my Billy will be home for Christmas as there are many kids that aren’t as lucky and have to spend Christmas in a hospital.

As I write this, Billy is currently playing in the Starlight Children’s Foundation Australia Room.  It’s heaven for Billy.  There’s a PS5.  Someone donated to the hospital a PS5 – how amazing is that?  Billy also got a blanket from volunteers.  There’s thousands of blankets that volunteers make and the hospital give them to kids that have to stay in hospital for a period of time.  Then there’s a program where kids can hire iPads and Nintendo Switches to keep them busy while they stay in bed.  All these things I had no idea about. I’ve been lucky that none of my boys (until now) actually needed to stay in hospital for longer than 1 night.  If you or your family ever stay in a children’s hospital – ask about what is on offer – seriously it will ease your mind and you might even be able to get some well earned sleep. 

We get to go home today.  I think.  If not this afternoon, then definitely tomorrow.  Whatever day it is – I’m just glad we get to go home and sleep in our own beds, see my husband, my 2 other boys and Sargeant, my dog. 

This isn’t the best way to end 2020 but I’m most grateful that Christmas will be at home and next time there’s a fundraiser for the Queensland Children’s Hospital at Woolies or on the tv – this family will be donating.  Hope you can do the same.

Have You Been To An Aldi Special Buy – No? Here’s Some Tips

Aldi Special Buys are fuc*en stressful!

Note from the Editor – I love Aldi.  Aldi is where we do our fortnightly food shop.  It’s great.  I love it.  Pack you own items, be fast to put it in your trolley and then go back and return your trolley.  Oh and the kicker, the food is great quality and much cheaper than Woolworths and Coles!  #aldiforlife

This is correct – can Aldi please bring back Pop Tarts?

I went to an Aldi Special Buy and I don’t think I want to ever go to another one ever again.  Picture this. 

Husband:  We should get a new vacuum Babe, you deserve it. 

Me: That’s a good idea, I’ll read the reviews

Husband:  The sale starts Saturday

*Disclaimer – I’m a cleaner and my husband saying I ‘deserve’ a vacuum is because he hates my work vacuum because he doesn’t know how to empty it nor does he know how to use it correctly. 

I read the reviews and they were good and for the price, it was a bargain.  Here’s a hot tip for all the non married people in the world or for all the single people in the world.  When the wife or husband says “we” it does not necessarily mean YOU or ME.  In my experience as a married woman it means ‘one of us’.  Given the fact that it was me that was going to use it every day for work then of course I would be the one to actually go buy it.  I reluctantly said I would go get it.  What I didn’t know was that it was on sale on a Saturday.  At Aldi.  If you are an active Aldi shopper or a shopper at all, you know that Aldi is crazy on Wednesdays and Saturdays – those are the Special Buy days. 

I go shopping fortnightly and on a Wednesday at Aldi. I haven’t been working for the last few months so I would drop my son off at school at then go to Aldi.  Totally oblivious to Special Buy Wednesday I was ready to leave the car, with my trolley token and begin my shop.  It was 5 minutes before opening time (8:25), by the time I crossed the car park, got my trolley I would be ready to roll.  However there was a situation.  Just as I was getting out of my car I noticed heaps of people lined up, I’m seeing at least 50 people all lined up before the doors opened.  It was at this point I returned to my car and sat there for 10mins.  What the hell is going on?

While I was in the car – I googled the Aldi sale that started that day. There was a lot of wooden kid toys – like doll houses and doll house furniture and for something totally not related to dolls houses or kids were DeLongi coffee machines and the most loved appliance in our house, the humble air fryer.  Flashback to May, I made my husband go to Aldi the day before Mothers Day to get the air   fryer that was on sale that day.  Although I had no idea how crazy the sales were at that time.  I just said the opening time is 8am so told him to get there before then.  My Husband is pretty clicked on to these things it seems, news to me as he never does any sort of shopping.  This is the same Husband that does absolutely NO Christmas shopping unless he knows exactly where to go and he knows exactly what product to get.  Yet, his presents are top notch.  So annoying.  The morning he went to get the air fryer he was out of bed, dressed, had his coffee and in the car by 7:20.  He said he was 3rd in line and 1st to get an air fryer.  Yes, this is the same man that never goes shopping.  Ever.  But somehow nabs the most wanted present for Mother’s Day.  Although, secretly, I think he did all that because there wasn’t a Plan B for another Mother’s Day present.  Husband said he loved it – loved the thrill of racing people and ‘power walking’ to the back of the store to get what he came for.  My experience was the total opposite. 

The morning I went to get the vacuum, I woke up at 7am, was in line by 7:35.  This is under the ‘direction’ of my Husband (eye roll) Surely it can’t be that bad?  Oh it was.  It was all that and more.  By the time I lined up I was the 6th person in line.  I text Husband and he said and I quote “oh dear, you might miss out”  What the fuck? I’m the 6th person in line?  That was when I started to stress out.  At the same time I was messaging my bestie telling her that I was freaking out because of what my husband said.  Then she said the same bloody thing!  What the fuck?  I went to her for support and she totally sent me to the wolves.  Well, not really.  But this whole situation had become very stressful and there was 5 mins until they opened the door.  Then to add to my stress levels, I was thinking about the protocol of what to do when you actually get in the store? 

Do you run, do you jog, do you power walk? What’s the procedure?  Then when you grab the item that you’ve been standing in line for 40 minutes for do you just grab it and stuff everyone else?  And what if you go on the wrong side of the aisle and there’s 1 left and you and someone else go to grab it at the same time?  So much crap like this was going through my head.  It’s very stressful.  Tell me you can relate?

Finally, the doors opened and it was Go Time. I walked faster than usual while driving my trolley.  I totally fluked it and got the correct aisle.  Low and behold, there it was.  The $99 vacuum that I had been stressing about for the last 1 hour.  I quickly put one in my trolley, then I turned around and a massive wave of people came towards me.  I say about 6.  All with trolleys. They were either buying the vacuum or the steel cap boots that were also a Special Buy.  At that point I really couldn’t give a shit what was going on.  I wanted out!  Pronto!  There was a lady calling out to her friend Sally, who was on the other side of the aisle calling out to her friend, a baby crying, a toddler that had walked away from their parents and the Dad was yelling at her to come back as they were looking at something.  I was the first person to leave the area, go to the register and get the hell out of there.  The checkout lady asked how I was going?  I said better now, that I’m leaving.  She told me that on a Special Buy Saturday a guy was lined up at 5:30AM for a TV!!  5:30 in the morning.  2.5 hours before opening time.  For a TV.  Now, I love a bargain, but I am definitely not committed to getting up that early and sitting in a line for a TV or a phone or a burger.  I have however, lined up for a Powderfinger cd and a few concerts at The Arena in Fortitude Valley but that was in the 90s – the world was much better then than it is now.  But kudos to that man that got his tv.  He would have been as happy as I would have been when I was 16. 

My first Saturday Aldi Special Buy was a success.  Excluding the major stress levels that I went through in 1 hour.  I got home by 8:20, had myself a nice breakfast and then started the day.  It was a stress free day.  Funny little confession though – I didn’t use the vacuum until about 1 month after I bought it.  I’m not a fan of the hose, but it does the job that it is intended too. 

I don’t mind packing my own bags – My my was a check out chick manager and she taught me all the tricks and tips

So, if you ever have to go to an Aldi Special Buy day be that either on a Wednesday or a Saturday – I wish you ALL the luck in the world.  Like seriously, ALL the luck.  Maybe have a shot of vodka before you leave home or send you husband or a teenager.  Teenagers are brutal, they give zero shits about anything, am I right? Wonder if being in Aldi would make a difference?  Actually, it would.  I take that back.  Or just be like me, get there early, be totally naïve, wing it, get your item and get the heck out of there and drive home.  What was the worst that could happen?  It could be like those horrible videos you seen on the internet where ladies are fighting over wedding dresses and toilet paper.  Then the police get called, their hair is a mess, they have black eyes and they are going absolutely nuts. Then you’re an internet sensation for all the wrong reasons and then end up on A Current Affair and the local or national news or the Today Show.  Whatever you do to get your Aldi Special Buy I am sending many, many good vibes from the universe to you.  You will need it! 

Happy Shopping friends!!