Punching air rather than my husband

Its a cold freezing day. Freezing freezing. And a bit rainy. And lots of freezing.

Which means we are all in the house. Together. No escape. And its beginning to feel claustrophobic. Or like I'm in an episode of 'Big Brother'. Because surely, people couldn't possibly be attempting to piss me off this much if it's not for others entertainment and *quality viewing*.

I cannot win a trick today. Not one.

And that is mostly due to The Farmer being a shit stirring prick really lovely person.

All I am hearing is blah blah blah today. I'm sure there are words in there, but they are far from important.





For today at least.

Think I'm over exaggerating?

"Farmer, you really need to to do your tax. Its annoying me. And the lovely people at centrelink keep reminding that you have until the end of June, so please, go and do it. Its not that hard".

Que whinging tone.

"Well have you made me an appointment?"

At no point did I realise I had taken on the role of secretary.

"Why cant you make your own appointment? After all, you know when your available!"

This is where the farmer told me all about how he was SOOOO organised to go, he is just waiting on me to make the appointment for him. Because, clearly, he cant use a phone.

This is the point that I started laughing, secretly under my breath, because it was the biggest joke I had ever heard! I snuck off outside, thinking, knowing, that I could totally win this. With one little phone call.

I pulled out the life saving iPhone, and googled accountants in town. I called. I got him an appointment for that afternoon. In an hour.

I was punching air! I am the QUEEN! Never speak to me like that Farmer and blame me for your lazy arse.

I came back inside and told him to grab all his stuff that he has so organised because he has an appointment in an hour. He accused me of lying.
The reason he accused me of lying, is because he was calling the accountant at the same time and they told him they had no bookings that day. power of woman!
He ranted, and raved actually, about how much of a liar I was. I laughed hard. And told him to sit and watch me cancel his appointment. Which I promptly did.

His jaw dropped.

The secretary laughed herself silly.

I punched air again.




Now I sit here. On top of the world. Or mine, at least.

Have you ever had a win so good, that it filled your heart with glee?

Kids are assholes and parenting is a bitch.

I have an amazing friend that I went to school with. She lives on the other side of the country to me. She has recently become a new mum. I am so happy for her.

My friends little sister recently moved to my town. And even more recently she had a brand new little baby girl.

Today, the pressure that is applied to mums has really hit me, smack in the face.

This girl I know has been doing it tough. Really tough. But I didnt know.

I didnt know that a few hours after she and I had coffee together, when I sensed something was wrong but didnt say anything, she went to hospital for three weeks.

What disgusts me most, is that whilst in hopsital trying to get herself better, get her head back where it needs to be, she became worse. Each nurse that came on with the change of shift gave her advice that conflicted with the one before. She felt she could not anything right. Nothing was working. She was drowning.

She still isnt well. And I'm not sure how I can help, without looking pushy, or like a mothering Nazi. I dont know this girl well, but for the sake of mothers everywhere, for the sake of a tiny baby girl who needs her mamma, I'm so there.

So whilst talking to her sister today, I had a revelation.

We decided that a lot of the issue was the advice. The books. The 'baby whiperers' with all their great plans and routines that you should stick by. It was killing this mum because it wasnt working!

No one tells you that kids are assholes and learning to be a mum is a bitch of a job!!! And one that you have to learn.
No book from Angus and Robertson is going to teach you to be a mum. No amount of googling will make you good at it. We need to know that its a day by day thing. That each day changes and you generally have to adapt to that each day.

That being a mum makes you a chameleon. You are constantly needing to change your colours.

So, tonight, I am thinking of embarking on a little project, and I would LOVE your help!!!!

Please, shoot me through an email and let me know your story, of how you have learnt to adapt to being a mum, to changing your colours regularly. Your parenting fails, and wins, and how parenting can be a bitch!

 Politically incorrect is more than welcome :)