Life's myths

I'm planning to expose some of life's myths - things we are meant to believe but are simply not as they appear.

I'm starting off with: ``Lift here to open''.

Now, how often do you see that printed on a cardboard box of some sort, be it with biscuits inside or plastic wrap or whatever. And guess what: it never works! You lift the tab ``here'' where it says and you still have to tear the box to get the damn thing open!

It's just not right.
 

New home, sweet, home

Apart from a half a dozen or so boxes we are settled in our new place.


It's all good. More room for everyone (so XY5 and XY8 no longer have to share a room) and a big -although hilly - backyard.


Moving house is definitely one of those things that gets worse as you - and your children - get older. I think that's not just because you've had more time to accumulate stuff but that you know fully well what you are in for.


So with that major event mostly behind us and XY45 seemingly successful in getting rid of a bug from my PC, I'm hoping to get back into the blogosphere.

The things you do

My younger son - formerly known as XY4 - turned 5 on Monday.

He had his first ``real'' birthday party with friends he knows from pre-school at the local indoor play centre.

I don't know who was more hyped up for the big event, him or his dad (XY45) who was insistent on going to the effort of decorating the homemade allergy safe cake himself.

For those of you not in the know, it is an omnitrix. If you don't know what that is, Ben 10 wears it. If you still have no idea what I'm talking about, don't worry.

Breaking news rush

Once a journo, always a journo I've been told.

Tonight after dinner I retreated to my bedroom to read - despite the 3XYs asking several times: ``Are you sure you don't want to watch Red Faces with us?''

But then XY9 came in to tell me there was ``breaking news'' about to come on. I'm pretty sure I rolled my eyes but then I heard Laurie Oakes's voice and you know what that means - real news.

I scurried into the lounge room. And what a story - a challenge for the Labor leadership and Prime Ministership. I couldn't help myself. How exciting. What a buzz. History in the making . . . how could anyone not be interested! Can you imagine the atmosphere in Parliament House? Oh, to be a fly on the wall in the thick of it.

Of course, I stayed tuned in for further developments. I channel surfed between the free-to-air and SkyNews. I held out on the chance that the PM would hold a press conference. And he did.

At 9am tomorrow is the political equivalent of the gunfight at the OK Corral. Rudd facing off with Gillard. Great stuff!!! It looks like KRudd won't be able to hang on. We'll know soon enough.

Pundits would say the likelihood of a challenge has been building for weeks, even months. The stalling of the ETS, an about-face on asylum seekers, backflip over provision of childcare places and other broken promises resulted in a huge drop in the electorate's approval rating of our once-most-popular PM ever. I was more certain than ever that there was something afoot when neither Gillard nor her family would agree to be interviewed for an updated profile piece on the Deputy PM which aired on this week's Australian Story on ABC TV.

Now, convinced there will be no further news reports until early tomorrow morning. I can head off to bed and contemplate the possible dawning of a new era in Australian politics.

Yes, I know. All this confirms that I am a news junkie. I simply can't help it.

Random act of kindness

I was the grateful recipient of a random act of kindness this week.

I was caught short at the chemist and had only $6.55 all up in my purse and the item I needed was $7.95.

I told the shop assistant I would come back later once I got the extra money, but a man next to me said: ``Don't worry, I'll give it to you - I've got a heap of coins in my pocket.'' He reached into his pocket and then put a collection of gold and silver coins on the counter.

``No, no - I'll come back later. I can't let you do that,'' I protested.

``Not a worry at all - I know what it's like when you're a bit short. I'm happy to do it.''

I smiled and thanked him for his $1.40 and his kindness.

I've never had that happen to me before - although I have done the same for others on a few occasions.

What goes around, comes around.

Countdown to Christmas!

I know, I know. It's too early to even think about the 2009 festive season. And, normally I wouldn't except in the past week two unsolicited reminders have hit me.

Firstly, a friend (?) of mine send me a text telling me it was 150 days until Christmas. It seemed like only yesterday she send me a text to say is was 200 days to Christmas!

Then a newsletter I subscribe to from a lovely shop in Brisbane - Paper Boat Press - hit my inbox. It had news of a great winter online sale and its owner, the wonderfully creative Kylie, advising that orders for her very popular personalised Christmas star ornaments (pictured right) are available from mid next month and orders close in October.

They are definitely something not to miss out on, but another reminder about Christmas getting close was something I didn't want. I'm one of those people who cringe when Easter eggs start appearing in stores once the Back to School sales are over each year or who refuses to look when department stores who open their Yuletide decoration department before summer even arrives!

Anyway, beware . . . it's coming. It may as well be me who breaks it to you.

Just perfect right now

There's been quite a few media reports this week on how Generation Y should not be too fussy about their first job.

Today we learned that Prime Minister Kevin Rudd once cleaned loos at a sawmill on his way to Australia's top job. He also flipped hamburgers and worked on hospital wards as well as in a supermarket and pulled beers in a pub.

The PM was right to say that different job experiences are a part of growing up. It certainly does broaden your outlook in life - and what can be the harm in that when you're in your late teens or early 20s starting your working life?

My first job was working part-time in a mixed business when I was in Year 10 at high school. I helped prep and cook hamburgers, fish and chips, served customers with fruit and veg, milk, bread and other essentials. I enjoyed it but I knew it wasn't something I wanted to do the rest of my life...and a learnt a lot including the difference between jap, butternut and Queensland blue pumpkins!

I don't think you can underrate any work experience.

However, I don't think it's just Generation Y that's afflicted with so-called job snobbery. People of many different ages simply don't seem prepared to take on a job that is anything less than their idea of what's perfect for them.

Sometimes in life you just have make the best of what's on offer right now. Do the best you can for yourself today in getting a job and see whether tomorrow may offer something better when tomorrow comes.

I think this all ties in with the general unwillingness society today seems to have with waiting for what they want. No one seems to buy a two-bedroom renovator's delight as their first home - they go into huge debt for a four bedroom plus study brick veneer McMansion. No one saves up for major household purchases - you just get them on no deposit, no interest, no payments for 48 months offers from major retailers or put them on your credit card so you can have them now.

Didn't someone wise once say: ``Good things come to those who wait''?

Distance is a divide

Growing up, my mum's parents lived diagonally opposite the end of our street.

Pop died when I was about eight but I was in my late 20s when nana died. Apart from a couple of years she lived in that house built by pop.

I can't remember a day going by they we didn't stop off to share a cup of tea, a chat or just say hello and give her a kiss and a hug. It was part of our routine.

My mum and my family live a four-hour drive apart. I would just love to be able to drop in for a cuppa some time during the day - after walking XY7 to school, in between errands, whenever.

I just had a dose of mum. She stayed with us for six days but went home of the train this morning.

I have to readjust to not having her company and sufficing with talking down the phone to her instead. I never realised how far away a four-hour drive could be . . .

Child's play for grown ups

It was clear that most of the people who turned up were well prepared.
They were armed with notebooks containing their research. They wore comfortable shoes and clothes. Some even brought a support person with them rather than going it alone.
It was the opening day of one of the major events of the year - the Toy Spectacular - the pre-Christmas mega sale of a national store chain.
I can hear you sniggering, but it's serious stuff . . . just ask any parent. After all where else can you find the things that Christmas dreams are made of at great price reductions under one roof with no deposit layby and until Christmas Eve to pay it off?
I am a relative newcomer to this ritual. I had always been a fulltime working mum until last year's sale time when I fronted up but quickly realised I had not done the necessary preparation. But not this year. Last year was my reconnaissance for this year. There would be no slip-ups in 2009 for me.
After studying the 132-page brochure and writing a list of the desired items in a notebook, I formed my on-the-shop floors strategy: get in early, get the specified items ASAP and get on the layby line pronto.
For the unitiated this may sound like overkill - but anyone who has seen a queue for the layby counter so long that it requires specially-appointed staff to act like traffic cops knows it's simply pure survival technique.
I took comfort when I saw other parents armed with shopping lists in notebooks and the catalogue for reference. It reassured me I was up for the challenge.
It seemed as though everyone there in the crowded toy department was party to some form of insanity - a fear that if they did not get to the sale that they were somehow remiss as a parent. When I looked at other parents their faces had a look which said: ``Yes, it's crazy but I'm here anyhow.''
Sadly, some parents cruelled their chances of success before they started because they had not taken the essential step off-loading their children. How could they expect to concentrate on the task at hand when their trolley was already half-full with a toddler or two. What were they thinking??
I had already taken my XY7 to school and XY3 to pre-school and was on schedule when I drove in the carpark at 8.45am.
I got in the store at 8.50am, took 30 mins to fill my trolley (it would have been 10 minutes sooner but I could not find the Ben 10 Alien Force Creation Chamber and I had to consult the toy sale help desk for the location). Progress on the layby queue was slow but steady. The usual lone lay-by staff member had three helpers as well as extra staff to pack the items for lay-by storage.
My mission was completed without a hitch or any hassles - I was relaxed and smiling the whole time. I headed off home, content in the knowledge I had broken the back of the Christmas shopping tasks earlier than ever. I was pleased to know I wouldn't be doing a last minute rush and not being able to find the toys my boys truly wanted to see on Christmas morning.
My planning kept me calm and focussed throughout my toy sale shopping mission.
So much so that I even chatted to other shoppers while standing in the queue for lay-by. I said to a woman with a trolley so packed full it was a wonder it did not crumple under the strain: ``Well the good thing is we can all relax about Christmas after this effort.'' The reply:``Oh no, this is just the start for me.''
Another mum in the line told me that after she got her trolley full safely put away on lay-byshe was off to the other major national chain store which also started its toy sale today . ``You're brave,'' I mumbled, totally shellshocked by the idea.
She's probably going to the opening day of the toy sale of another national chain store which starts closer to the end of July.
I won't - one mega toy sale a year is enough for me.

Blue haze clouds life

Like many Australians, I have been fond of watching actor Rebecca Gibney throughout her career.

From The Flying Doctors, Come In Spinner, Halifax f.p. and more to the current hit series Packed to the Rafters, I've spent countless hours watching her on TV and admiring her work. So it was good to see her win Australia's biggest industry accolade - the Gold Logie - on Sunday night.

It's because of that I discovered I have some life experiences in common with her - depression and having a loved one suffering alcoholism.

To read what she said, see http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,21985,25425164-661,00.html

Among other things she said it was important to talk about mental health. So I will, briefly.

I first realised I was battling depression after a forced transfer at work in 2006. I was not happy about it at all and had trouble adjusting but it wasn't until a couple of months later I realised what I was experiencing was more than just the usual ups and downs of life. I did two counselling session organised through my employer's Employee Assistance Program and felt a little better, but after failing to make continued progress I sought out a psychologist with my GP's help.

My GP took time to assess my mental health and put together a mental health plan which qualified me for Medicare subsidy for a series of visits to a psychologist. I also started taking some medication.

I'm not feeling as low now as I was then, but have changed my career pathway and live in a different town to gain some work/life balance. I'm still taking medication but I got into a bit of a hole in the lead up to Christmas last year and I've started seeing a psychologist for another series of sessions and my mental wellbeing has improved.

Rebecca Gibney's experiences with her alcoholic father were also something I related to. In my case it was a former partner who I was with for some years.

We shared many wonderful times but there were also bad ones. It took me a while to really understand the grip that alcohol had on my partner - I never before experienced how alcohol can be such a devastating force in some people's lives. I had grown up with parents who enjoyed a social drink and as an adult I enjoyed it too but never to the point of dependence and where it impacted on my life in a negative way.

It was a hard life lesson for me to learn that you cannot help someone with an addiction unless they want to help themselves. In my case the alcohol won and I had to move on.

Like many of today's social ills, alcoholism is not talked about openly and its impact on the lives of the addict and the people in their lives are not widely understood.

Hopefully people in the public spotlight like Rebecca Gibney, in relating her experiences with depression and an alcoholic can help raise awareness in the community in some small way. It is important to talk to someone and get the help you need. A good place to start could be Beyond Blue: The National Depression Initiative on 1300 224636 or http://www.beyondblue.org.au/ or The Black Dog Institute at http://www.blackdoginstitute.org.au/

Hop to it

These days Easter presents me with a special challenge - finding an Easter treat without dairy, nuts, or egg so my XY3 with food intolerances can eat it.

Hot cross buns are mostly fine but when everyone around you is tucking in to yummy chocolate don't you want to enjoy some sort of lolly treat too?

He doesn't like the dairy-free, nut-free chocolate (who can blame him - have you tasted it? Not a patch on the real thing) so I tend to go on my very own Easter hunt searching for non-chocolate easter egg options. They are few and far between. Not even all carob from health food stores are dairy and nut free.

I did spot some marshmallow bunnies in a brochure ages ago and now I can't find them in the shops - kicking myself over that one. I've seen some lollies in big bags (Natural Confectionary Company, I think) but although they are bunny shapes half the mix are the type which have milk power in them to make the white fluffy lolly stuff (think the base of strawberries and cream lollies or milk bottles). I have seen candy eggs in the past but not this year. Cadbury has some marshmallow eggs and bunnies but, as you would expect of a chocolate making company - they are covered in chocolate.

This little bunny has opted for marshmallows presented in a hard clear plastic box formerly occupied by Lindt's Lindor balls (yum yum) and specially decorated with easter theme pictures and tied with a big red bow. There are also two coloured plastic hollow eggs which I have filled with lolly snakes and put back together.

I'm sure that will ensure my little bunny has a spring in his hop on Easter Sunday. Happy Easter to you and yours.

Clues to a sad story?

There's something I saw the other day that I can't get out of my mind.

The family pulled up outside the local butcher store. I opened my door to get out and there in the gutter was a black pair of men's shoes.

They were not expensive looking shoes but they were in good condition. Now and then you see an odd worn shoe left here or there but not a pair virtually unmarked. As my children asked: ``Why are they there, mummy?'' I noticed the empty bottle of methylated spirits beside them. I shuddered as my mind put together what seemed to be clues to a sad story.

A troubling image . . . but not easily forgotten.

Chilled at last

Today it happened - autumn arrived where I live.

I went out the front door of the house to walk my XY7 to school and there it was. A chill in the air. It was like a splash of cold water on my skin. Wonderful.

There's no better feeling. It makes the day seem more alive. The air seems fresher and cleaner to breathe.

The first autumn hues are even starting to appear on the leaves of some trees.

I know that the new season really began days ago at the start of the month but now I feel it is here.

Inhale deeply and chill out!

That age old question

It seems to me that my parents have suddenly gone from youthful to old. Obviously that's far from the reality of the situation but for so many years they both were quite well preserved but now the years are starting to show.

Dad's a 1944 model Aquarian and mum's a 1945 model Libran. I'm a 1966 Sagitarrian and my brother is a 1970 Virgo. The photograph is at their wedding in 1965. I think they look cute.

Without meaning to sound morbid, it has hit me in the past 12 months how the number of years ahead with them around is much less than what I've already had.

Dad is currently in hospital recovering from a moderate stroke and expected home as early as later this week but in the past two years he has had a triple heart bypass, back operation, knee replacement, been fitted for hearing aids as well as the usual colds and flu.

Mum has had a range of heart tests after an irregularity came to light - she eventually got a clean bill of health. A hormone deficiency triggered a severe case of alopecia and she lost virtually all her body hair - her head hair is fairly full now although not as thick as it used to be and her body hair has been more reticent to return.

They divorced about 20 years ago and both eventually entered new marriages. They are both retired but still keep busy with their interests and travel.

I suppose that while they have always been in my life I did know but also somehow failed to realise there would come a time when they won't be around. A reality I don't like to think about - I blame that on the Sagitarrian trait of being prone to fantasising.

And of course, all that is also connected to me getting older too.

Weekend with Allen

Allen loomed large in my weekend. And Allen has a lot to answer for - where would the RTA be without Allen.

I'm not talking about the Roads and Traffic Authority, but Ready To Assemble furniture. The Allen in question is, of course, the Allen Key. Little tool - a lot of time, angst, sweat and tears.

XY7 and XY3 now have each have a loft bed in their shared room thanks to the humble allen key and my not-so-humble partner who was a whiz at deciphering the RTA instructions and putting the beds together. It was a big challenge - especially in the heat we've all been sweltering in - so only one bed could be assembled on any one day! Getting in and knocking it over in one hit was just a little too logical for my adult (?) XY. You can't rush these things.

I was the trade assistant and he was the foreman you could say. Mmmm, not a dynamic designed to generate domestic calm...but all tempers were kept in check. I got to do the fetching of the various components and deal with the clean up of umpteen plastic bags, four large boxes, styrofoam, cardboard and packing strips the RTA beds were delivered in. I also made the cups of tea, did the usual household chores and ensured we still had three meals a day while also keeping an eye on the young XYs.

I must say that if it was solely left to me the boys would not now be happily asleep in their new beds. I'd still be working on them. I made a mental note never buy more than one piece of RTA furniture at any given time if I can help it!

Fashion faux pas

What is it about summer weather that brings out fashion faux pas? I lost count of the clothing no-nos spotted during my recent coastal escape . . . white clothing with black underwear, muffin tops - and that's without relaying what I saw on the beach.

I am a plus size woman so I know how difficult it can be to find clothes that fit comfortably, look good and are age appropriate.

But you'll never see me with a muffin top even though I am amply endowed with the necessary body bits to achieve it. For me the worst thing is someone who is probably a size 10 or 12 wearing jeans and other clothes that are so tight it creates bulges. This problem is especially prevalent among wearers of hipsters - a fashion fad which many people don't seem to realise are NOT a style which flatters all.

And can anyone tell me what's going on with showing bra straps? Bras come in so many variations - please just wear the one that's right for what you're wearing. Don't wear a bra with straps straight up over the shoulders if you're wearing a tank with a sports-style back or (worse) a strapless top. Why don't wearers of bras with ``invisible'' straps realise that they are in reality NOT invisible (see the pic). Maybe they have a vision impairment? Or suffer from some strain of Emperor's New Clothes-itis?

Don't those guilty of fashion faux pas have anyone in their lives who love them enough to tell them the error of their ways (in the nicest possible way, of course)?

Making tracks

I travelled quite a few kilometres on the road and by rail during the Christmas New Year break.

First the family drove five hours to the in-laws' home in Sydney for Christmas. Then the boys and I travelled from Sydney on the XPT to the NSW mid-north coast for a beachside holiday with my mum and her husband. My partner had to return home to work.

The train trip was good fun. The boys enjoyed it and for me it was much more relaxing than driving. On the way back we even got our our own three-seat cabin which became a twin sleeper.

I was a little daunted at usuing public transport with XY3 and XY7 to manage by myself. XY3 can be quite loud and challenging at times. He was really good on the trip out of Sydney but was more of a problem when we had the cabin - perhaps he realised he needed to be well behaved when we in amongst other passengers but could be his feral self when contained in a cabin!

It certainly added and extra element of interest to the holiday. I'd certainly hop aboard the XPT again some time. The only drawback was the coffee - it was certainly something you'd only try once.

Beach holiday revisited

History never repeats, it has been said (and sung). It certainly rang true for me during my recent 10-day break.

It was my first beachside holiday for some years and was in the same area where my mum, dad, brother and I spent Christmas holidays for about three years running in the 1980s. I anticipated a relaxing, carefree time enjoying the sun and sand and family cameraderie - an experience reminiscent of those holidays during my mid-teens.

But I didn't realise how those fond memories are simply that . . . and cannot be either recreated or relived.

I was so swept away by a self-contrived idyll that I did not stop to think how many things had changed in the years which had since passed.

I was different. I had come to be about the same age my parents were when we made those pilgrimages to the NSW mid-north coast each December. The optimistic, secure teen with no responsibilities had two boys and a partner to look out for, adult concerns to ruminate over and little time to spend on herself.

The holidaymakers were different. My parents divorced and married other people, so it was my mother, her husband, their dog, me and the boys (XY3 and XY7) sharing a two-bedroom villa owned by my great aunt. My brother was there for Christmas Day and Boxing Day but had returned home to Sydney when I arrived after spending Christmas at the in-laws in Sydney. My partner had some work to do and had to return home, so the boys and I travelled from Sydney on the XPT.

The small villa at times was like a pressure cooker. The needs of two young boys did not always gel with the wants of a man aged in his 60s. He had always been quite understanding with the boys on previous occasions and keen to help keep them entertained but not this time. The boys were quite confused by the apparent about face (and so was I). He was worried by some difficult personal experiences one of his sons in another state was going through. However that does not excuse his anti-social and angry behaviour.

Then, of course, because her husband was unsettled and emotional so was my mum. I was on edge because my mum was stressed. Aaarrgghhh!

On the positive side the boys and I swam every day either in the ocean or ocean baths, sometimes twice. We loved it. It was the first time they both had proper swims in the surf and they just thought jumping over waves was the best thing out! We also spotted half a dozen or so dolphins on various days and enjoyed spectacular New Year's Eve fireworks.

One day mum even made a comment about how the holiday wasn't quite like the ones we had in the area in the past. I knew exactly what she was saying. It saddened us both a little.

I now fully realise that revisiting a location does not allow you to relive a certain wonderful experience. It's true, history never repeats. I also learnt not to expect to have a warm and fuzzy family time when you holiday in close quarters with your mother's husband!

I do plan to return to my great aunt's villa for a stay but it will just be me, my partner and our boys - we'll create our own beach holiday memories.

Anyone else had a similar life lesson?

Back on deck

I feel like a schoolgirl who has not handed in her assignments on time after not having posted for so long.

It's not as if I have nothing to write about. To the contrary . . . Christmas with the in-laws in Sydney, two weeks at the beach on the NSW mid-north coast (sans partner) with mum, her husband and my two XYs aged 3 and 7, travels on a train on the northern line aboard the XPT, securing a place to undertake university studies by distance education and an emotion-filled dash to Newcastle after my dad had a moderate stroke (thankfully he is expected to make a full recovery) has given me plenty of food for thought.

In order not to bite off more than I can chew - or regurgitate - at any given time, I have decided to deliver posts in bite-sized chunks for easy digestion.

Just in case anyone is wondering . . . It has been decreed that Christmas 2009 will be a home-based affair for my partner, boys and I!