The A List...

Oooooh! I am so excited to be sharing this.

You need this book.

If you want a compilation of blogger stories that will make you laugh and cry, you need this book.

If you'd like to feel less alone in the world that is parenting - if you'd like to feel you are not the only one that is bamboozled by kids, this anthology will help you.

And by getting hold of a copy (it's only $4.95 by the way,) you will be directly giving to a brilliant cause - sustainably supporting orphaned and underprivileged kids in Bali.

This ebook is written by what reads like the A list of Aussie bloggers. (And me? Not sure how I snuck in, but I'll take the win!)

Seriously, this is like a collectors item - and $4.95 on Pay Pal? Too easy...

I sat up last night and read each and every story. And I cried, and laughed, and pondered, all at the same time. Eloquent writing, heartfelt words, by women and men who are happy to share their truths. Amazing.

The books forward is written by Wendy Harmer, one of Australia’s best loved comedians. Edited by my friend Al.

I am so very proud to be a part of this.

I would LOVE YOU FOREVER if you clicked over and bought a copy. Really. It's just $4.95.

Perfect scales...

It seems I have, for the moment, found the perfect balance.

I am working, and loving it.

The kids are happy and doing well, despite, or perhaps because of, my work.

I am exercising four times a week and enjoying every second - be it weights or Pilate's or walking steep steep hills in the dark.

I am cooking. Cooking for pleasure and for chores. Entertaining cooking is the best kind.

I am reading. Real books. For pleasure. For the bliss of propping myself up in soft pillows and falling asleep at night with my book on my chest...

I am revelling in the involvement in the kids sport - the thrill of the win, even if it is just eight year old netball...

I am taking each day as it comes with my Mum. She is over four months sober. She is not well, but she is so much better. Her voluntary sobriety makes me so very hopeful and tenuously happy. I shall take each day at a time.

And I am writing.

Not blogging. But writing.

So I guess whilst the scales are balanced to perfection for now, the way that I have inadvertently achieved this balance is by letting go... of my blog. Not forever. Just for now.

About wobbly bums...

Today I am over at Bianca's

I have written an open letter to her three girls.

About bodies. About Mothers. About love. About confidence and wobbly bums.

Go have a read and leave us some comment love?

Moving house...

Illustration from here

I have spent all weekend moving house.

Not from my own home.

No, we have not been packing up the '70's monstrosity. That all stays gloriously unchanged and stable, thank goodness.

No, I have been moving my Mum.

She has lived in her old house for a number of years - over a decade.

When she moved in she was of sound body and mind.

But this move - this move from "independence" to something else, is anticipated be the the last one she makes. From house to "retirement village". A care environment with an intercom on the wall and nurses and all her meals cooked for her.

She moves from space she never used, to a compact unit designed for aging. Every surface is level - no falls here. There are grab rails everywhere. No falls here. Her zimmer frame glides slowly. No falls here. There is no drinking here - no wine in the pantry. No falls here.

For the past few weekends I have gone through every inch of her old home. Unveiling, sorting, discarding, remembering. Filtering. Wrapping and stashing. Only boxing up the clean and the useful.

And this weekend, we are done*. She is in her new home.

I am envious. Such a little neat clean space. All shiny and new. No worries over maintenance or cleaning or cooking.

I have unpacked, at the other end, for her.

And as always, the same tips remain true -

1. Always carry a box with you in your car, not with the removalists, that contains kettle and coffee provisions, a cloth, loo paper, a Stanley knife and bin bags. (And to be honest, some unbreakable wine and beer glasses too!)
2. Clearly mark each and every single box.
3. Have the box with the bed linen in it one of the first to be unpacked - get the bed(s) made up as soon as you can - that way, if all else turns to shit, you can always just go to bed. The unpacking will always wait till tomorrow.
4. Check services are on and working - hot water particularly, and 'phone. If not, have a fight with Telstra.
5. Use the spare room for the majority of boxes - leave plenty of room everywhere else to start getting an idea of where stuff can eventually go.
6. Don't rush to hang pictures up on random existing hooks - else they will stay for the next however many years until you next decorate. Do it properly the first time.
7. Have notebook and pen handy to write the ongoing shopping list of all the new bits and bobs you find yourself realising that you need.
8. Go out for a curry or other favoured takeaway that night - your new kitchen will wait.

* We are about a quarter of a way through the process. Now I have to go back to the old house and get that sorted and ready for sale...in a dead market. :-(

I have moved 27 times in my life. And this one was the hardest yet.

Wife swap...

I woke up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

I enjoyed sipping it, in peace, whilst I checked the news and my email.

Heading for the shower, I stretched and kissed my gorgeous, newly woken, children as they greeted me.

With the bathroom door firmly closed, I relished a long hot shower in peace.

As I dressed, selecting crisply ironed work clothes, I realised my lovely husband had already made the bed.

As I put my make up on, without children bothering me, without attempting to apply it in traffic, my only disturbance is my husband asking me if I'd like him to make me a salad to take to work for lunch.

Grabbing a matching bag and shoes, and my car keys, I kiss my children and husband goodbye for the day. They are still in their jammies, hair not yet brushed. I have no idea if the kids have clean school uniform for the day or not. I presume they do?

Similarly, I have no idea is the dishwasher was set to run, or if the kids beds are made, or if a load of laundry has been hung out to dry. None of those domestic chores are my issue.

I am busy at work, all day. But I am not distracted by phone calls from school requesting me to pick up sick children.

I come home from the office when, and only when, my key tasks for day are done. I am not tethered by my watch.

It's late. The kids are already bathed and in their jammies. They have eaten dinner. The youngest is waiting for me to read her a story, whilst the elder two are with Daddy, finishing their homework.

They fall upon me and shower me with kisses and news of their day. Happy, clean children. Untainted by my nagging.

After getting changed into clean trackies, I tuck them into bed and catch up on their goings on.

Eventually I curl up on the couch with a glass of wine, poured by my husband. He cooks me dinner as I blog a little and catch up on emails. I think he may do some other chores too. Another load of laundry? Take some meat out for tomorrows dinner? Some ironing? Dealing with the dishwasher again perhaps? I am not sure.

We watch some TV together and then to bed. I sleep like a log. No worries. Tomorrow is another day. Another convenient day whilst I work and do my thing,  and the rest of my life just gets organised and taken care of around me.

Truth, fiction or fantasy?