Mummyfried

For those who do not know me, I am not particularly comfortable around animals. I selectively pet dogs and avoid cats like the plague. I think household pets are seriously smarter than what we give them credit for. Find a good docile attentive owner - and the ideal lifestyle is created. This gives any human like me, watching from afar hope to be reincarnated into a household pet. Birds are as close to my heart as my love of hard labor on a summer’s day. Fish are to be eaten, or left to navigate the planet's plastic polluted waters. They definitely should not crammed into a small round fishbowl or not flushed down the toilet when they die. We live in a dog-friendly and dog-loving leafy area, decorated with an enormous sprinkle of dogshit. This means I walk around the area with a not-so-happy or light spring in my step.  My discomfort goes further. I simply can’t deal with houses that smell like animal. Despite the above, I often find myself in the distasteful position of having cats

The unwelcome invasion of hormonal, attitudal  (is that a word?), smelly teenagerhood has rudely planted itself in my once, almost peaceful home. One day, I woke up and it was firmly implanted like a concrete blob. Ugly, tough, impenetrable and difficult to remove. No warning, no instruction manual, no return policy. And - it is as brutal, hurtful, scary and about as confusing as a head on collision.  I get that teenagers are stressed, angry, hurting lonely -  I once was that hormonal mess - and this is what worries me.  Under the steel strict ever watchful eye of my mother - I had no wiggle room to be a smart ass (at home) but I have an inkling on how the 'A Clockwork Orange'  type of teenage rage campaign is, and for how long it lasts for. Frankly, I want none of it. I want to pull the plug and now. I am ill equipped, ill prepared to handle this. Modern day teens introduce a whole new complexity to the concept of parenting. I not ready to parent this gracefully. I am selfishl

The participation trophy for playing the game of corporate life without a rulebook, a map, or a decent budget is packaged up into a signed documented and a meager financial thanks called Redundancy. The lone ranger is out of commission. After seven years of undying dedication to a company that seemed to thrive on the philosophy of 'No Direction, No Budget, confused with micromanagement and thousands of ridiculous rewrites came - the role, and the person suddenly to a screaming halt. The late nights that had become friends were now waving goodbye, the fun weekends that had become myths were going to come back, the 14-hour day - over, done, no more. The sweetest cherry on top of this professional sundae was the reminder from higher-ups and the incompetent replacement higher than you, that you were in their eyes, after all the years of delivering, aiding mergers, profits, and recognition, about as competent as a fish riding a bicycle. So what that your role was carved up like

Just when you thought I would post once today, no - I had a last-minute whim to post again.  Today is an essential day for visualising your dreams.  I document these publicly not to share with my average of 8 readers (I am 7 of those) but for me - as I need to start doing things for me. So, I write as though I have acquired these - believing (and I will) achieve these. 1. I am thankful for my beautiful, wholly owned, debt-free home in the area of my choice. It is filled with love, hope, peace and bountiful positive and cheeky energy. 2. I love driving my reliable, safe, sporty, sun-roofed 4wd - that is new, never breaks down and, if / when required, will be upgraded to a new one - without debt or dents. 3. I am thrilled to provide my daughters with the academic, vocational, emotional, psychological and developmental support they need - without stressing or straining any budget or time. 4. I am excited to give back to the community through my successful business ventures that focus not

  It's the third year I sent the lovely little ankle biters to two week camp. The third time is the charm, they say. This year I am absolutely rocking it. I have cleaned the house, done some self-care, exercised, gone out - not once, not twice, but countless times - and slept an unbelievable amount of hours. I have reacquainted myself with Netflix - not when the critters are asleep - but on an ordinary evening. I have cracked open bottles of wine, drank beer and NOT COOKED once. I am in heaven. I do miss them - but oh have I enjoyed the silence. Have I reveled in the freedom to listen to my favourite songs, dance like a mad woman in the loungeroom without judgement. Have I seriously lavished in stretching out in my bed - without fear of getting little foot-in-face surprises! Absolutely! Too busy relaxing to write more. 

Not so long ago we had a houseguest. It was the first time we had an older adult stay with us in a long time. It felt like a combination of being gently assaulted, insulted and loved.  This concoction of confusion left us feeling ... weird. When the home invasion ended – we were thankful to have someone who cared, gave and spent time with us and also grateful.   Our Guest was to arrive at 14.00. The doorbell rang at 9.30 am.    Cleaning, meal plans and prep on a budget departed as quickly as the taxi that did the Guest drop off - as did my will and work schedule. The never-ending monologues to the TV – were an absolute treat of an experience. The lover's abandoned daughter, who was in a relationship with her half-brother, would not listen to our Guest; oh no…     The holding on to pee throughout the three back to back episodes caused a urinary tract infection – which as the only other adult in the household, meant that I had to hear about the pain of pissing blades for two hours du