Words of Wisdom. Do not procreate.

You know what? If you're a parent like myself you would probably get it already. Parenting is hard. If you aren't and around the twenty year old mark, then probably to continue on reading would be great contraception for you. If you are a parent and around the forty and upwards of age then why the hell didn't you warn me?

I have only just now resurfaced from going under an avalanche of dirty washing in my laundry. I can now see the floor!! Go me! *high 5*. We all earlier in the week had the horrifying vomiting and diarrhea bug. Not just the 24hr vomiting bug, this one was extra special. It came to visit Friday night and only sort of left the building on Monday. I was so fucking glad it left. The kids and I all had it, taking turns at vomiting, I was laid out cold. I could almost see the light. I was 'this' close to death. Well, it felt like it at the time. I lost 5 kgs in a day. Bonus! The kids got through it all ok and thankfully I had Greg came to save the day. But what if I didn't have Greg to help me? Would I have perished under a ice cream container of vomit? How do single mums or dads get through times like these? Some may have some sort of support like their parents but what about the ones that have no one?

Sorry short but sweet. But this is all I can get out right now. My brain is the consistency of scrambled eggs. Uncooked. 

Chill The F Down

Ooooooom....

^^ That's me on the left...the Lemur who has no idea how to meditate or CTFD (which is short for 'Chill The Fuck Down'). How the hell could I know how to meditate? If I tried I would probably have a child sitting on my head!! But I am willing to give it a go, I'm up for anything, I've tried alcohol, but money is too tight at the moment to become a raving alcoholic and besides most of you know what it is like to wake up with a monstrous hangover and have to deal children. They seem to know when you're at your worst. 

As some of you may be aware, I'm a bit strung out. So I am doing what I can to CTFD. At the start of this week I received a vile of aromatherapy oils, called 'Peaceful child' anything is better than 'Possessed Child' as sometimes I really think my kids carry on like the girl possessed by the devil in The Exorcist. At times there is actual vomit powering from their tiny mouths and their heads spin 360 degrees round on their necks.

Back to the oils, they surprising have been having a good effect, I bath the kids and dab it all over their bodies (well flick like it's holy water) and place my hand on their heads and say, "DEMON!! COME OUT!!!!" Not the actual truth but you get the drift. 

I have also set up a CTFD area in my house, where it will most probably be used as a naughty corner or a corner for myself to rock back and forth in the fetal position while crying and dabbing oils on myself (I use them too for my anxiety). 

But this is my sanctuary>> Peace out ;)

Be the kind of person you want to meet.

Today is a society of unhappy, ungrateful angry souls. I come across a lot of people who fit into this position perfectly. No I am not talking about people who are my friends or family just the general public. Everyone is growling at each other. I get that life is at a much faster pace than it was back when I was a wee one but it really needs to just slooow down. Take a chill pill 2014!!

Examples of unhappiness and grouchyness you will find in/at:

Shopping centres: I avoid going to them. I used to love shopping pre children days, but now I hate them and plus you need lots of money to visit them. I now pretty much shop online at any chance that I get (bonus extra- you don't need shoes!). Also you get to avoid that grouchy old bag at the checkout glaring at you while your kid screams to take the wrapper off their chuppa chup. Do you know how hard those bastard things are to get off under pressure? Normally if I do go through the checkout I choose the self serve option but thats a nightmare in itself too. "Unexpected item in the bagging area", it says. Meanwhile one of my kids have sat their arse in the 'bagging area'. "Uh, excuse me (putting hand up to the KMart employee) can you please direct me to the closest bottle shop?"

School pick-ups: You get the soccer mums, the fitness mums, the working mums, the thermomix-tupperware-norwex mums, the mums outside the fence sucking on durries, the overprotective mums, then you get mums like myself, sitting in the car air con cranked, little ones in the back having a sleep while I have just one moment of peace before the chaos starts for the late afternoon riot. I really hope it gets easier. Some people say kids get easier as they get older then others say their teens are horrible, hormonal demons! I dont know who to believe. I just may need to start stocking up on wine, I might even start digging a hole for an underground cellar and lock myself in it during those puberty years.

Social: Media. Need I say more. A whole bunch of unhappy men and women who have nothing better to do then misread, criticize, attack, belittle and know it all. Dont get me wrong, facebook can be a really supportive place where people can go into groups and ask for advice like, "Why is my child crying? Or why is the sky blue? or "If me and my partner just had unprotected sex could I be pregnant?? Gahh! I make a sly little joke and I get my head blown off! So I then say, "Hmm, if my suspicions are correct you will get your period tomorrow! You get a period! You get a period! EVERYONE gets a period (in a OPRAH voice of course)! Then I get told I am being rude and childish. Well then... I shall take my humour elsewhere.. *packs imaginary suitcase of one-liners*

Lighten up peeps. Life is better when you're laughing.

Let it go

Well, here I am. A few (silly) people have suggested I start a blog. I really don't know why they would suggest I do a blog. Maybe they're just sick to death of reading all of my stupid statuses on facebook and would rather me write else where. I don't know. But seeming I have so much time in my day to air out my thoughts onto the screen *cough* it may be a good thing for me to let it out through the keyboard instead of keeping all of it in my (vacant, little) mind.

For those who have no idea who I am, my name is Katrina. I wish my name was James. James Bond. Because that would sound way cooler. But I'm not a man, and I'm not a spy (was James Bond a spy?) See after having three kids I can't even recall what James bond was about. My brain has literally turned to mush. You know a bit like mashed potato. I have two boys and a little girl. They are my world. They take up approximately 99.5% of my day, I get about 10.444882 seconds in the shower to myself. The rest of the time they sit in front of me while I do my business on the toilet, follow me around the house while I am cleaning. Because yeah thats pretty much all I do is clean. Which leads me on to the topic of vacuuming. I been having a love affair with my dyson vacuum cleaner for the last 5 or so years. When a child starts having a melt down because they don't have their pillow in a perfect position while watching a Garfield episode they've watched dozens of times before or something else just as petty, I just turn in to the most domesticated, vacuuming, goddess of all time. It drowns out all of those whining cries. I could vacuum for hours. It doesn't get old. Because when you have children like mine where they can go from angel to an absolute devil in the blink of an eye its good to find your happy place. My happy place is zooming around the house with my trusty old vacuum cleaner (occasionally with wine in hand). If you ever come to my house and my floor is dirty? Its been a good day.