This is the life.

My mother's day.
The husband got up to look after the little kid and and I slept until 9:30am - bliss! Breakfast was smoked salmon, poached eggs and hollandaise sauce on toast. Gorgeous. I was presented with 4 DVDs (Repo the genetic opera, Elvis 1968 comeback special, Elvis best of and Blacula) a CD (PJ Harvey's new one) and a card the girl had made. Around midday the girl and I went to a "Mother's Day Picnic" that the Blandberra council puts on. It was advertised as a "free event".

We queued for 30 min so the girl could ride a pony, they required a $3 donation.

She was on the pony for all of 30 seconds - a very quick walk around in a circle - I calculated that to be an earner of about $360 per hour per pony. When she was getting off I said to the girl leading the ponies "the girth strap is dragging on the ground, the pony almost stepped on it", she ignored me. I said "EXCUSE ME! the girth strap is dragging on the ground, the pony almost stepped on it". She looked at me as if I was speaking swahili. I said "LOOK!" I pointed at the strap and said "IT'S DRAGGING ON THE GROUND. PONY WILL STEP ON IT. CHILD WILL FALL OFF. LAWSUIT!" The girl made a vauge grunting noise and went about fixing the strap. Honestly, I don't know why I bother.
We then queued for another 30 minutes so I could spend $4 on a bag of fairy floss for the girl. While she shovelled the spun sugar into her gob and smeared it in her hair I wandered about the market stalls that were selling kids clothing and toys. As we passed the information stand I stopped to fill out their feedback survey - when asked "what would you like to see at the Mother's Day Picnic next year?" I wrote "something for mothers". I also wrote that events advertised as "free" should actually be free. There was not a single ride that didn't ask (demand) for a donation. We boogied to a cover band playing Kylie Minogue songs for a bit then headed for the car.

At home that evening I sat and watched Blacula and drank wine while the husband did the dinner/bath/bed routine with the child then cooked my dinner.
Over a gorgeous marinara pescatore I thought to myself - best mother's day EVER!!! Life is good.. Read more!

When Mum is a Goth...

Our letterbox is overflowing with catalogues advertising pink fluffy dressing gowns, lilac bra and undies, floral teapots and perfumes with names like “Pretty”. But what is a child to do when her Mum is a Goth?

Here’s my list of Mother’s Day presents I would love:

1. Sleep. This is the universal requirement of all mothers. There can never be too much.
2. Black fabric dye. Keep those blacks blacker.
3. Bvlgari Black perfume. Smokey and sexy. Not a hint of floral or musk.
4. Rimmel 60 second black nail polish – I go through a lot of it.
5. Goat’s milk soap – it’s smooth and silky and doesn’t dry your skin.
6. Baby shampoo – the world’s best eye make-up remover (heavily diluted).
7. Lindt dark chilli chocolate.
8. Black ugg boots – for indoor use ONLY! My purple ones are wearing out.
9. Domain Chandon Cuvee Riche – gorgeous and much better than Moet.
10. Belgian waffles with rich vanilla ice cream and strawberries.

11. And some of these...spider web cup cake covers....very, very cool.

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Where are youuuu?

The girl loves Scooby doo. I don't, never did. I do find it slightly amusing that the girl enjoys a cartoon older than me more than she enjoys the modern stuff - but did she have to pick such a lame one as her favourite? Anyway, today we had the honour of seeing this drivel performed live on stage.
The whole day and events leading up to it have been an ordeal, to say the least. When the ads for this garbage first appeared on telly the girl put considerable effort into making sure I saw one of the ads so I knew how to buy tickets. You were supposed to register so you could be sent notice when tickets went on sale. We registered, and then waited. She harangued me about it daily for months. Eventually, at a kitchen ware sales party one of the Mums mentioned that tickets were on sale. So much for this preregistering rubbish! I rushed home, fired up the computer and the credit card, and bought two tickets. Sorted. We had good seats and the girl was ecstatic. There were two shows in Blandberra, both on a Tuesday. Oh well, lucky my boss is very forgiving with this sort of child related stuff. Anyway, it was a couple of months away so I had plenty of time to work it out.
A few weeks ago I was sitting at work and got a text from one of the Mums asking "how was the show?" I thought, "what is she on about, she must have texted the wrong person", replied to her as much then forgot about it. Later, driving home from work, I realised the Scooby Doo show had been that morning. I freaked. I had fucked up big time. I was so upset I felt nauseous. I rushed home without collecting the girl from child care and went to the computer. No additional shows had been scheduled; it wasn't playing in Blandberra again. There was no redemption. I imagined her little face crumpling and the tears and the shattering disappointment I would have to deal with when I told her about my memory lapse. The husband stopped me and said "don't tell her yet, work something out". I was stumped as to how to redeem myself from this. The next show was in Wollongong, a three hour drive from here. I was reminded of my friend’s email that I posted a few weeks ago and her lament "Do I drive to Wollongong in my pyjamas?" At least I would be dressed.
So I hired a car, a sat nav thingy and at 8:40am this morning we set off for Wollongong - I had followed the husband’s advice and told the girl there had been "a change of plans". No fault admitted.
We stopped at Goulburn for a Mc Wee, much to Ms Satnav's dismay please return to the highlighted route, and a coffee and I was relieved to read "All McCafe coffee beans are sourced from Rainforest Alliance Certified TM farms". Oh, I feel so much better now about buying from a multinational, resource decimating, landfill generating, purveyor of coronary-artery-disease-in-a-bag conglomerate instead of supporting local business. Sad reality: it's on the highway and their coffee isn't that bad. The child had a small hissy fit because she couldn't get a happy meal at 9:30am, and I had the frothiest flat white ever. I once worked for McChuck’s rival and was reprimanded for not putting enough ice in the drinks - I was "giving away" beverage - and I figured the coffee was subject to the same padding.

Anyway, thanks to Ms Satnav's clear instructions we pulled up at the WIN Entertainment Centre with half an hour to spare. Once inside we headed to the merchandising stand and I baulked at the outrageous prices (e.g. $20 for a screen print calico bag) then queued up with all the other chumps to spend $50 on a crappy soft toy.

The play (as I may have mentioned) was horrid. A shortage of actors had them playing multiple characters and characters disappeared for no apparent reason and their absence was never explained. I had to constantly remind myself the target audience was average age 5 and I should stop expecting Shakespear. I did smile at one point when Shaggy and Velma and Daphne did a dance to the music of "Two ladies” from Cabaret (Fred was missing). But my mirth was dampened at half time when I paid $4.50 for a drumstick.

The play was scheduled to end at 1:45pm and I pre-warned the girl that we needed to run as soon as it was over so we could get back to Blandberra before the hire car place closed at 5. She was a good girl and we were on the road by 2:10.

The drive through the mountains and the combination of popcorn and icecream had her looking quite green and we stopped briefly for her to get some fresh air.

At 4:45pm at a petrol station around the corner from the hire car place, I sent the girl across the road to the public toilets. I usually would never consider such a thing, road crossing and public toilets unaccompanied, but we had such little time to spare I made an exception. She was ultra careful crossing the road, but couldn't get into the toilet. A kind woman tried to help the poor abandoned child until I eventually paid for the petrol and sprinted (wobbled) across to rescue the girl. One of the toilets was "out of order" and the other was occupied. I did the math and got the girl to wee on the grass. We raced back to the car and arrived at the hire place at 4:56pm. The girl packed up the stuff from the car (she even remembered to get the CD out of the stereo) while I went in and did the paperwork. Then we went to the bar across the road and waited for the husband to collect us.

Over a glass of red wine my stress levels started to dissipate. I reflected on how good the girl had been, how helpful and compliant (except at Maccas) she was and that I was glad I had put in the effort to right my wrong.

Was it worth it?


I think so.

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