Time to get back on the horse

Our youngest kid, Mischief, is now happily at school.

This means Mama Cookie finally has some days to herself after years of changing arses, singing offtune, making up condensed versions of books whilst reading aloud, and picking playdough out of the rug.

This means looking for a job outside the house. With actual pay!! How exciting.

Apparently 9 years out of the work force may be too much for some peeps to take a gamble on me, even though it's not like I have been sitting around smoking reefers and eating hash cookies ALL this time.  

So I have started coming up with something to pad out the ol' CV to cover the last 9 years MIA in the paid employment arena. So far I have come up with:

* Has watched every show of Oprah's final season. Hoooooo'ooooooooo.

* Can come up with a small limerick or rhyme to go with almost any situation.

"What's that smell in the bedroom?
 What's that smell under the bed?
Is it a pair of dirty undies?
or is it rotting fruit instead?!'

* You can throw me in any high pressure situation and I'll multi-task (read halfarse) my way through it, come out the other end with a slight twitch, throw back a bottle of Beam and get ready for the next one!

That's what you call life skills.  Someone will take on me on and be hugely disappointed, um delighted with their decision.

Sometimes I wish I had faith

It's hard when you don't have a faith to fall back on. At times I really wish I did. Maybe it would be easier to reconcile the why's. Logic sometimes has no reason.

Not the George Michael kind of faith either. Although, great song. Love it. Well, I guess it would be nice.

Anyway.

Sometimes it makes you wonder about it all. Not in the existential sense, because I'm not all that fond of putting my life in someone else's hands and/or decisions. I like to think that when I fuck up, it's all my own doing. A learning experience if you will. They say that fail stands for First Attempt In Learning. I don't know what a second, third or fifteenth fail stands for.

I digress.

Our family has had some shite thrown at it lately. We are sitting tight on the premise that we have had our fair share and are up for a bit of sunshine and growth now.

If you are in my close circle you will know that my cousin took her own life recently. I am only going to state the painfully unobvious here in this post and indelicately rude and inappropriate, because I will bust into a fit of tears otherwise. And that, whilst perhaps good reading, does not allow me to finish what I have started.

I am angry. I am livid. I can't believe what she has done to me. Despite what she thought was going on, I am fucking gutted that she did not give me the opportunity to stop this. She has a fucking daughter that has to grow up in the shadow of a mum who has done this. I have to explain suicide to my own children when they should be learning fucking times tables.

I am heartbroken, I am despondent, I am losing lustre for life. I feel like she has taken an easy route out, a sucker's route, a selfish route. I have been feeling pain that is indescribable and I haven't fucking hung myself. Why the fuck did she?

I am.... lost. I don't know what to do most times of the day now. I think of her at random moments. I wonder. I don't understand.

I want to wake up from a really, really bad dream. And I was wrong earlier, because nothing will let me finish this yet. Open wounds and all that. I still can't voice all I want to say.

I want this not to be happening though.

High spirits in the face of adversity

My brother just moved to Lyttelton, a few weeks ago. And just over a week ago there was a massive earthquake. You may have seen it in the news. It was a biggie, around 6.6 on the Richter scale, and it did some severe damage to the town where it was centred and to the city that was nearby. At this stage there are a reported over 160 people confirmed dead, with numbers ready to rise.

My nephew was getting ready to jump into the pool for swimming lessons with his brand new primary school when the earth shook and the wall caved in. He was shipped out to the middle of the school field and safety.

Big bro's house shook up a storm but sustained no damage, other than losing power and water, sewerage etc. He was still evacuated due to a potential landslide above his home.

The town was a mess, and a national state of emergency declared. All descended on the Civil Defence centre to assess, receive food and water, and check on the welfare of their friends and family.

In the midst of all this mayhem, hope and laughter and a fighting spirit prevailed.

This is what happened during those moments after this quake.

The spirit of Kiwi's won't be broken, even if the buildings are. And yep, that's my bro juggling away and hula hooping in there.

Trying to win me a Sock Zombie

So, Chelle over at Coffee and Zombie Movies is having a competition to win a most gorgeous Sock Zombie named Rhoda. She looks gorgeous.

I want her.

In order to gain entry to the competition to win this wee darling, I have to post a pic of ugly bread that I have made.

I don't tend to bake bread too often, so here for your viewing pleasure is a pic of Powdered Toast Man, of Ren and Stimpy fame, oh how I loved that show.

Also, this may gain me more cred in the baking side of the deal, this is a pic of the Mr Hanky gingerbread men that the kids and I made last Krismas for Santa (ignore the date stamp, I can never be bothered resetting it when I change over batteries, much to my mother's chagrin when she's sorting her albums).

Keep your fingers crossed that I win!!!!

Also, my formatting is all over the show in this post, but I want the zombie so bad that I don't want to risk taking the time to fix it and miss out on the competition.

So there.. Just deal with it.

Not feeling the love.

Thought I should post something here. It's been a while.

Can't for the fucking life of me figure out what to put.

Fuck it.

Go hard or go home!! Yeah baby.

Photo from: www.zazzle.com.au

Well that totally fucks that idea too. Hmmm.

I'll get back to you.

Gently caress you Mofo

Sometimes all life has to offer you is a big bag of shit. Grab a shovel, spread it out and throw some seeds in it. Let the flowers grow. It takes time, but they will grow.

It's hard to see past that initial pile of shit sometimes.

My niece passed away 2 years ago. She would have turned three 3 weeks ago. My nephew passed away 6 weeks ago, he would now be 7 months old. My nana passed away just after my niece did. I got a phone call a few hours ago saying my cousin lost her 5 week old baby this morning.

I lost my friend when my niece went. My brother's wife. She was a really, really good friend to me. When her daughter went, me having four kids who were healthy was too much. This sucks. I understand in a way. Not completely, nor do I ever want to. We no longer speak. When her son was diagnosed was the final straw for her.

I am now there 100% for my brother, which is good. He needs it. I should have been more about him in the first place, but women wear their emotions on their sleeve more, so tend to look like they need more help. He needs it too. I take comfort in all the shit that has happened that we are now more emotionally tied than before. I hope he bears up okay.

My heart goes out to my cousin, and I hope that she keeps herself strong. I hope her other children can rely on her. I hope she has someone close to reach out to. I hope this never happens to our family ever again.

Somehow, some way, flowers will grow from this.

Black outs and Baby Jebus

I am sitting post blackout. We had another stirling electrical storm with thunder and lightening just overhead. The kids were in the pool, with me supervising the weather. Rain - cool. Thunder - cool. Lightening - not so cool. Time to get out. I'm a good mum like that. Always have the kiddies best interests at heart.

So with a power outage due to the storm we set about getting candles ready in case of a long haul. Also sorted out a bbq dinner. Then the kids wanted activities. The candle lighting gave Missy an idea. "Can we do a ceremony for Jesus?"

Hmmm.

Now, I don't class myself as an atheist, although many seem intent of whacking me in a box of some sort, but I don't believe in a God. I do, however, respect any one else's belief system whatever it may be. I also have enough respect in their beliefs to add an initial capital to the name God. See, very accommodating.

The subject matter comes up from time to time in the house as the kids pick up stories and ideas from their friends at school, and especially around this time of year. I tend to tell them what the mainstream story is surrounding what they have heard, throw in a couple of alternatives that others might believe, and ask them their thoughts on the matter. We have always been open with them that dad is a 'pro' (sorry, but always gives me a chuckle) and mum goes for the negative.

The kids themselves aren't hugely fussed either way at present. They are just wee sponges that suck up info, regardless of the topic matter. I don't really think any of them are of an age to make up their mind as to what side of the fence, or even which fence they sit on. It's all just information.

They all have the choice at school as to whether they will participate in "Scripture" classes, and which denomination they prefer. At present the younger two, 6 and 7, have chosen Non-scripture. Our eldest picked Catholic for the tail end of the year, after the first two terms of Non-scripture resulted in extra maths work. Not cool teachers. Talk about subtly determining their choices.

Arse-end result of this natter is that Missy, 6, asked if they could draw pictures of baby Jesus to hang in the house. Liberal ole Me figured that this was okay if that's what they wanted and I now have multiple pictures that resemble a cocoon with a human head poking out hanging from my ceiling. Because they need to twirl apparently. As do many of us.