Joy Joy of Christmas and all the ballou

The one thing about Christmas I raised my older children with, was putting the kibosh on the whole Santa thing. Santa is not real, but the original story is. The original Santa lived in Europe hundreds of years ago, a baron or a lord who loved to tinker with toy making. I loved the story, I love the fact that his legacy has lived on, albeit changed just like Chinese whispers and urban legends.
Though my older children understood the concept of gift giving, accepting the Santa myth, Little Miss Mischief's attitude is a whole different story. She utterly refuses to believe the truth behind Santa, angry that I have placed presents under the our Christmas Tree.
Scoffing to her older sister the other day "Mum, has put some presents under the tree, well that's just not right!".
My heart sank in the last week of school when the students were asked to write a letter to Santa. Her letter as she read out to me was

Dear Santa,
I would very much like a Horse please.
Could you please leave him in the backyard instead of under the tree, as I wouldn't want him to pee and poop in the house, it would make too much mess.
I have tried to be a very good girl this year I hope you think so too.

Thank you and Merry Christmas.

She wrote it so neatly and adorned it with beautiful drawings, a great deal of effort and time went into this beautifully crafted letter. Right at that moment I wanted to kill her teacher.

Monday, oldest daughter 'Zip' took Little Miss Mischief shopping for some pressies and some sister to sister time. Stuck in a long queue, LMM couldn't understand why Zip was buying presents for the family. Zip went into a long lecture about the beauty and love of gift giving and Santa was not really real, when a lady behind them interrupted the conversation with "I hope you don't grow up like your sister, because that would be a very bad thing. Only Santa brings presents for good children".
Zip sore red, and there was steam streaming out of her ears from sheer anger. I got to know about it when she fumed over a sedentary Chai in the kitchen upon their return, the rest of the world got to know about it beforehand via facebook mobile. I spent the time whilst they were at the shops wrapping LMM's presents, they were now under the tree and LMM was a tad more angrier about the growing stash under our magnificent tree. I guess watching the endearing Christmas DVD's over the last couple of weeks hasn't helped either.
We all spoke in turn with her about the meaning of Christmas, none of us at all successful, until her older brother Ritch might have just said the right words as she 'got it' after listening to him. She came bounding out of Ritch's room with "Dad, we are going shopping tomorrow, as we haven't done that together, and you need to buy some presents. I will help you, OK? it will be so much fun".
Maurie gulped.
Yesterday, after getting dressed in her favourite pretty clothes at 5am she was ready to go 'hit' the shops with daddy. Daddy was snoring away in slumber land.
I held her off till 6.30am when she presented her father with a high protein breakfast of bacon and eggs in bed. "Cant have you irritable for a day shopping!" Role reversal here I think.
8.30 am they were off for a day of Christmas shopping together.
Zip and I were free to do some major errands, Little Miss Mishief free, yay.

When they both got home later in the afternoon, she threw me my swimmers and towel and ordered me out the back door for a swim in our pool. There was some wrapping to do. She pushed me out the back door under strict orders not to return till she said it was OK. The water was very cold.

When she came out a little while later, she had me so close to tears of joy when she said with such a huge beaming proud smile "You are so going to love what I bought for you, so much that you'll want to squish me tight and love me forever, you are so going to love it!".

Over pillow talk with Maurie last night, he said how she went straight to a jewellery store and picked out a ring, before Maurie was even inside. I lost both my wedding and engagement rings 3 months after our wedding which hasn't sat very well with me. I have lamented over the loss terribly, and LMM knows. The ring she picked out had a price tag of over $5,000, which Maurie had to talk her out off, with your mother will kill me aspect. He assured me that they found something very beautiful that she loved even more. I can't wait, not for the gift itself, but for the love that has gone into it.

A very Merry Christmas everyone!!!!!!!!!!

Women are from Venus and Men aren't, thats why men are always in the Dog House

JC Penney:beware of the Dog House

My epal Frank sent me an email with the above link of JC Penney: Beware of the Dog House. Laughed myself onto the floor while watching this so I just had to share it. Just click on it to watch the 4 minute clip.
I think most couples in particular the men could really relate to this video clip.

I can remember some years ago when my husband Maurie was placed into the Dog House for an almost eternity for the severest infraction a male could ever commit; Not Noticing the glam new Hair Cut!!!!!.

I had limp, waist length, deadpan straight blonde hair with a fringe that was too long. My hair was dowdy and I looked and felt just as dowdy, well overdue for a proper tidy up if not a complete overhaul.

I left Maurie at home in his office working away, while I found a hairdresser that could fit me in. A rarity in itself, we have 13 hairdressing shops to accommodate our tiny little town, they are always booked out for days on end, but that day the universe opened up to my needs, with a cancellation at the last minute, I was in.
2 hours later I emerged, the hairdresser having convinced me out of my decision to shave it all off, with bouncy layers of shoulder length honey coloured  hair with soft highlights of copper to accentuate the layers. I looked fabulous, gratefully leaving behind 12 inches of hair on the floor of the hairdressers. A lot of hair really, a lot.
Before I even got in my car to drive home, 5 people had commented on the fantastic new haircut. I felt remarkably uplifted and there was a spring in my step to rival the Easter bunny as I bounded up our garden path into our home.
Going straight to his office, we spoke facing each other. As the conversation wore on with Mr Oblivious, as I silently nicknamed him, my heart sank further and further. He hadn't noticed, nix, nothing. He hadn't noticed that 12 inches of hair was missing, or the simple fact that it was now a completely different colour and a totally different shape.
With subtle hints such as the dramatic flick of my head, toying with it's now short ends, fingering the top layers of the hair to lift the hair for further bounce, as I spoke with him, delivered his lunch, a cup of tea, the phone, some paperwork throughout the rest of the day, he didn't notice. My demeanour got sharply colder as the day wore on.......

When I am angry or upset the house gets cleaned with a thoroughness to rival sainthood. When the kids arrived home from school the house was spotless and my lips were a tight thin line of anger and disappointment.
Zip was first to arrive, as soon as she opened the door and saw me she screeched an excited "Love the new hairdo mum, wow you look amazing!".
I heard a loud "Do'h" excrete from Maurie's mouth which was still in the office along with the rest of his 'I am incredibly stupid' body. Seconds later, Ritch came through the door with the exact same reaction as his sister. Maurie was not game enough to leave the office.
Drue and Ryan weren't that far behind either, both went 'WOW" instantly. Drue scanned the house and realised by the looks of it something was amiss with his mother. It didn't take a genius to work out why.
He walked into Maurie's office finding him there plastered at his desk with his face buried in his hands, "you didn't notice mums hair cut did you? Oh man are you in the dog house big time!".
Not lifting his face away from his hands Maurie's reply was "Women are from Venus and men aren't ok".
Maurie slept on the couch for the next week.

After that near grounds for divorce fiasco, Maurie never missed a hair cut, that is until this year when I found out why he never missed such an important event.
Zip is always the first to know whenever I go get a hair cut, she would text message Maurie and the boys "Warning! Mum has new hair cut!". The boys, just to be on the safe side would forward the text or ring Maurie to make sure he didn't blunder again. Of course I was none the wiser.

So a few months ago, when I had a scheduled appointment for a hair cut, Zip promptly texted all the members of the family. I arrived at the hairdressers only to find that it was the wrong day. Not to worry my hair wasn't that bad, it could wait another week, I took the time to see a friend who was having some trouble with her business, so I was away for a couple of hours. Arriving home each of the family in turn said how great my hair looked.
I was confused because I hadn't done anything different with my hair?.

Tim walked in after dinner, he didn't say anything till he started to look for his phone that he left behind the day before, as he turned it on, the ting of copious messages rang through. After reading a couple, he looked up at me and said "Um, your hair looks really good,"
SPRUNG!!!

The Gift of Giving on a Microscopic Budget

It's the silly season and it's also Christmas.
My son is online asking me what I would like for Christmas. All I want is my family together, good times blended with good food and I'll be happy. It will be good food if my son Drue cooks.

That is easy he says, but I can't wrap it and put it under the tree he comments.

Each year since my oldest was born, the kids pick a label from the charity tree in our local shopping centre and get a gift for that person before they start to buy anything for their family or friends. I like the idea of giving someone in need a smile for Christmas. Someone you will never see their face when they open the gift you gave, I hope each year it puts a smile on their face.

This year I picked a label that said 'Mum, Dad, Boy 5 & Girl 7'. What does one give to a family that lives locally that are really doing it tough? In all practicality food hamper might go down well, clothing perhaps?
I decided on entertainment. I know from experience when the world around you is shattered the ability to step away from it even if its for only a couple of hours can be uplift any one's resolve.

I remember a year of not being able to take my children to the movies, when all their friends raved about the latest movie they saw. It was a choice of being able to eat for the week or go see a movie? which really meant there was no choice. Though the kids never complained, my heart sank at our situation, if a parent couldn't even afford to take their kids to the local cinema on cheap Tuesday night, even once in the year, it must be desperate.

With some great kids movies coming up for the school holidays I bought a family pass and put it in the envelope. It looked pathetic, this thin thing. Zip suggested a movie munch box, because a movie without the munchies is like rain on your holiday. So we bought 4 lots of sweets & chocolates, placed them along with the tickets into a large gift box. I felt better now.

Last year, walking along on one of my evening walks, overheard a young couple in their front yard lamenting about the cost of plants. Their new acquired first home was hitting the budget more than they expected. The garden would just have to wait a long, long time. The young woman seemed to be on the verge of tears. I have at home so many seedlings and cuttings that I usually give away to our local charity garden, I am sure they could miss a few for once. A week before Xmas, Drue and I delivered at just past midnight, just like Santa, except donning dark clothes instead, driving up their street with no headlights on, we put 3 trays of plants on their front lawn. Each of the 30 fledgling plants had label with the name and whether it was for sun or shade.
A year has gone by, all the plants were planted and the garden is looking great. I didn't cost me anything to make someone so happy.

In what was our 'Year of Living Perilously Close to Nothing' we had the best Christmas ever. Zip made me a CD rack. I only had 5 cd's but she made the rack to hold 10. A small plank of wood found in the shed, some nails for the dividers, and paints from my studio to embellish it, I still use it today, now that I have 10 CD's. Drue made a booklet of hand drawn vouchers aptly named "Son on Call", which gave me tickets to trade in for various things such as mowing the lawn, hanging out the washing, tea in bed, making dinner etc. Each voucher had quirky drawings and funny sayings. It was a gift that lasted most of the year.
It seemed to me we were trying to prove to each other that the lack of money cant stop happiness from appearing. There was no bickering, sooking about the gift received, but not really wanted, no fighting at the shops for parking, no time lost on impossible queues, no historical skeletons came out of the closet. We enjoyed what each of us creatively and ingeniously came up with.
We had everything poverty couldn't buy;  happiness.

Do kids really need to have that very expensive present?.
Does your love and devotion to them only amount to the value of the price tag? if it does, then the true meaning of Christmas is lost, Christmas should never be conditional.

I know one condition that will be added to Drue's annual "Son on Call" voucher book. The movie date ticket will have the rule "No Chick Flick's". Last year I embarrassed him with handing in the 'Movie Date with my Mum" voucher for him to take me to see the Twilight movie Eclipse. He sank so low in the seat with his hoodie pulled as far over his face as possible, terrified of being recognised. He might have been annoyed at my choice of movie, though he still upheld his promise to take me anyway, but his snoring was annoying!

Blended Family Reunions

Last night, as a blended family we celebrated my/our oldest daughter's 21st Birthday. OMG! how did that come around so quick!.
My ex husband along with our girl chose a restaurant in Sydney's Leichhardt suburb, called Tuscany. Usually a tad over an hour from home, it took us more than 2 hours in a gridlocked road called a freeway accompanied by torrential rain.
Before we left, Zip was running late with the demands of being dressed to the nine's in a stunning, yet daring outfit and all things a young beautiful girl needs to do to look even more beautiful. Then again it's her night and it's her birthday.
The 'boys', her older brothers, came online before we left to talk while I was braiding a squirming Little Miss Mischief hair. Simultaneously, one hand typing, one hand braiding, feet were trying unaided to slip into a tight pair of slingback shoes under the desk, I had it all under control.
Ritch emerges from his bedroom, having prized himself begrudgingly from his computer to actually get dressed, asks if he looks alright. Scanning his flannette shirt and daggy shorts, I tell him "upmarket darling, scale it up a bit". Scratching his forehead with a 'do I have to' look he comes back a second later, having changed only his shorts.
Men don't like getting dressed do they?

Finally on route, the car pelted by bullets of heavy rain, I'm glad they chose inside seating. It isn't very long at all when Little Miss Mischief asks "Are we there yet?". Sigh, insinc we all say "NO!"

For 2 hours, the family is sardined in Milly, my car. For 2 hours I hear Zip scoffing at Ritch's attire, both of then in turn, snapping at Little Miss Mischief wedged in the middle of the two, bouncing around more than a cat on a hot tin roof, the ting of constant text messages, the ring of phones and a radio not offering any sort of music that any of us enjoy at all.
At one point all of us bar Little Miss Mischief are talking on the phone, she's not happy with that, "Why don't I have a phone too?" she sooks. Ritch and Zip argue with her that she's only 7 and doesn't need one, she promptly returns a list of classmates that have mobiles. It seems every child in her class has one except her.
Milly begins to fog up, there's a little too much heat in the car.


Maurie, behind the wheel answers his phone (its' OK we are not moving at all) from a business partner, I answer a call from a friend, Sarah, who is in Port Douglass on a family sabbatical of road tripping around Australia. I am following Sarah's blog about up rooting her family from their luxury home and lifestyle in exchange to a life on the road with Vera, their camper van. All is not going too well for the newly aspired family of gypsies.

We finally arrive to a town that's come to life, people are everywhere. This is the part of city life that I miss, the hub, the hive of people living and entertaining, of being out there. A miracle happens; we find parking immediately and the 2 hour frustrated commute is just as quickly forgotten.

For a white linen napkin restaurant, unexpectedly Ritch blends in completely with the other patrons, Zips way over dressed, but serves to be delectable eye candy for most of the men in the restaurant. Mum, dad, step dad and step mum are so proud of our girl that I can feel a Stevie Wonder song coming on "Isn't she pretty, isn't she wonderful....."

The restaurant fronts the famous Norton Street, though open to the elements from the front we are protected from the rain by the large canopy. Across the road was once the SoHo gallery were I had an exhibition some years ago, it's now an all night book store. Many buses drive through the famous street, all the drivers are dressed in Santa suits, bellowing out reverie from their window, little Miss Mischief is excited about all the Santa's, racing out onto the sidewalk to greet them back. There are many groups of people from hen's parties, bucks parties and a few obvious birthday parties. The atmosphere is alive and electric.

The food is divine and the company even better. The one grandparent left, Nan Betty is there, not long flown in from England. For Betty, my ex mother in law, seated next to her new daughter inlaw, she is glowing from her new lifestyle of jet setting widowdom. Most of my ex husband's family are now scattered across Australia and the globe, Betty has many places to visit when the whim arises. For Zip & Ritch there are Aunts, Uncles and cousins, plus a step sister on the very long table, there are plenty of people to talk to. Little Miss Mischief dances around all of them, asking if they are her cousins too.
Technically she doesn't belong to my ex husband's family as she is mine & Maurie's daughter but she is warmly welcomed by them all.
I'm glad that both my ex husband and myself 'buried the hatchett' years ago, because if we hadn't, then this fun night of celebrating together would not have been possible.

To my beautiful, darling, gorgeous daughter, Zjarie my 'right hand man' for most of her life
Happy 21st Birthday Sweetpea!
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the sun always shine where ever you are.
May luck walk with you every step of your life.
May life present you an answer whenever you come to a fork in the road.
May providence smile when you smile.
May the Midas Touch always be at your fingertips.
May your beauty last longer than naturally fair.
May love warm your heart and cool your woes.
May your life be an uplifting roller coaster ride
May the sunset and each morning sun be as beautiful as you are in your long life
May love and happiness live in your life as much as I love you.


In future years both my ex husband along with our new spouses and myself will need to get together for occasions our children will put us through, such as wedding's, birth of grandchildren (fingers crossed) birthdays etc. For many people that have divorced parents, events like these are an emotional nightmare, often resorting to double celebrations or even secrecy.
A friend of Zip just recently engaged is going through this type of nightmare. The whole joy of their happiness is being marred by warring parents. After a couple of weeks of heated phone calls, the bride to be on the verge of a total emotional breakdown, the groom to be called all the parents (both sides are divorced) and laid down the law
"We want the people that we love and matter the most in our lives to celebrate this wonderful time. Stop being so incredibly selfish, self centered and cruel. Come to our engagement party as proud loving parents, but your issues are definitely not invited, not wanted, they are the partners you can keep at home".
Well the phone went quiet he said,  the official engagement party is next month, lets hope his young, wise words of wisdom work.