She has been with Paul for 4ish years so she has a head start on me. I only knew my said boyfriend for months not years before we moved into together into a small terrace dump in Glebe. Close to uni and the happening lifestyle I wanted. Claire has finished university, finally, has a job and they have been consciously saving for the rent deposit.

I guess I didn’t realise how good I had it at home with the parents. But they were out of Sydney at the time and I wanted to be closer to uni, life and my new universe. I did spend the first few weeks cafeing it in Glebe with said new boyfriend and we were happy.

A few of my friends at the time mentioned how surprised they were we were together. So poles apart. Said boyfriend was known for his love of beer not cafes and tea like me. I thought I must be a good influence and he’s changed. WRONG!

Whilst I felt comfortable with life and it all, rent, food and all that did put a dent on the finances. Out of home allowance and a part-time job didn’t stretch too far. Said boyfriend started doing less around the place. He wouldn’t help clean up. Instead expecting me to clean up his discarded clothes.

He then started doing more of the beer and pub life in Glebe then cafe with me. We had a pub at the end of the road, which didn’t help. That should have been a neon sign to me. I was cafe and he was pub. I was doing well and enjoying university. He wasn’t enjoying university anymore and started to skip classes. My said boyfriend became white noise. Here I was talking about art with the cafe crowd and he would be bringing the guys home for more beers or whatever alcoholic we had in the terrace. The cooking Sherry went one night. They’d be up to all hours. I struggled to get a good sleep. Ear plugs didn’t work on the rowdy weekends so I moved out for the weekends and stayed with friends.

With the year lease almost up the owners decided to renovate and we were asked to leave. They did me a favour. I moved out with my good friend Joanne and not much long after that I met, well I married him.

So now as I wave off Claire and reflect she has gone through a lot with her high school life, her fall from family grace but now she has finished university and is with a great guy. I know she will be fine. Even better, she doesn’t live near a pub, the unit is clean and her boyfriend likes Tea.

Now to plan what to do with her empty room, any ideas? So what is your story about moving out of home?

The kids are coming because we told them they had to. I might have told them if they don’t make a fuss and come, they can get a day off school for the Easter Show next week. As an aside, I really wish the Easter Show in Sydney was during the school holidays. I know it’s supposed to be around Easter but can’t someone fix the calendar, moon, dates or whatever?

I realise a bribe isn’t a good thing to do but I think we all need a holiday. Sure we have our Bali holiday in May but we need a break now. School has been busy for the kids, in particular for Makeyla starting high school. Both bathrooms being renovated. Work for Jason and I has been hectic of late and we were snubbed by friends recently. We loosely spoke about camping with one of Jamie’s rugby friend’s family who we have holidayed with before but they decided to go camping with another couple. Jason feels we were dropped for another family who is more, well, popular. I say their loss.

I can understand and share the kids’ concern about camping in tents. I have the battle camping scars from previous camping holidays as a kid or when we were newlyweds. One particular holiday stands out in my memory.

Jason and I had gone through a rough patch financially and friends suggested we should go on a holiday camping with them. Our Claire was aged around 5 at the time and our other ones were not born yet. It was up on the North Coast. We battled exiting Sydney traffic on the way up the coast and expected a warm week. I was suffering a bad case of sunburn on my face and then the weather turned one afternoon.

Claire was asleep and being a little more relaxed by this time in our holiday I decided I wanted a few extra wines one afternoon. It was raining and we had our tent and our friend’s set up with a huge tarp in between. Lots of wine, talk, laughter with everyone teasing me about my pash rash. My sunburnt face by this time had started to peel on my chin. It was red and sore. I have no idea what time it was when I staggered to bed. It kept raining.

It felt like I was only asleep for a short time when I felt my arm being tugged. It was Claire, saying we were floating. I told her to go back to sleep. My head ached by that stage from too much wine, my face hurt and skin was flaking off. Jason was dead to the world. Claire kept getting louder and louder saying we were floating. I put my arm out and it fell into wetness. I fumbled around for the torch and flicked it around our tent. We had about two inches of water in our tent. And all sorts of things were floating around the tent. By this stage I could hear other people waking in their tents. Lots of noise, tents unzipping and people swishing around in the water surrounding them. It was still raining.

Jason finally woke and in his daze stomped on my foot. In one swoop I picked up Claire swore about my foot and stumbled outside. The water level looked to be rising. My head throbbed, my foot throbbed and I felt sick. I was yelling orders to Jason who was still stumbling around in the tent trying to get clothes on. It must have been about 3am.

I must have looked a stunner. My hair long at the time was a mess, I noticed it in a reflection later after I staggered up the camp site hill to higher ground. I must have looked just stunning. My hair, hopping around with a child in my arms, my peeling and red chin with my head hung so low with a painful headache. An older lady who we befriended earlier in the week with her little dog came to our rescue was in a caravan up on the campsite hill. Here she said, let me look after your daughter in our caravan and out of the rain. Did I say it was still raining?  The older lady’s husband came back down the hill to help us quickly pack up our belongings that had started to float away.

When we had put all of our stuff in piles under one of the campsite colas, we both fell back onto our soggy camp beds and slept for a few hours, leaving Claire with the older couple. Can’t remember their names but they were just lovely. We decided later the next day when the weather was not improving to go home early.

So let’s hope with our little holiday this Easter we don’t have massive flooding, the kids have a good time and I don’t get sunburnt.

What are you doing for your Easter? Do you have a camping horror story?

Luke, also in year 9, has scraggly hair, is thin and tall, which goes along with the large feet. He reminds me of Shaggy from the cartoon Scooby Doo. Jamie first met Luke when they were both in infants at primary school. Luke was a really cute, bright and bubbly kid. All the other kids liked him and gravitated to him. He had this uncanny cheeky smile, a cute giggle that teachers and parents alike were in awe of. He got away with everything.

I wasn’t all that impressed with him. I thought he would be able get his own way just because he was Luke the cute and popular kid. Not that he was mischievous, he just was a kid. Jamie was in awe and would invite Luke to each of his infants birthday parties. Luke or his parents would never accept the invite. Jamie was always devastated. He wanted  the popular kid to like him.

Luke was a star football and rugby player in primary school. Jamie was still in awe as Luke had all the friends. He would also have all the latest gadgets from his dad and the latest soccer/rugby boots from his mum. This kid Luke had everything.

It was only sometime in later primary school that I heard from another parent that Luke’s parents had divorced. It was a pretty nasty divorce too. Poor Luke and his younger sister were in the middle of it all. I think there were custody issues. I had heard the kids pushed and pulled all over the place. His dad wanted to move interstate and there was a whole range of gossip as to why. Luke pulled out of rugby, he stopped being the beautiful popular kid. Perhaps his confidence was waning as his school work suffered.

When the kids started high school, home life didn’t improve too much. His mum had a boyfriend who was living with them. For Luke life at home got worse. To get away, Luke got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Luke would miss school and rumour has it he was threatened with being expelled.

But late last year when Jamie was in year 8 in Visual Arts Jamie tells us Luke started to get into the work in class more. Jamie, being a little wary of the gang Luke was with, stayed away. But they appeared to have a similar quirky style in their paintings, or so Jamie thinks.

It wasn’t till a chance encounter during the Christmas break that we bumped into Luke and his mum that we mentioned we were going into see the Anish Kapoor exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary art. Luke looked keen so Jamie asked him to come along with us. The kids and I made a day of it in the city and had a great day walking around the gallery, the exhibition and the Rocks. Luke was a little nervous at first but I recognised that smile he used to give as a young child. He looked like he was in his element with the art.

As things have panned out, Luke and Jamie have become friends. The old Luke gang are no more, as far as I am aware. So now our Jamie is leaving art books across the house. He wants want to visit obscure exhibitions about Sydney. He’s visiting amazing websites with amazing art. Jamie keeps talking about art and I do wonder if the artist in me is actually doing a better job coming out in him. So my son has become a hermit. He seems to be spending a lot of time online in his room looking online at all sorts of art; digital, contemporary, graffiti art and the like. He has redecorated his bedroom, gone are the Tiger football player posters and in it’s place his own art. I think art is the reason my son has become a hermit in his room. A hermit to the world of art.

Well I think it’s art….hopefully art and not porn. Has one of your children discovered something that engrosses them so much they become a hermit to it?

If we had any consideration for our children we WOULD have started and completed it during the school holidays. That’s what our daughter Makeyla yelled at us the other day. The attitude comes and goes now that she has started at high school. It is accompanied with eating heaps of food one day and then eating like a sparrow the next. I guess the attitude needs fuel.

Why would we ever consider renovating BOTH bathrooms at the same time too. Doesn’t matter it would save us money having the trades tag teaming between the main bathroom and our ensuite. Teenagers just don’t get it.

Jason my husband couldn’t see what the fuss was all about. It’s summer and as far as he is concerned, we can use the neighbours shower (bless them) and we have a toilet in the laundry that is not being renovated. At worse the kids can use the sprinkler just as they did when they were toddlers. I thought it was a funny suggestion but Makeyla stormed off in disgust. Our other daughter Claire is spending a few weeks at her boyfriends, to get away from it all. Smart girl.

To keep costs down Jason took a day off work last week and with a friend pulled out the old bathrooms. The bathroom company assured us they would start work late last week. But due to a hint of rain they have delayed it to next week. I don’t understand why the delay, the bathroom is inside and it doesn’t rain inside. Sure it might have flooded up in Northern NSW (again) but that’s hundreds of kilometres away.

Colleagues at work tell me of horror stories about their bathroom renovations. Such as wrong tiles delivered and tiler started work before it was picked up by the project manager. Light fittings back to front, wrong taps, splash backs splintering when delivered, water leaks, delays, delays and delays. One poor lady was so disheartened with it all she just accepted the faults to get her bathroom back.

It’s a new year for the kids at high school . Jamie had his birthday recently is in year 9 and Makeyla is like a peacock with all her new friends in year 7. With so many primary schools filtering their kids into the same high school there are so many friends to choose from. Plus she met up with a lot of girls she used to dance with at ballet some years ago. So there has been a bit of juggling friends and forming new bonds.

It surprises me that my daughter who has been talking to her girlfriends all day at school will spend most of the evening on the phone or Facebook’ing with them again at night. I’ve allowed her to create a Facebook account like Jamie as long as I am her friend and can monitor. I’ve written about Facebook in a previous post.

So Makeyla has also discovered the mirror. She has to check herself out in every mirror around the house. She was quite adamant to having a large mirror in the new bathroom. Almost vanity unit to ceiling. The tradie from the bathroom company mustn’t have a daughter or wife. He scoffed at the size of our bathroom mirror. I don’t know what he’s talking about. I think a mirror can really make a room look lighter and airier.

Problem with a large mirror Jason now thinks is, we may never get her out of the bathroom. I guess I can see where he is coming from. Recently, she started to spend an hour or so in the bathroom with the hair straightener. Agh teenagers. Agh female teenagers. I also think Jason has forgotten this is our second daughter. He has forgotten all these issues we had with Claire at this age. The best is yet to come, not.

So here I was sitting outside for my own time out this afternoon. Enjoying the outside quietness. But inside our teenage kids were arguing again about whose stuff will be put where in the new bathroom. My son teasing Makeyla about setting up a bathroom roster system. She would get the bathroom from 6-7am, so that he and Claire had enough time for them prior to school and job hunting. I thought it was quite a good idea of Jamie not so Makeyla. Teenagers! Teenagers today and young adults the next. Some days are good and some are horrid. In the meantime, I hope our bathrooms is renovated quickly. I would like a shower in my own bathroom.

Do you have teenagers? If so, do you have a bathroom roster that works? I’d love to know.

Now don’t get me wrong. I did not read the book to spice my own bedroom antics with my husband Jason. I just thought I should read it to see what all the fuss was about. I was in for an exciting literary ride. Plus it couldn’t hurt, could it.

It all started after the third chapter, I think. The first chapter or so just to establish the characters and that interview with Grey. Nothing special. In fact who would believe Anastasia was real. Come one a virgin all the way through university, not likely. Oh bingo meets a rich man Christian Grey and his play room of leather, whips, chains and pain. No way. I was not a believer after the third chapter.

Seriously this was a popular novel with popular acclaim by about everyone.  But I found the story sensational for book sales. I didn’t believe it and it took ages to get into. I was happy to put the book down and struggled to keep reading it.

I remembered thinking where are all the romance novels about women who are in their 40s with sagging bits, tired eyes and worries. How come this fantasy university graduate virgin has such a power over Mr Grey and his shades of leather and spank? To answer my own question, 50 shades of 50 wouldn’t sell as a book title I guess.

I’d read a few passages to Jason and we’d laugh together. I do most of my reading  in bed so I started to read a few juicy bits out loud to Jason who would give me a cuddle and then, well, fade to black. The book would end up discarded on the floor. Giggle.

This became a habit over a number of weeks. To the point I’d get rather excited about what might happen that night in bed. It became my own 50 shades of MAYBE. We started having more time together without the kids. Rather than doing the mundane normal house chores when the kids were not around, we took time out for ourselves. So it is true it did spur our bedroom, but I realised it was me. I was spurred.

I finished the book and hated the ending. Will I go read 50 Shades Darker and 50 Shades Freed? Perhaps

Did you read 50 Shades of Grey and the other two books in the series? What did you think? Did it spur anything in your bedroom?

It does seem a strange thing to do given my desire not to hear more about the mass murder. I am writing because I am horrified of what happened to those innocent children and teachers. Never their fault but the fault of a system and society.

Does American live in a society at war that needs guns to defend themselves? Hello, isn’t that why there is a police force? Some might say in the US that they have arms because their police force isn’t what it should be. Is Australia so different? Australia and the UK can cope without the need to bare arms. So why America are you so different?

The US system allows, from what I hear, anyone to keep guns. It’s their constitutional right. Honestly America you need to be tougher on the rules and laws with who can have guns. You have driving laws and on the most people abide by them. Why not do the same with guns?

I can understand some people keep guns for target shooting. The trill and adrenalin rush of the sport. Isn’t there laser shooting with a gun at gun ranges that can simulate the recoil of a gun shooting enough? Do you really need to shoot a living creature or person?

Why not arm the teachers in the schools I hear the NRA suggest. Yeah that’s right. Instead of controlling the problem you let more people have guns. Sorry society but NOT everyone of you should have guns. Life isn’t a video game. You shoot people they die.

Anyway, guned with amminution to grumble here I have said my piece. What are your thoughts on guns?

What made me think to write this blog piece is this single mum, who I’ll call Elizabeth to protect her identity was listening to Julia Gillard’s speech in question time back in October. Some people refer to it as the smackdown of Tony Abbott and to sexism. A transcript can be found on the SMH website. I wrote this blog piece a while back but forgot to post it.

…”Leader of the Opposition catcalling across this table at me as I sit here as Prime Minister, “If the Prime Minister wants to, politically speaking, make an honest woman of herself…”, something that would never have been said to any man sitting in this chair. I was offended when the Leader of the Opposition went outside in the front of Parliament and stood next to a sign that said “Ditch the witch.”

Good on Julia. Good on you Elizabeth. So here is Elizabeth with two boys between 10 and 14 both who are loving of their mother and very supportive. The boys could have turned out terrors as they have experienced things rough and tough. Plus they have moved around quite a bit to get away from people bad in their lives. The boys dad I think is in prison somewhere for drug possession. Elizabeth I suspect might have used a bit in her pre-family days but for what ever reason decided that wasn’t the life for her and the kids. She moved out from her husband and in with a rather manipulative bloke. She stayed with this other bloke when the boys were young. But turned around one day, packed her with the kids and left him too.

But this story starts earlier. Elizabeth as a child would stay with her Grandmother to get away from her own verbal abusive parents. She said at the time her Grandmother was a wonderful role model baking cakes, biscuits and flans. Talking about all sorts of things in life. Such as her husband, Elizabeth’s grandfather who had died years earlier and how disappointed she was with some members of the family. Namely Elizabeth’s mum. Elizabeth thinks her Grandma felt guilty for Elizabeth’s childhood. That she failed her own daughter and thus Elizabeth in the snow ball effect. So when Elizabeth left her manipulative boyfriend with the two young children she chose to stay with her Grandmother rather than with her parents. Her Grandmother was happy for the company and loved the two small boys. So the kids whilst small also got into the helping with the baking too.

They lived with Grandma for a number of years but long story short, Grandma passed away and there were issues with the inheritance. Elizabeth and the kids took off for a new start in a new state. She got a few odd jobs to pay the bills but really wanted to cook cakes like her Grandma. She saved up money to buy the essential ingredients, the pans and eventually an commercial oven. The boys help out around the baking and I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them doesn’t take it up as a career too.

Elizabeth is a strong woman and I wish her all the best in her new small business. She is making an honest woman of herself as she told me. But rejects hearing the leader of the opposition to haphazardly banter about like to a woman and to our Prime Minister. I agree, no way Liberal Party will you get my vote. Not when Tony Abbott is its leader.

What would you say women out there if someone said that to you?

I’ve also had another birthday. It wasn’t a major number but I felt special. We’re going on holiday to Bali May next year. It was a surprise gift from my husband and I had no hint about it either. Very excited.

Since I have hit and passed 40 I continue to reflect on my life. Where I am at. What is happing to me and the family. I think often about how live is really so short. I written previously about death and relatives passing. But what has really hit me for six recently has been the passing of my cousin’s husband. He died of a heart attack at 40 and leaves my cousin and their two young children. He’s younger than me and I am gutted for my cousin.

We had caught up recently and spoke excitedly how we are all going to Melbourne for our ‘Come when you can leave if you must’ extended family Christmas. By all counts Christmas is happening for her in Melbourne too and now she needs all the support to get through this Christmas and the many more without her loved husband.

So if you haven’t done it lately, call your mum & dad to tell them you love them. Hug the children and tell your husband you love him. We don’t know when we will die but let’s make the most of our young or old lives.

The man is a shock jock. Do a search on Google and Alan Jones comes up second in the list after the Wikipedia definition.

“A shock jock is a type of radio broadcaster or disc jockey who entertains listeners or attracts attention using humor and/or melodramatic exaggeration that a notable portion of the listening audience may find offensive. The term is usually used pejoratively to describe provocative or irreverent broadcasters whose mannerisms, statements and actions are typically offensive to many members of the community. It is a popular term, generally not used within the radio industry. A shock jock is considered to be the radio equivalent of the tabloid newspaper, for which entertaining readers is as important as, or more important than, providing factual information.” Source Wikipedia.

Alan Jones is even listed as a shock jocks on that  same Wikipedia definition page. Is his opinion so important to you, me and everybody? His listeners are the type of people who are simply like him and will not be changing. Is he getting any new listeners because of what he says? If we keep give him this media attention, possibly yes.

Lets think about what he does in his 2GB job. His purpose is to be the entertainment around the news bursts and commercials on a commercial radio station. The commercials bringing in the revenue to pay for the station to keep going. So if you think of him as entertainment does he need to be factual?

So is there any point to force Alan Jones to do the ‘factual accuracy’ training? I understand Alan will be doing it because he made the comment that humans only make ”1 per cent of .001 per cent of carbon dioxide in the air”. Is that the main issue Alan Jones has?

I don’t care about him being factual. All journalists and politicians get it wrong sometimes. I think what is more wrong is what he said about our Prime Minister Jullia Gillard’s father. It does not show any respect. Whilst I did not vote for Jullia Gillard I wish the media would give her the respect a Prime Minister should receive. It is comments like this and Alan’s classic one about putting her into a chaff bag and throwing her into the sea was inappropriate. Perhaps rather than forcing Alan to do the factual accuracy training, he should be doing ‘respect training’.  As he is an influencer to his listeners maybe if he showed respect to humankind, the listeners could one day follow.

I don’t care if you have different politics to me, I don’t care if you don’t like me but just show respect to each other.

What training do you think Alan Jones should be doing?

My eldest daughter Claire now in her early 20s wasn’t allowed to get certain fashion items, wear make up, wear mini skirts, have boyfriends over or go out with her friends until certain age milestones. Or when she could prove to us she was mature enough.

So that meant she didn’t get small shoe heels until she was in year 6 at school. She didn’t get boob tubes until she had something to keep the rotten things up. Had to wait until she was 11 before getting her ears pierced etc. She didn’t get a mobile phone until she was in year 10 at high school. For the mobile phone that was mainly because phones and plans were expensive then.

Makeyla who is in year 6 at high school wants a mobile phone, like now. It is all because her friends have mobile phones. Her friends are allowed out to 10pm, her friends are allowed to wear make up, allowed to do this and that. They all seem to be doing things earlier than my age-based allowance rules. So I feel like I’m an old fart parent who won’t allow my daughter to do ANYTHING.

Makeyla has for many years been my little princess. I always thought she was a little immature. That could be in part because she is our youngest child and I have well, kind of clung on her being the baby in the family. She loved her ballet but gave up last year because the girls at school teased her. She wants to spend more time with friends and less with us. I am sad and have to accept she is growing up.

Watching the Puberty Blues mini series on TV recently made me realise that the story of girls growing up with angst has always been there. I always thought the protagonists were 16-17years old until someone told me recently the girls are supposed to be 13.  My daughter is 13. Eeek!

Then a few months back Makeyla was caught shop lifting with her friends. Luckily the police weren’t called. That experience awakened me to the fact my little daughter was no longer a child.  Weeks later when we discussed why she did it, given that she had the money to buy the clothes. Was she wanting to be accepted by her peers. Doing something risky, something that would challenge her and give her cred.

We have had lots of discussions since then. I have suggested to her to come to me if she wants to talk about thing. Or to talk to her older sister. She has asked me about sex in round about ways. I have to refrain from telling her what she should do but offering her options. Claire said she has been answering questions too. I hope our recent open and candid conversations continue and I hope she will become a balanced young woman. So it was heartening when Claire told me that she only wishes she was as balanced as her little sister when she was that young. So I have hope.

If you were 13 again what tips would you give yourself? Would you give those same tips to your 13 year old daughter too?