Not So Guilty Pleasures

Good morning Groovers and Shakers (or afternoon as the case may be). Welcome to another fabulous Thursday, which is only one day away from Friday! This thought is comforting until the moment you realise you're a parent and Fridays mean nothing anymore. In fact, I have to be up on Saturday morning to take two out of three boys to trial soccer matches at 9am. YAY.

Today the illustrious Lounge Lizards want to know what my guilty pleasures are. I'm not sure I'm sufficiently guilty enough about any of my vices. I haven't been persuaded to abandon any of them that is for certain. Sadly it would seem that most of my 'not guilty enough' pleasures revolve around food.  Of the cakie kind. What a shock. You were expecting me to admit to having a Friday night bong every week. weren't you?

I'm afraid I agree with the wonderful Dolly Parton who famously said in her biography My Life And Other Unfinished Business: "Food is my weakness. I'll take a sandwich and a shake over a jug and a joint any time." You'll have to imagine Dolly's unmistakable twang.  Okay, so I read biographies by Dolly and other stars. Guilty. I may also own at least one Dolly CD titled Both Sides Of Dolly Parton. I'm not sure whether she was trying to be funny with that title.

Anyway, I think we've already established that I have the worst taste in music EVER, but since I'm shameless in my Carpenters addiction I'm not sure if it qualifies as a 'guilty' pleasure. I don't have one iota of ironic distance in my passionate love of their music. In fact, apparently this adoration makes me old school Emo. I knew I was sensitive and emotional.

When it comes to TV, I don't really watch much of it. I'd rather poke my eyeballs out than watch My Kitchen Rules or The Biggest Loser, but I have been known to take in a bit of Big Brother. This is purely for research purposes. Meaning, I have to keep up my bogan cred somehow for the sake of this blog. That's my excuse anyway. I mean, the whole Carpenters loving, goody two shoes Pollyanna image is totally ruining my bogan status. I need to shake things up a bit and watch some puerile Reality TV. It's either that or taking up a pack a day and slab of VB a week habit. Or giving my boys rats tails. Tantamount to child abuse some would say.

I'm also partial to bit of Dr Phil at lunch time. How's that working for you? It's working out okay, thanks Dr Phil. Until that stoopid The Doctors show comes on after it, then I have to switch it off because SQUEAMISH. Plus I don't want to be worrying about all the possible illnesses I may have. At least hypochondria is the one illness I'll never have. BOOM TISH.

The only other guilty pleasure I can think of is actually blogging itself. Then there is all the reading and commenting on other blogs which can all be time consuming. Meanwhile, there are a million other things I could be doing. At the very least I did my exercise first and broke a sweat before I paid any attention to this blog again this morning. All the other stuff can wait. Of course, I'm also addicted to Facebook. There's a very good reason for that.

I do feel somewhat guilty about the pitiful example I am setting for my boys by being online constantly. On the positive side I don't have an Iphone or Smart Phone so at least I'm not always online when I'm out as well.

But surely my most embarrassing guilty pleasure is when I come across an old Enid Blyton book and start reading them again as an adult. Frightfully shameful. Especially when I read a passage from Six Cousins Again the sequel to Six Cousins At Mistletoe Farm where the character says:

"Surely our ducks quack more loudly than any others?" groaned Mrs Longfield, early in the morning. "And need we keep that cock, he wakes me regularly at dawn?"

Upon reading this I chuckle as if I'm an immature eight year old reading it for the first time again. But you have to admit those Enid Blyton books were rather smashing. For children. Ahem.

Now, you'll have to excuse me. Dr Phil is starting. Shut up.

Linking up with Tegan from Musings Of The Misguided for The Lounge.

                                               
                                                        What are your guilty pleasures?

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The Stuff I Would Outsource

Today I am contemplating the things or areas of my life that I would wish to outsource if I could. I'm thinking that they are going to be pretty freaking obvious. I mean, who wouldn't outsource all house work and mind numbing chores if they could? If you answered that YOU wouldn't, it's likely that you are deeply insane and require therapy immediately.  Or that you are simply a too good to be true anal retentive perfectionist. If so, unfortunately we can't be friends because I could  never invite you into my dishevelled house for a cakie and a cuppa. Which would be devastating for you. I'm pretty awesome, after all. Even if my house isn't.

Clearly, all house work would be at the top of my list of potential out sourcing. Is it one word, or two? Who knows. Whatever. If I never had to scrub a toilet again it would be way too soon for me. Ugh. Especially as I live in a house with four males and we only have one toilet. Because that is how non-cashed up bogans do it.  We don't live in double storey split level Mc Mansions with six bedrooms and four bathrooms.  Fark, imagine having to clean that many bathrooms? Frankly I don't want the Mc Mansion unless it comes with a cleaner as well.

Of course there is also the lovely little problem of Lego. I would love to have a Lego Fairy as well as a House Work and Dinner Fairy. We seem to possess truck loads of the stuff and while I do insist that Mr 5 and 9 pick it up themselves, somehow it has a mind and a will of it's own and still seems to migrate to every possible corner and crevice of the house.

When I'm getting dressed and notice something odd inside my shoe. Lego.

When I ease my weary, aching body into bed of an evening only to find something uncomfortable in my nether regions. Lego.

When I'm frantically searching through my handbag or car for a coin for the trolley at Aldi. What do I find instead? Lego.

When I want to just be able to plug the vacuum cleaner in and give the house a once over. What do I find? A million bloody random tiny pieces of Lego that are inevitably going to be sucked into my brand new 500 hundred dollar Dyson and begin rattling away. Sigh.

Another area of life I wish I could outsource or at the very least, avoid,  is Awkward Conversations With Acquaintances You Don't Know Very Well. You know the kind. The person you might walk past almost everyday during school drop off and pick up. You don't really know them but you still feel obliged to say a polite hello. Then you might mention the weather and how much your children have all grown, at which point you've completely run out of things to say to each other. So you mumble something about how you better get going and flee. Rinse. Repeat. Everyday. Or every other day. Same thing. I am truly awful and hideous but how many times can you have the same banal conversation? Of course, I suppose the only way to get to know people is to actually talk to them but...jeez, don't get all logical on me. Okay, I'm just an anti-social biatch! Deal with it. Hmph.

I would also love to be able to clone myself so that I could outsource all of those horrid, mortifying doctors appointments such as Pap Smears. The only conversation that is more awkward than the ones you have with acquaintances you don't know very well are the ones you have with your GP or Gyno while they have a cold speculum inserted in your doo dah. Look, I was going to go with va jay jay but changed my mind at the last minute. Doo dah it is. Not the technical term but you know what I mean. Shut up.

Which reminds me, I am going to get my tits squashed (ie. Mammogrammed) for the first time next Monday and I expect it shall be not only awkward but frightfully painful. Why don't men have to have their bollocks squashed to buggery? So unfair. I am pausing to pout and sulk a for a little while as weepy violin music swells in the background. Right, sulking ceased. Violin music fades.

On with the show. Other things I wish I could outsource:

Packing: I am a chronic over packer. If there was such a thing as Over Packers Anonymous I would certainly be a member. Plus, I tend to become overly stressed over the whole procedure. Despite extensive list making I always seem to worry that I'll forget something vital.

Cooking: I am constantly waiting for the old Dinner Fairy that never shows up. Sometimes I don't mind cooking but when you have to cook everyday for a family of fussy eaters it becomes a tad tedious. The resulting washing up is even more tedious especially when you don't have a dishwasher. Yep, we're certifiable.

Parent/Teacher Interviews: I sometimes wish I could clone myself for these or outsource them too. For some absurd reason they make me squirm. I somehow feel like I'm back at school doing some sort of exam or test and I'm never sure what questions I'm supposed to ask. Also, I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't understand the boys homework should the subject come up. Mr 12's parent/teacher interviews are coming up and I've suddenly realised that now that he is in High School I'll have to see several different teachers instead of just one. Save me.

Well, there you have it. That's the stuff I would outsource.  I should probably think about outsourcing this  blog too but I won't because it's got my name on it. So ner.

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.

                                             
                                                  What areas of your life would you outsource?

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No Idea

Well it seems that I have run out of ideas for blog posts. Unthinkable really, as I am totally fascinating and a deep and complex thinker so one would never think this could ever happen. I mean I can think about two very important things at the same time. Cake and Karen Carpenter. The juxtaposition of thinking of fattening, sugary carbs and the World's most famous anorexic simultaneously, proves what an intense thinker I am. Plus, I used the word juxtaposition without being entirely sure of what it means and if it's in the correct context. But I still used it. Ditto simultaneously. Using big words means you're deep and intellectual, right?

Anyway, I figured why not traul the Internet looking for inspiration and ideas for blog posts. Groundbreaking right? I'm sure nobody has ever done that before. Alternatively, I could just back away from the lap top and give it a rest but the advice is to always write even you don't feel like writing and clearly I'm a very serious writer, practically a literary genius really so I need to be dedicated to my art. I owe it to the World to not deprive them of my sheer brilliance. Or something. Shut up.

After a quick Google search I have stumbled upon the following brilliant suggestions here, some of which I may just have to give a whirl. Apparently they will make my blog HOT. It's already hot though, so after this I expect it will be SCORCHING. Be careful in case your eye sockets spontaneously combust while reading this due to the level of scorchingness ( it's a word, right?).

IDEAS

RUN A CONTEST/GIVEAWAY

This would be an absolutely sterling idea if I actually had a prize to deliver. Honestly though, aren't contests just a teensy, tiny little bit -well...tiresome. All that comment on this, like that or tell us why you want to win in 25 words or less and you might win some miserable little thing that you managed to exist without perfectly easily for decades. Or is that just me? No wonder I never win anything, not even the bloody meat raffles at the RSL. They are totally rigged I reckon.


REVIEW A BOOK/FILM

This would actually involve going to see a film, something I rarely do.  I did manage to catch that About Time one with Rachel McAdams and I thought it was crap while every one else who's seen it seems to love it. Does that count as a review?

I do not wish to review books. This would make feel like I'm back at school writing essays. *shudders*


MAKE A COMPREHENSIVE GUIDE/TUTORIAL

I know nothing. About everything. I have no advice, knowledge, skills or insight about anything on the planet ever.


INTERVIEW SOMEONE

Brilliant idea. Except that I happen to be all alone right now. And I can't be bothered ringing, emailing or visiting anyone because of the fact that I'm all alone right now and frankly, I'm enjoying the peace. So bugger that.


CRITICISE A WEBSITE BLOG OR PERSON

Now that is just mean! What kind of a person or website would suggest doing such a horrible, mean spirited thing just to get people to click on your blog? Haven't they ever heard the saying 'if you haven't got anything nice to say, don't say anything at all'? What a disgraceful suggestion. I can't believe anyone would ever suggest such a thing. Hmph! Oh wait.. you see what I did there?


CREATE A PHOTO POST

If you've ever seen my photos, you'll wish you hadn't. So I'm sparing you the affront to your eyes by not taking up this option. You're welcome.


WRITE AN INSPIRATIONAL OR MOTIVATIONAL POST

Eat cake. That's inspirational enough for me.


SHARE RECENT TRAVEL EXPERIENCES

In January we went to the NSW Central Coast which is basically like Boganville with a beach. We like to keep it classy. I blogged about it here.


WRITE DOWN A CONSPIRACY THEORY

I do have this conspiracy theory. It's about the Dinner Fairy. I reckon she likes to hide out with the House Work Fairy in some mysterious location where they drink wine and laugh at us. Naughty bloody fairies.


WRITE A POEM OR SING A SONG

I thought these were supposed to be ideas to make people actually want to read your blog not want to run away shrieking!


SHARE A RECIPE

Here are two of my favourites:

Toast

1. Take one or two slices of bread.
2. Pop them in the toaster.
3. Take them out when they pop up.
4. Top them with butter and/or any spread of your choice.

Two-Minute Noodles

1. Open and pour in seasoning sachets.
2. Pour over the boiling water.
3. Walk away to wait the allotted two minutes and totally forget about them for a good 20 minutes until your starving and indignant child reminds you.
4. Not to worry - they will still be hot - serve.

TELL A JOKE

I can't think of any jokes except Mr 5's favourite  Knock Knock one:

Knock! Knock!
Who's there?
Ipe!
Ipe who? (say it out loud to get the 'punchline').

Yep, stand up comedy, here I come. Or not.


BUST A MYTH

I reckon it's a myth about having oodles of time when your kids are at school. It's only about 15 minutes from when they're dropped off until it's pick-up time, right? Seems like it. I'm sure there's a conspiracy theory in there somewhere too and those pesky Dinner and House Work Fairy's have something to do with it. They're probably busily manipulating time to make it race instead of doing what they're supposed to do - cooking and cleaning. Hmph. There must be some scientific evidence or study somewhere to support my conspiracy/myth thing. The truth is out there as Mouldy and Scumpy used to say.


POST A RHETORICAL QUESTION

Isn't this post, and indeed the whole blog, just utterly and completely FASCINATING? No??!! Hey - it was meant to be rhetorical!


THANK YOUR AUDIENCE FOR FOLLOWING YOU

If you have stuck with me until the end of this and many other tedious posts you definitely have my thanks. Thanks a bazillion, gazillion, dudes.

Free cakies to each and every one of you to express my gratitude. Well, they are virtual cakies so you will have to imagine them or, you know, go and buy them or bake them yourself. It's the thought that counts, right?

 Linking up with Robo Schmobo for The Lounge.

                                               What ideas can you think of for blog posts?

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The Topic Of Titles

Morning all and welcome to another marvellous Monday morning! Don't you just love them? No? Oh well, that is where I come in to provide you with this entertaining post and make it a bit less painful. Or not. At the very least it will provide you with a minute or two of procrastination from your Monday To Do List. You're welcome.

It's time for another round of confessing and today's topic is: If I started over, what else might I have called this blog? This has opened a veritable minefield of possibilities that for some inexplicable reason I had never paused to consider being utterly unoriginal and bereft of ideas when it comes to titles.

The inspiration for the title Ness Of Boganville was the classic novel Tess Of The D'urbervilles. I basically decided to go with a pun of that title because I couldn't think of anything else and naturally bogans and classic literature seem like a perfect match. Okay, maybe not. But I like the contradiction of that. I'm weird. But you already knew that.

Back to the minefield. I have now realised that had I given it more than two seconds of thought, there was literally a plethora of possible titles I could have gone with while still maintaining my classy bogan theme. Because if you're onto a good thing why mess with it?

There are so many other classic works of literature that I could have ripped off used as inspiration.

Such as:


The Taming Of The Shrew - The Taming Of The Bogans
As You Like It - As Bogans Like It
The Last Of The Mohicans - The Last Of The Bogans
A Tale Of Two Cities - A Tale Of Five Bogans
Bleak House - Bogan House
Great Expectations- Bogan Expectations
Little Women - Little Bogans
Pilgrim's Progress - Bogan's Progress
The Importance Of Being Earnest - The Importance Of Being Bogans
Sons And Lovers - Sons And Bogans
What Katy Did - What Bogans Did
Much Ado About Nothing - Much Ado About Bogans
The Wonderful Wizard Of Oz - The Wonderful Bogans Of Oz
Tales From The Arabian Nights - Tales From The Boganville Nights
The Secret Garden - The Secret Bogan
Journey To The Centre Of The Earth - Journey To The Centre of Boganville ( or the arsehole of the universe as some people think of it. Hmph. )
A Room With A View - A Room With A Bogan
The Lord Of The Rings - The Lord Of The Bogans
From Here To Eternity - From Here To Boganville
The Great Gatsby - The Great Bogan
A Town Like Alice - A Town Like Boganville
For Whom The Bell Tolls - For Whom The Bogan Tells ( I rather like that one.)
A Passage To India - A Passage To Boganville
A Good Man Is Hard To Find - A Good Bogan Is Hard To Find
Brideshead Revisited - Boganville Revisited
Women In Love - Bogans In Love

And I could go on and on. The possibilities are endless. The other alternative may have been to use other novel titles as puns. The kind of novels that they used to make into a trashy mini-series in the 1980's with big hair, shoulder pads and lots of melodramatics (don't pretend you never watched them) usually written by somebody like Barbara Taylor Bradford or Jackie Collins:

A Woman Of Substance - A Bogan Of Substance
To Be The Best - To Be The Bogan
Voice Of The Heart (also the title of a Carpenters album) - Voice Of The Bogan
Power Of A Woman - Power Of A Bogan

The World Is Full Of Married Men - The World Is Full Of Married Bogans
The Bitch - The Bogan
Poor Little Bitch Girl - Poor Little Bogan Girl
Hollywood Wives - Boganville Wife

There are also quite a few modern chick lit classics that would have offered viable puns:

The Secret Dream World Of A Shopaholic  - The Secret Dream World Of A Cakeaholic
Bridget Jones's Diary - Bogan Ness's Diary
I Don't Know How She Does It - I Don't Know How Bogans Do It?? (Not sure if you'd want to know. Okay, scratch that one.)
The Devil Wears Prada - The Bogan Wears Best & Less (my personal favourite and definitely in the running should I ever decide to start a fashion blog, being ever so stylish. Shut up.)
The Nanny Diaries - The Bogan Diaries
In Her Shoes - In Her Thongs
This Charming Man - This Charming Bogan
The Rise And Fall Of A Yummy Mummy - The Rise And Fall Of A Bogan Mummy

I also could have taken a trip back to the books of my childhood beginning with Enid Blyton. Who else?

The Famous Five - The Bogan Five (Oh I say, that title is smashing!)

And Lucy Maud Montgomery:

Anne Of Green Gables - Ness Of Bogan Tales
The Blue Castle - The Bogan Castle
The Story Girl - The Bogan Girl or The Aspie Girl


Alternatively, I could have left the World of literature for my inspiration and called on music instead. What better place to start than with my favourite Carpenters Albums:

Ticket To Ride - Ticket To Boganville
Close To You - Close To Bogans
A Song For You - A Bogan For You ( Interestingly, if I was being serious for a millisecond - perish the thought - the title A Blog For You actually kind of works)
Christmas Portrait - Bogan Portrait
Made In America - Made In Boganville

Or just for something completely different ditch the Carpenters (GASP) and use classic rock album titles:

Dark Side Of The Moon - Dark Side Of The Bogan
Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's The Sex Pistols - Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's The Bogans
Blood Sugar Sex Magick - Bogan Sugar Sex Magic? (No. Just - no. Sorry for that  mental image...)
Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy - yes, apparently The Who have an album with this title. I'm not sure I want to know where they got their inspiration from but Meaty Beaty Big And Bogan does have a ring to it.
Stop Making Sense - Stop Making Bogans 

At the very least I should stop making up silly bogan blog titles. Well, just a couple more. It's fun. Yes, I need to get out more.

A few other random possibilities:

Days Of Our Bogan Lives
Lifestyles Of The Broke And Aimless
Diary Of A Mad Boganville Housewife

What I am ultimately saying is that if I hadn't used my current title I would have just used another pun being completely unimaginative and devoid of even a shred of originality. So there you have it. My complete list of possible pun like titles. Classy.

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.

Which one do you think I should have used? Or can you think of any others to add to my lists? 

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Ten Fascinating Things About Me

 Here goes. Ten utterly fascinating things about me. Using 'fascinating' in the sense of 'mind-numbing'....

1. I've never had a sister (I have one older brother) though I do have two excellent sister-in-laws, Mick's sister Janette and my brother's wife, Nicole. Likewise, I will never have a daughter. One day I may have a daughter-in-law or three. I'm hoping they'll be excellent too. 
2. My middle name is Faye with an 'e'. Clearly, or I would have spelt it Fay. 
3. I lived with my parents until I was 23 when I moved in with Micky Blue Eyes so it's distinctly possible that I've lived a sheltered life. In Boganville. I find this ironic.
4. I went to Holland with my parents when I was 10 years old in 1981. This seems destined to be my first and last overseas trip. Sigh. 
5. I'm starting to wonder if I'm in peri-menopause as my moods are somewhat erratic: I'm joyous then weeping then feeling like I could punch the next person who glances sideways at me then having a panic attack then joyous again and around it goes..... Totally normal, right?
6. I was 26 weeks pregnant with Mr 12 in 2001 before I noticed this minor detail. Oops.
7. I lost a little man when I had a still birth 19 weeks into the pregnancy in 2007. 
8. I was diagnosed with Asperger's in 2011 at age 40. 
9. I have 150 plus Facebook 'friends' but my closest real life friend is my friend Kim, who was born five days before me and is the smartest person in the whole World - because she's my friend obviously - and because she doesn't use Facebook or any social media at all. 
10. I am shamefully hopeless when it comes to taking and organising photos. I have boxes of them stashed in cupboards instead of sorted into albums. I tried to find some photos of Kimmy and my sister-in-laws to post here and I could only find ones that are really old. So guess what? No photos. You are saved the embarrassment. You can thank me later. 

Two Ten things I love....

1. Karen Carpenter
2. Cakies
3. Karen Carpenter
4. Cakies
5. Karen Carpenter
6. Cakies
7. Karen Carpenter
8. Cakies
9. Karen Carpenter
10. Oh yeah, I have kids. They're alright, too. 

Ten things I would like to ban from the World forever...

1. Lego 
2. Lego
3. Lego
4. Lego
5. Lego
6. Lego
7. Lego
8. Lego
9. Lego - and, finally..
10. Lego

Okay, that's only one thing as such but it's one thing that means A MILLION pieces so it counts as ten! Shut up. 

Ten Reasons To End This Pointless Post...

1. I have house work to do.
2. I have nothing remotely interesting to say about myself. 
3. I have exercise to do. 
4. I've wasted the whole morning coming up with absolutely nothing of any note to say about myself.
5. There are such entertaining day time television programmes on that I'm missing. 
6. It's lunch time and I might turn into one of those strange people who forget to eat.
7. I have important places to be and important people to see. 
8. There must be a million other things I could be doing.
9. I think I may be procrastinating just a teensy, tiny bit. 
10. All of the above.

Ten Counter Points To The Above List...

1. House work sucks.
2. That's never stopped you before.
3. You can do it later - why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?
4. At least you didn't waste it doing house work.
5. Since when have infomercials about funeral insurance been entertaining? (Although, you have to admit a bit of Dr Phil is sometimes entertaining).
6. Rahahahahaha!
7. Well, I can imagine I do. Shut up.
8. Meh, it's only a million. Do them later. See counter point number 3. 
9. You think?
10. Details. Hmph! 

Okay, I think I'm done now. I'm off to find ten more ways to procrastinate. I'll spare you the list this time. You're welcome.

Linking up with Musings of The Misguided for The Lounge.

                                               What are ten ways to procrastinate?

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Sweating As A Skill

This week’s I Must Confess topic is confessing to any skills or talents I may have. I must admit that when I read this topic I was rather dismayed. I don’t have any skills or talents, I thought forlornly, as weepy violin music swelled in the background. What the hell will I write? I am a great big vacuum of mediocrity. Not exactly truly great or truly terrible at anything.  Oh wait….

I am worse than terrible at many things. In fact, I could write a comprehensive bullet point list of  The Things I’m Terrible At. Because what is a blog post without the ubiquitous bullet list?

Things I’m Terrible At

• Sport – particularly team sports or anything with balls in it *shudders*.
• Small talk – or, you know, just talking. Period.
• Maths – the thought of doing any of those Sudoku things is terrifying.
• Cooking – unless toast counts as cooking. It does right? Ahem. Truthfully, this is possibly a talent I could develop, especially cooking cakies. The problem with this is that it would lead to the eating of the cooked cakies, something I need to less of, not more of, so I figure it’s better to avoid the temptation.
• Sewing – when I did Textiles, or whatever  it’s called, in Year 7, I sewed my own finger. Enough said.
• Art – I really can’t paint or draw. Well, I can – stick figures. This is totally my brother’s fault. He stole all the artistic genes instead of leaving some for me. Hmph.
• Music – can’t play any instrument. From time to time I have had the delusion fanciful notion that I may be able to sing a little if I’d ever learnt to sing in my own comfortable range instead of attempting to channel Karen Carpenter. Impossible. Since I can never sing in front of people regardless, clearly Adele and Susan Boyle have nothing to fear from this bogan.
• Dancing – Two left feet. No co-ordination or sense of rhythm AT ALL. Awkward and self-conscious as fuck. Forget it.
• Craft – however, craft is evil so I’m terribly distressed by this one.
• Acting – I’m never destined to win an Academy Award. It may be a Asperger’s thing but my face is usually blank and expressionless no matter what emotion I may be feeling internally. Meryl Streep can rest assured – her job is safe. 

 After completing that woeful list I’m feeling a tad despondent. There must be something I’m good at. Maybe I just don’t know what it is because I rarely try doing new things. Using ‘rarely’ in the sense of ‘never’.  All the cool people seem to be into crochet these days. I’ve thought about giving it a go. This thought usually lasts about 2.3 seconds. 

In order to finish this post with at least a shred of dignity I’m going to claim one dubious thing as a ‘talent’ or ‘skill’. For the last few weeks I’ve exercised every single day. I’ve done so without any expensive gym membership or personal trainer. Take THAT Michelle Bridges. I’ve just dutifully put on a DVD (okay, at least one of them featured Michelle Bridges) or a Youtube clip and became sweaty.

That’s something, right? Shut up. I’m saying it is. So ner!

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.

                                             What are your skills or talents?

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Sefish Bogan?

.

I  was sitting here in blissful, wonderful silence this morning reading this post  by the wonderful Emily at Have A Laugh On Me and her questions got me to thinking. Yes, that’s what that  burning smell is. I do  occasionally think about  other  things beside cake or Karen Carpenter. See? I waited until the third sentence to mention them! Hmph. 

I love quiet time. I guess it goes with the territory of being quiet, shy, introverted and an Aspie.  Yep, I certainly hit the jackpot there with all those marvellous traits. Apparently, I don't know how to spell marvellous anymore as it has just appeared with one of those annoying squiggly red lines under it. Or spell, period. Isn't that just MARVELLOUS? Or however the fuck you spell it. HMPH.


I also have to confess that sometimes this fervent love of solitude makes me feel like I may be a tad selfish and self-absorbed at times. Which is just plain silly, right? This is a theory that I've actually had suggested to me: that quiet people are selfish. At the time I remember thinking that this was utter bullshit but of course I didn't say anything. After all, I'm quiet (or selfish depending on your point of view) so I kept my 'what a load of bullshit' thought to myself.



The irony was that this occurred in a group I attended to do with confidence building.  Oddly enough being told that you're considered selfish didn't do a great deal to boost my confidence. Funny about that.


Another funny thing is that I before I had children I kind of knew this about myself - that I had an extreme need for quiet time and solitude and that this would probably be my biggest challenge with having children. In spite of this, I still plunged ahead and had three of these delightful creatures, proving that in addition to being selfish I am also a masochist. On the plus side, it's nice to have yourself figured out at this advanced age. Meaning, the wrong side of forty. I’m a selfish, self-absorbed masochist. Nice.



Which brings me to Emily’s question  about volunteering for the school tuck shop, P & C or as a parent helper. As a stay at home mum who doesn’t do any of these things am I being selfish? Even though I feel  like I have  valid reasons, are those reasons selfish or wrong?




Reasons:





I don’t have good people skills:  People are scary. You have to talk to them and make eye contact, which are two things I am simply not stellar at. Should I force myself to do so in spite of this?





I have helped in the canteen at the boys soccer grounds. Once. Shut up. This involved a hatrick of skills I do not  possess. Talking to and serving people,  remembering orders and adding up the money. I was a nervous wreck at the end of an hour and have never wished to repeat the experience.





I struggle with just helping my boys with their homework. This is something I’m not proud of, but there it is. It’s quite humiliating to not understand primary school homework, so  perhaps I do need to  return to school. However, not as a parent helper, but as a student, so I can learn basic grammar (this blog could certainly benefit from it) and maths all over again and how to spell words like marvellous. Plus, I’m sure I’d still look quite cute in a uniform and pig tails. No?


Previously, I took Mr 5 to a Play Group where the interactions between parents sometimes became slightly political while I  tried to remain like Switzerland – neutral – and not get  involved. For this reason I prefer to avoid P&C committees with the same sleuth like elusiveness I employ in avoiding the I Quit Sugar craze. In fact, that is where you would find me at Play Group. In the corner where the morning tea cakies were, shoving them in my gob to avoid talking and, you know, just because I’m addicted to cake. Ahem.  If  P&C meetings involved cake of any description, I’d be a candidate for The Biggest Loser before the year is through.


I did volunteer to help in the library at the boys  previous school. I figured that I do have a Library Practice Diploma (even though it's more than twenty years old - details) and experience working in specialist libraries ( a long time ago, but again- details). I was given a stack of books to take home and cover. I didn't mind doing this. Where other people might find it tedious and prefer social contact, I'd rather work with books than people. I'm weird. So perhaps I could try that again and play to my strengths.


Now I’m back to my original point about LOVING quiet time. I as I stated, it does seem somewhat selfish but the truth is that I desperately, desperately need to have time to myself or, to be completely blunt and honest, I feel that my mental health starts to suffer.  In order to function as a mother of three boys and keep on top of everything that goes with the territory I need time to recharge. I also need to do physical exercise and break a sweat every day. I know everyone needs this, but as a person who has challenges with anxiety requiring medication I need this like I need air. It does seem selfish and a tad self-absorbed at times but it’s the truth.


 And that little myth about having more time once the kids are all at school? That’s what it is: a myth. Sorry to burst that bubble if your kidlets are not at school yet. I personally find that school brings with it much more stuff to organise and remember and also constant socialising in the form of school fetes, assemblies and the inevitable birthday party invitations that arrive. These are things I need to pace myself with. As someone on the spectrum, I have different challenges than other Mum’s who perhaps can handle the whole multi-tasking, socialising, P&C committee attending, soccer Mum thing with greater ease than me.





And ultimately, as I read in the book Power Over Panic by Bronwyn Fox, my mental health  has to be more important than what someone might think of me. This is now my mantra.





Do you need quiet time to cope with the demands of parenting?  How do you recharge? Or do you think I’m selfish?

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