Keeping up with the Blogdashians – Sloppy roundup

Holy mother of pearl it’s hard work keeping up a blog these days! How do people do it?

Other people must have magical unicorn families that don’t have children turning 5 even though they were only just ejected from their loins all of 30 seconds ago. Or bottles of wine that accidentally open themselves and thrust their contents into their mouths night after night, as mine do, preventing anything much useful from happening other than the investigation of whether that blonde guy in Downton Abbey really IS losing his jowls as the seasons go by. Or have jobs that require working, or putting on work clothes, or other inconvenient intrusions like turning up to that office place, over and over, all the stupid time. I have a blog to write, dammit!

How did this puffin turn 5? I just pushed her out yesterday!

How did this little puffin turn 5? I just pushed her out yesterday!

Two things I recently mastered. Being the BEST sloppy parent I can be, and buying CHEAP matching earrings in 3 minutes that match my outfit perfectly, and still being only marginally later than I was already. It’s a tough call, really. Already late, without earrings, or 3 minutes later, but INFINITELY more fabulous, wearing earrings that match my outfit. I’d make the same choice again.

So I may be a crap blogger but I’m almost cutting it as a person. Sloppy parenting 101 looks like this.

Filthy tantrums and a foul mood you can’t crack with cajoling, kindness, or threats? Throw a slurpee at it. They come in sugar-free now, so that almost counts as responsible parenting. Birthday party? It’s a teddy bear’s picnic. Get the kids to sit and stuff their own bears for the picnic. It will occupy them for a whole hour of the party. They all sit in the one spot. Can’t be arsed filling lolly bags? Do a bear hunt. Make them find their own. Feed them some tiny teddies (oooh look! Premade! Winning).

I don't trust you, strange lady doing things to my feet.

I don’t trust you, strange lady doing things to my feet. Pretend she’s not there. Pretend she’s not there. 

Kids behaving like small demons? Give them a fairy door. Very cute. Very sweet. The ‘fairies’ can deliver subliminal messages on improving their behaviour, (like ‘now you’re 5, we hope you’ll share your toys with your sister as nicely as you’ve shared them with us!’) all while making it seem like a good idea by sprinkling them with pixie dust (that looks very much like purple glitter. Note to self – remove all traces before catching train).


A fairy door in a fairy wall.

A fairy door in a fairy wall.

I’m almost a high achiever at sliding by.

What else has been happening? Oh yeah. I have been sleeping. Preparing for Australia Day, I am sleeping for Australia, in case it’s one day a national sport. I eat lamb, I drink beer, and I can do our country proud at the Sleep Olympics.

I slept through my alarm this morning. I slept through That Man ringing to check I hadn’t slept through the alarm. I mostly got dressed (GOD BLESS you dry shampoo gods!) but forgot my ears. I am naked without my ears. I bought some that perfectly matched my dress for $12, and was still only 10 minutes late. And then I was asked if I work out and what do I eat to be so healthy and ended up discussing my age, and NO WAY am I REALLY older than 26??? Yeah, OK, it was my barista and that’s part of his job description, but I’m sure it was the earrings taking years off my face.

That’s all. Just stuff. So much for blogging better. I’m sloppy as ever and crushed under the weight of January, that heavy mother-trucker. But AUSTRALIA DAY! YAY! Tattooed flags will be on my face because I’m immature!

Also, THE LOUNGE will be returning to the top of this Faraway Tree after an extended absence THIS THURSDAY!!! Come and link up. It’s books. Booky, booky wooks. Or Russell Brand, and his loose connection to books, if you prefer.