The Subject Of Selfies

Reasons I rarely take selfies: 

• I have a dinosaur phone with a flip case. Apparently it's a 'mum' thing. I thought it was just a broke economical thing. Silly me. 
• I AM a dinosaur. Consequently I can't take a decent photo to save my life. And I use idiotic expressions like 'can't take a photo to save my life'.
• Duck face selfies are stupid. Related: they should be called cat's bum selfies instead. See above.
• I don't like my double chin. Okay, chins.
• I have no idea where I put my selfie stick... Hmmmm....
• My house is quite...shall we say... lived in... Nobody needs to see that.
• My life revolves around trips to Aldi and the doctor. Riveting. These occasions don't exactly strike me selfie opportunities.
• My fashion style is basically described as 'whatever still fits'. So, yeah. Nothing to show there.
• I'm told I can be quite negative. Pffft. Can't imagine why. So I don't really get into the whole hashtag blessed etc phenomenon.

Reasons I probably could (I won't say should) take selfies sometimes:

• Nobody cares about my double chins besides me, and if they do, screw them.
• My children might actually want to remember me one day, despite their current vehement antipathy to featuring in any photos with me on social media.
• If I ever become a missing person or a murder victim, the authorities will have to use a dated image of me, such as the one of my bald noggin when I had chemo. On the plus side, I was assured that I have a lovely shaped head. Related: I may have been listening to too many true crime podcasts...
• Last time I posted a selfie on Facey I had several people comment on how GORGEOUS I am. They were probably just blowing smoke up my arse, but I don't get many compliments, so I'll take it.
• Taking a selfie, however bad, might be a good distraction when I'm feeling wobbly (ie anxious) when out and about.
• Who says you have to be good at everything you do? Just do it anyway. Perfect is boring. I'd never do anything if I had that attitude. Oh wait...
• I recently had a haircut and I have finally lost the frizz! It's now just wavy but not frizzy. Okay, that's not that exciting to anyone else but me. I can finally get a brush through it again! YAY! 

So I should probably end this with a selfie, but I'm wearing an alluring combo of track suit pants and a purple Best & Lest jumper that's seen better days. Actually, I lie. It never had better days. It was always hideous. I think your mental picture should be sufficient. You're welcome.

But I will 'get in the picture' at some point...

Over and out.

Do you take selfies? What is the best way to disguise double chins? 

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Ideal Meal

 Greetings!

Here I am again. Back to talk about one of my favourite topics: FOOD!

So what is my ideal meal, you ask? 

These days, my ideal meal would have to be almost anything I don't have to cook. It's frightfully rude how I am expected to do so every single night. HMPH.

But since I like to eat every day, I do get on with it and manage to produce something vaguely edible. They're not necessarily 'ideal' or 'favourite' meals, but they're good enough. 

My actual favourites would have to be anything cooked by my mum. Especially her roasts and desserts, including her infamous apple pie.

Other than that, I do enjoy a good lobster mornay. However, I never cook it, because I'm quite terrible at making things like mornay sauce. Consequently I haven't had this delicacy in YEARS.

I find such meals are best enjoyed with a good bottle of wine. Also; dessert afterwards. There's always room for dessert! 

There I am, above. enjoying some lobster mornay with a glass of wine. It was such a long time ago I do not remember where this photo was taken. I suspect in was way back in the grand and glorious pre-children days. It seems like a parallel universe now. We actually went on nice relaxing holidays and ate at lovely restaurants that didn't serve chicken nuggets. Those were the days. Sigh.

Of course, I couldn't get through this post without mentioning my beloved cakies. They may not be considered a meal exactly, but as I mentioned above, there's always room for dessert.

On the other hand, if I want to have cake for breakfast, why not? Yep, I am literally one of those disgusting people who could seriously eat cake for breakfast. No surprise that I struggle with my weight and cholesterol levels. Oops. 

I mean, I don't eat cake for breakfast. Well, most of the time I don't...  But I could.  Well, what is the difference between having cake or pancakes or waffles? They're all so so bad and so so GOOD. If you know what I mean. 

So there you are. Just a short and sweet serving from me, because my brain seems to not be working and I can't get the words right. 

Conclusion:  My ideal meal would involve a roast or lobster mornay and cakies. When you say that all together in one sentence, it confirms what I already suspected: I am gross and disgusting. 

Over and out. 

What about you?

Are you gross and disgusting?

Uh I mean, what is your ideal meal? 

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About Being The Baby (With Bonus Dilly Dallying)

Hello again, dear and delightful people. Okay, person. There must be at least one person reading out there. I hope...

 And I can say you're delightful because you're inside the computer. This makes it SO much easier. I don't even have to get dressed, although I am. Badly. See? Easier all round. I can wear awful clothes and your eyeballs are spared that atrocity. 

Anyway, on with the show. Or the blog post. You know what I mean... 

This popped up in my Facebook memories this morning:

It made me realise that I am quite fond of a bit of dilly dallying. I do it here all the time, popping in and out at my fancy.  Nothing wrong with that, right?

But I'm here now, so let's get on with it. I'm wondering if my propensity towards dilly dallying has anything to do with my birth order? I was the baby of the family. I have one older brother.

The first thing I discover when I google birth order is, the stereo-type for the 'baby' of the family is being a free spirit, a risk taker and charming. Well yes, I am quite charming in my own way. Aren't I?

But as for the other two - forgeddaboutit! I am definitely not a risk taker, at any rate.

Meanwhile, I did go on to have three children of my own, despite being a hard core introvert. Hmmmm, maybe I AM a risk taker? 

Anyway, what I was going to say was,  I didn't really think 'middle child syndrome' was  a thing until I had three children.  All I am going to tactfully say is, my middle child and my youngest have an interesting relationship. It could certainly be described as love/hate at times. It can be quite difficult and complicated to navigate as a parent. 

I remember watching The Brady Bunch as a kid. It was always Jan and Peter, the middle siblings, who seemed to be having a permanent identity crisis.  The Brady Bunch is a totally credible, realistic and cutting edge show to use as a reference. Or something. Okay, maybe not. But I just like to bring up a random daggy pop culture reference, because that's how I roll. Deal with it. 

Incidentally, my 'baby', aka Mr 8, is off on his first ever overnight camp tonight. I did find myself becoming considerably more anxious about this fact than I remember being for the other two. Are we inclined to be more over protective towards the youngest child? On the other hand, there is also the theory that by the time you get to number three you're much more... ahem...relaxed...

Thinking about it, I guess it would have been interesting for me had my parents decided to have more children. That would have made me the middle child.  Evidently my mum was firm in her decision to only have two children, so I stayed the 'baby'. To this day I am still a mummy's (and daddy's) girl. I am not sure how much of this is due to my birth order or my personality. I've always been shy, quiet and introverted. And, as it turned out, autistic. But I didn't know about the latter growing up.

Oh! Random segue: I suddenly recalled a funny incident when we brought my second born son home from the hospital. His brother, then Mr 3, suggested to me that we could put him in the bin and the garbage truck would come and get him! So there was definitely a bit of jealousy going on at the beginning. They're good buddies now, thankfully.

And I think that is all I have to say about birth order. The conclusion: I have no idea. But this 'baby' still likes dilly dallying. I'm off to do so right now. 

What about you?

What is your birth order? Do you think it effects your personality?

Are you a middle child? Or a dilly dallyer? 

Have I asked enough pointless questions? Should I throw in one more? 


Someone make me stop asking questions...

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