Thursday, February 25, 2010

what they dont tell you about motherhood

Breastfeeding ruins your clothes, pulling a boob out and letting your little monster suck on it whenever its peckish will inevitably stretch all your lovely clothes out of shape.

Babies backs are like peaches filled with heroin- sweet, addictive and slightly furry.

No matter what they say, your vagina will never look the same. If your not blessed with a reason the doctors see fit for a Cesarean (I know I was researching all sorts but my doc never fell for any of them, I was even prepared to go out and try and catch herpes as I read that its a sure fire way to get one however finding a wart infested man prepared to share the love with a woman that resembles a whale wasn't as easy as you might think) Yes if you have an episiotomy your Vag will have a nice thick scar going all the way down to near your bum if your as lucky as me. I for one don't care- I was never much of a minge model to begin with but its a personal thing that might really upset some fanny owners.

Babies get thrush in their mouths and transfer it to your nipples. Yep nice isn't it.

Single friends don't babysit. In fact, hardly any friends babysit- everyone coos over the belly begging for first sitting rights and never follow through. While your single friends love you dearly theyr not prepared to spend a Saturday night chained to your couch while you go out and probably don't even notice the 14 potential lovers you come across.

Dad = hilarious and Mum = food

You will never sleep again, Once your baby starts to sleep through the night you will still be up 8-12 times a night just making sure that their still breathing.

God designed babies extra flexible so that while your breast feeding them they can get there foot up to your mouth for a kiss.

Mashed banana stains your clothes.

There is more guilt in motherhood then you'll find in Casurina prison. Whether it be the things you cant help like saying goodbye at daycare and brushing out a deadlock or the more selfish things like hearing your baby cry and finishing your make up before you check or whispering that "its all daddies fault cos he's a selfish bastard" you never feel like you done enough for your little ones.

Through the narrow eyes of your in-laws enjoying yourself or having a rest = bad mum. And sleep deprivation, and getting fat = good mum.

When my little monster was born she came 5 weeks early. When I was waiting in hospital for her to ripen up all ready to be taken home she was lying in her little bed rapt up in vulnerability. I said to the nurse, "I cant hold her yet because of all the cords but Im scared that when I do she wont know who I am" the nurse laughed and replied "But your her mum… Mums are babies secret favourites"

And that's the best secret of all, your not supposed to know this and kids are so diplomatic these days that when there old enough to talk they'll only deny it but the truth is, Your mum.. Your the secret favourite..

Thursday, February 18, 2010

I once watched a documentary (ok, it was oprah) on the laws of attraction. They claimed that our siblings let off a certain odour or pheromone to us that was designed to repel us and thus turn us away from breeding with them. This is responsible for the reason that something as simple as reading the previous sentence is enough to make us all cringe and possibly vomit. I found this entire episode interesting and started to think… I wonder if this same odour is let off between women and there boyfriends friends? Why is it that when a single girl asks her taken friends if there boyfriend knows anyone to set them up with we all laugh with discust? Is it pheromones, designed to stop us being lead astray? Or are they really as repulsive as they come across? One theory is that men travel in packs and every pack only has enough room for one prize and the rest have sacrificed all good looks, charisma and self respect for the greater good of the prize.

This doco went on to explain that everything we once thought was our own personal taste in regards to what we are attracted too was not our choice at all and simply our hormones guiding us to the most appropriate breeding tool. Men preferred the scent of an ovulating woman and women preferred the strong virile man to the red head with glasses. This also supports my theory as is it just me or does everyones boyfriends friends smoke so many bongs that theres probably only three mutated sperm in there sack, sitting on there own little sperm couch trying to order a little sperm pizza.

On the other hand I have always felt a similar repell to friends boyfriends. The difference being that rather then being unattracted to them because there unattractive, I can appreciate the appeal however an automatic barrier goes up. As if its natures way of conserving the friendship and you find yourself thinking of your handsome, successful and funny friends boyfriend as A-sexual. Like a cousin or dog.

However while your cooing over the man your friends now see as a non-sexual drinking buddy, he no doubt has friends of his own and while you might view them as mortien for woman your friends might not be so repelled..

Ahh yes the laws of attraction wont fail to mystify, what is it about Sean Penn that makes me weak at the knees And Peter Andre that gets him egged overtime he leaves the house? What is it about your boyfriends sweat that makes you want to ride his disco stick and the cab drivers that makes you puke?

We may never uncover all the secrets the laws of attraction have to offer but we can stick to some of the guidelines… Never shag the untouchables (or unwantables), your friends boyfriends or your boyfriends friends. However if you were stranded on an island with one of both and the future of mankind depended on you shagging one of them, take a deep breath and go with the mortien. As the mere act of doing so will be punishment enough for the bad deed. Now lets just hope that his little sperm gets out of its sperm coma and swims for mankind.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Conversations with God (mum)

When your little your always mad at your mum. I considered my mum to be a 'no' mum. "No you cant go to the Big Day Out with your uncle, No you cant get another dog to keep Mortisha company, (I don't actually believe any child on earth thinks there mums have bought them enough pets) She made me take my guini pig back to the pet shop because there was maggots in the hutch that I never cleaned out. And even after all this betrayal she was still the one I cried to when a budgie died or a dog ran away. She wouldn't let me stay up as late as she let my sister, she made me have a bath even when I was hardly dirty. But that was just my mum, if you were one of hers you were bathed, fed and ready for bed by 5. She insisted on pulling my hair back in a a plat so tight that even head lice would have jump ship. However no matter how many times she stabbed my head with bobby pins Id still always rest it on her lap while we watched neighbours.
Mums can act like complete bitch's, they lie, fight and back stab but always for the same reason... There defending one of there own.
One thing that most mums around the world have in common even if there complete enemies is fact that theyd do anything for there ungrateful children. I was totally pissed off at mine because she wouldn't buy me a new Sega Master System game, never mind the that she had spent half her weeks wage on it in the first place.
And we were broke.
Not starving broke, just broke enough to wear a Mambo jumper in a men's size XXXL because it was on sale for 15 bucks when I was 8. Broke enough to catch busses, even when it was raining, late, or I was faking an asthma attack. And of course it was all mums fault. It never occurs to kids that this is not the way there mum imagined there Saturday night either.
When your a teenager your mum tends to remind you of Benjamin Button, while the rest of the worlds growing up and maturing your mum seems to be doing the opposite by gradually immaturing every year and embarrassing you at every opportunity. While my mums at home shes allergic to bras and pants which makes for interesting chats when being picked up for a date. And yet when countless boys dumped me after that first date, mum was always the one Id run too.
When you have a baby its time for your mum to step back in. When I was in labor no one else would help me, only my mum. Doctors told me to try harder because they've obviously had lots of babies and know how if feels, nurses tried to rob me of my rights to drugs, but mum was there in my corner fighting for my drugs and convincing me that Id done a good job. When the baby finally came I knew Id had just given birth to someone mum considered one of hers. She didn't say "Congratulations, good job" or "Well done" She looked at her little blue squished up grand daughter and blurted "my god your so lucky"
And thus begins a new relationship. While I'm busy being a "no" mum, making my daughter mad by not buying her enough or not letting her stay up late enough, shes completely mesmerised by her granny, who's embarrassing quirks don't embarrass her at all.

When I was a teenager I new a beautiful boy with the longest eye lashes from high school who unfortunately died, leaving behind devastated parents and a pregnant sister. He was the first person Id known that died and I'll never forget the funeral. His mum couldn't stand up, she was carried by her husband to the coffin to say goodbye and was obviously so heavily sedated that while her blank eyes looked through the coffin there was confusion as to how many people were last that day. 10 Years past and people moved on, only two weeks ago I was at local restaurant when I heard a giggling, screaming, naughty little munchkin running a muck. I turned to see a familiar looking beautiful little girl with the longest lashes playing with her grandma. My old high school friend had a niece that looked just like him. He may have never had the chance to meet her but I was sure that his mum had given life to her daughter and her gran daughter had brought her back to life.

I still get mad at my mum, she cant keeps her opinions on my mothering skills to herself nor can she stop herself from fighting with pretty much everyone we meet. My boyfriend told me that he thinks my mum would pick an argument with her own shadow.
But I replied to him.. "I'm sure she would, if her shadow was hurting one of hers"

Monday, February 1, 2010

The circle of love

Once I had a boyfriend with dreadlocks that I was neither hear nor there about not because he was short, but because his height had effected his personality to the extent that the term "short mans syndrome" was nothing short of an understatement when describing him. Anyway, for come reason, even more unusual then his singing voice I decided to go to England with him. What I had neglected to tell him is that I had an old passionate Italian lover that lived in London. Now like any Italian stallion this one had a way of lingering in my mind. Who could resist a long haired travelling Italian photographer? I didn't stand a chance and nor did my Jockey like companion. It didn't take much for my current boyfriend to annoy me to the point that I was packing my bags, thanking him for an amazing!, life changing!, earth shattering! three months and jumping on the nearest train to London. He was devastated, he cried and chased me to the train station. I looked at him sympathetically, trying to disguise my pity and told him "I'm sorry baby, the heart wants what the heart wants".
Like always I was broke, I'm talking no ticket back to Australia, no money for accommodation etc. All I had was a memory of a crazy fling, a fling that hadn't even lasted that long and a desperation for a life with slightly more risks and slightly less dreadlocks. With nothing but a map and a keen sense of desperation, I of course found my man. He was cutting hair in a little barber shop in Soho(did I mention he was a barber? probably not as its no where near as romantic as his photography yet much more imperative to his survival), it paid terribly but the tips were good and we all know Stallions don't need much to get by. He was thrilled to see me. Picking me up in the middle of the street and showing me off to all his friends. He told me in his deep Stallion voice that he'd look after me, we'd live together in the little hostel he lived in and I had nothing to worry about. We had a ball together, road trips in the snow, photography expeditions. He took me to all the Museums and gallery's desperately hoping I'd turn out to be the girl he'd always desperately hoped for. Meanwhile I too was desperate, desperate to be held in this corner of the world forever, desperate to appear believable in my interest for History and desperate not to be exposed for the wine guzzling uncultured fraud that I so wished I wasn't.
Needless to say I was eventually exposed (and when I say eventually I mean after 7 weeks. Long however by my standards), I cant remember the details (OK I can but don't want to get into them) they involved about 3 bottles of red and a restaurant full of people I didn't know. My stallion left me and no amount of begging or ignoring was going to get him back. I did my standard creepy thing, I went to his work, called from a private number and all that jaz. All he could say to me was "Hey, you broke the short guys heart and now I'm braking yours. Its the circle of love"
So that was my long winded way of explaining The circle of love. Not unlike Love karma only Love Karma's more like when you don't bother to even courtesy call a fella after a shag chances are its going to happen to you. Love Karma's also responsible for those people that seem to be at the top of the Love chain and dodge the circle of Love by always being the dumper and never the dumpee- Love Karma steps in by making sure that there never happy. Never for long anyway, always picking at small things that annoy them.
Anyway so that very next week when I had decided to pull myself out of my miserable state I was sitting on the bar at the restaurant I was tortured in daily (cant call that work) when in walked the florist. Now the florist came to the restaurant every week to change the flowers and he was beautiful. He was skinny with tatts all over his hands, always wore an old man hat and had side burns half way down his sensitive looking face. His flowers were amazing (or maybe they weren't but I'm a romanticist.) Anyway on a mission to recover my self esteem I walked up to him knelt down beside the vase he was arranging and handed him my number. I told him he was beautiful and he should go for a walk with me (god knows that's all I could afford). He smiled beautifully yet sympathetically and tucked my number into his pocket. I knew he would never call me. But, later that very same day in comes the wine delivery boy. He bounced in like he did everyday, smiled at me and told me "Its a good day if I see you Constance" as I was wiping down a painfully dull bench he walked up to me and asked, "if I give ask you out, you wont say yes will you?" I replied sympathetically "Sorry baby, the heart wants what the heart wants"
Dam that Circle of Love.