The Moment My Son Went Missing

It was five in the afternoon. I was on the phone to my husband putting bids on auction items online for him before time ran out. My 13 year old and 11 year old boys were looking after my 2 year old.

My hubbie and I spent about 12 minutes on the phone which is a record for us – normally we will talk for 1 or 2 minutes while he is away at work because my husband is not a phone person. Mind you our record breaking conversation this day was all about timber, cables and ladders which was broken up by my two year trying to steal the phone so he could talk to his Daddy.

I yelled to the big boys to come and get him so I could finish up on the phone, they did and I finally had peace. A few minutes later all was done, all was quiet. Closing down my laptop screen I noticed my 13 years old feet dangling over the lounge and so I asked “Is D there with you?” “No” he said dismissively. I stood up. Heart beating a little faster as I noticed the back door open. Calming I saw my 11 year old outside so I asked him “Is D with you?” “Nope” he said dismissively. I ran to the edge of the patio and scanned the backyard – empty…. Then I saw the side gate was open. I screamed at the big boys to get up and look for D as a sick feeling settled in my stomach. With my parents living next door there was a big chance that’s where he was but as I ran towards the side gate I saw the front gate was open too… Again I screamed out totally unaware I was doing so. I ran to my parents back door hearing voices and there sitting up at the breakfast table eating banana lollies was my little D.

15 seconds of my life was all he was missing for but the ‘what ifs’ had me reeling for hours. How do those whose children go missing ever get rid of that feeling? That sinking sickening feeling. The dread, the pain, the sadness. I’m the lucky one. Nothing bad came from my minutes of distraction and I am lucky that he wondered safely next door and wasn’t more inquisitive of the open front gate.

How do you move on? How would you ever stop looking? But I guess that’s the only motivation to keep going, the search. Searching for clues, answers and reasons why. I can see now why parents of missing children never give up. You just couldn’t. Regrets and hindsight – two very painful things.

One love
DRK xxx

This little boy is still missing.

Please bring him home to his parents.

William Tyrell

William disappeared from the balcony of his grandmother’s home in Benaroon Drive, Kendall, at 10:30am on September 12. Police said he disappeared in a five-minute window while playing alongside his sister.

The house where William was last seen is directly across the road from the Kendall State Forest, about 35km south of Port Macquarie. William has dark hair and hazel eyes and was last seen wearing a Spider-Man costume.

(Information courtesy of abc.net.au)

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Lets Get Real

Ok Superwomen I’ve been hearing lots of stories about mean girls lately and I’m not talking teenage girls, I’m talking big knicker ladies!! I’ve heard that these women are cementing themselves on pedestals and talking down to their fellow ladies …. This. Is. Not. On!

These women are new to the ‘mean girl’ world which makes them dangerous because their egos are massive! They think that they’re something pretty darn special and not in a good way because they’re under the impression that their ‘something’ is more special than the other Superwomen around them. BUT let me say this ladies – by being mean to other Superwomen you become less of a something – instantly! You weren’t born with nor have you developed an additional ‘awesome’ gene. You haven’t been given extra birth rights that makes sure your shit doesn’t stink coz, let’s be honest, it does – just same as the Queens or the Superwoman you just had a dig at.

It’s so cliche but it really is true, that beauty radiates from within. Believing you are ugly though, is when you make a decision that your appearance means more then your values, that your looks mean more then the goodness and love you offer to the world. It means that you judge yourself based on the judgements of other people and their ideals of what beauty is. It means you judge others because to deem yourself ugly you have to judge another to be beautiful first….

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What I do believe is that confidence is damn sexy but ego and vainness is neither sexy nor beautiful and ego’s that revolve around thinking you are better then everyone else is the ugliest trait I know. There is nothing sexy about an ugly, conceited, mean driven ego.

But now I’m going to be honest, most of my life I have considered myself ugly. Why? Because I compared myself to what is stereotyped as beautiful and I do not measure up. I am not thin, toned, tanned, photoshopped perfection. But once I peel back the pictures and pedestals, when I do connect with my inner self I see it … The ‘real’ beauty and not in aesthetic way. And if I had the choice of people remembering me as a kind, generous, loving soul or being a fake superficial mean girl then the decision is easy. I’d choose substance over narcism any day.

So here’s my advice – stop being mean and creating a world of comparisons and judgments because it is setting women back. While we are making these changes let’s raise our girls to be strong, kind and feminine. To shift the focus on looks and status and teach them to intelligently accept and love each other and especially themselves because while we waste time fighting amongst each other we stunt our growth in the big wide world.

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Now go, pull up your big girl knickers, clip on that cape and when you find someone standing over you on their fake insecure little pedestal send them love and fly away, they wont fly after you – they can’t because their rose smelling shit has them weighted down.

One love
DRK xxx

The Gift

Back in 2008 I worked in Real Estate. I was a Sales Consultant and a single Mum to three. It was a tough time because although the job offered a retainer enabling me enough money to feed my kids and pay my rent I had to eventually pay it back. Even though I worked my arse off and sacrificed time with my kids the debt grew. I had made this career choice as the market was in its decline and realistically it would take a few good sales to get that debt out of the red and into the black.

Over 5 months in and close to $11,000 in debt, myself and a colleague headed to the City for some training and to find inspiration from some of the best Real Estate reps in WA. By this stage I was ready to give up. To cut my losses and to prove myself right – that I wasn’t cut out for Real Estate. I had never seen that kind of money in my life and couldn’t get my head around the fact that I would ever be able to pay it back and I felt like a fraud. On meeting these big time Reps I was inspired. They dined us and took us out for a night on the town! I went home the next day with a hangover, new ideas and super motivated.

Then about a week later a massive parcel arrived at my workplace. Inside were a couple of outfits for each of my children and attached was this note …….

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It was the most amazing gesture I had ever received. Simple, thoughtful and life-impacting. I cried so much on and off for days – it made me so emotional that someone would care and believe in me that much. I remember scanning the room for the guilty person in my workplace. They weren’t there or at least I don’t think they were. The gift was a complete surprise and it completely changed the course of my life because I chose to stay and staying meant I met my husband who I had two ridiculously gorgeous boys with and also soon after the gift arrived I was out of the red and into the black … well and truly.

To that person who sent the gift, who I was never able to thank, well, I thank you here and now. I thank you with all my heart and I will pay the gift and the gesture forward.

One love

DRK xxx

Working Shit Out ….

What do you do when you don’t know what to do? How do you figure it out?

I am so busy with a full household and with a full household comes a full schedule and with a FIFO husband comes a fucken full schedule. I barely have time to do anything on top of the necessities let alone spend time finding out what it is I really want to do. Even since giving up Facebook with all my extra time I have now started blogging daily (yep, loving it) but I have already let slip some household duties, namely ironing, so I am now overloaded with ironing piles – now remember I have five children right so skimping on ironing even just for one day is bad …. really bad! Also I am not vacuuming every day as I usually would and I have only mopped once this week – which may not sound bad but it’s not my usual way of housewife-ing and again lets just remind you that I have five kids – four of which are stinky dirty boys!

If I had more time (or was more organised) I would have weekly menus, shopping lists ready to go, a de-cluttered home (yes the ironing would be done), I’d exercise more to have the figure that I desperately want, and I’d have a plan of what I want to do in my life. So I need to be organised to be organised right?! Maybe this is fairly common for stay-at-home/working mums because during the whole ‘giving’ and ‘being’ we forget who we are and we become confused as to what it is we should be doing as opposed to what we want to be doing but then that would be totally selfish right?!

So I asked myself an important question and quite possibly a pointless one …. Q: If time and money weren’t an issue what would I do?? Really what would I do? A: Well, my dream is to renovate old character houses, decorating them in styles and themes that I love and then I would on sell them and they would be smokin’ red hot because I have some awesome ideas and concepts! I would write a best selling novel because I have so many friggin’ cool stories locked away in my creative mind. I would holiday in the sunshine coz I like it all sunshiny and warm, hell I’d have a holiday house where I would go to write. I would inspire others to live life – I don’t know how I just would. I’d read a book in a day, a whole freakin book! I’d have a personal yoga instructor and an ironing person and a chef and a person who comes in every day and puts new sheets on my bed! I knew I should of been born a princess!

Not sure it is helpful to think of these things and I think I am done now having a whinge for now …

I would love to hear your dreams and goals – come on, fucken inspire me Superwomen!!!

One Love

DRK xxx

Meaning of Life

I came here today to write as I do most days. But today what I wanted to write about had no words, no reason, it made no sense. I became frustrated because I wanted to put a positive spin on things but I’m not feeling it right now.

I want to know what becomes the meaning of life when you receive a death sentence, a timeframe of how long you have left in this world? How fair does that feel? How raw, confusing, frustrating and mean!

Are we here simply to experience Groundhog Day – work, home, sleep? Are we supposed to give all that up and live off the land and give away all our materialistic attachments? Should we spend our life ticking things off our bucket lists to fulfill what working cannot…. Is this the meaning of life?

We live in fear. We lack confidence. We focus on mundane shit usually in the name of vanity and I am speaking for myself. We devote ourselves to self-improvement when we are all already selfish enough. What is the meaning of this life?

It’s not me who has to wonder these things for real but I still feel mad and so incredibly sad that this is happening to someone I know. In fact it’s happening to people all around the world – maybe even someone you know.

So I ask again just one last time with genuine confusion…. What is the meaning of life?

One love
DRK xxx

All Grown Up

I can’t believe time can be so variable. When you are in pain or awaiting important news time seems to slow down. To tick by like it has nothing better to do than procrastinate it’s ticking. Then in other circumstances, and generally in hindsight, time flies. It flies by so suddenly like its a part of the speed of light.

And this is very true for my life as a parent. Especially as I have just experienced my daughters Year 12 Ball. And ball I did. I balled like a baby. For many reasons. She’s my only girl. She’s my eldest. She is nothing like me at that age (which is a good thing, a really good thing). She had endured a pretty shitty few weeks leading up to her night – confusion which lead to heartbreak, a mean teacher (this kid loves school so that says a lot) and old friends who decided they would turn against her, bitch about her and spread rumours.

Then a week before her ball her dress finally arrived and it turned out it was a curtain disguised as a terrible looking curtain. Her shoes arrived two days later and were a size too small. Five days before her ball we ordered a new dress… Three days before her ball we realised it was coming from the UK (we are in Oz). 27 hours before her ball we had a spare 8 dresses kindly donated if we needed them from some of my awesome friends. 26 hours before her ball her new dress arrived – yay! 25 hours before her ball we realised it didn’t fit – boo…. 8 hours before her ball we had it altered by a sewing magician. Then we borrowed some shoes from a gorgeous beach babe friend of mine who is now how I see my daughter growing up to be – they even look alike. She had her hair and makeup done by (again) awesome friends of mine and voila ……

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Isn’t she beautiful!

 

I have to be honest – because thats what I do best – it was not how I had envisioned my one and only daughters ball to be. I’d pictured a thousand times how her day would unfold and how she would feel that day…. I had, years prior once I realised she was definitely going to be my one and only girl, picked out a dress for her, a dusty pink dress, with sequins and feathers and lace and lots of feminine girlie pretties, created a folder with pictures of makeup, hairstyles and accessories. Yet she chose red, bohemian and sultry. She looked beautiful and it was totally her style, my boho baby! And I am proud! So very proud to have had this babe choose me to be her Mum. She’s intelligent, incredibly kind-hearted, creative and she loves to organise my pantry cupboard! Winning!

Me & T

My girl & her mumma bear (me…. derrr)!

Better get started on her wedding folder…. Forget bridezilla cue motherfuckinginlawzilla! Mwahahahahahahaha …..

One love

DRK xxx

I’ve Evolved

I started blogging in November 2013 and honestly, I can’t believe it has been that long already because essentially I still feel like a newbie. So, in light of my ‘blogging experience’ I decided to take myself back to the beginning to see where it all began for me and I re-read some of my earliest posts……… Wow I was mild-mannered new blood wasn’t I?! Now I’ve turned into a foul mouthed whining bitch who really loves giving life some real potty mouth curry!

I laughed as I saw my first swearing post came with a language warning. Now I might as well warn you when I don’t swear coz you’d probably be shocked and bored out of your brain with my sweet words or maybe I’d actually get more traffic and have more chances of being freshly pressed if I sanitised my mouth (or keyboard). I can guarantee this post will not be Freshly Pressed …. Wait for it …..

I’ve gone from the pretty 2013 language of ‘sheesh’, ‘little suckers‘ and ‘friggin’ to a whole lot of motherfucking-mother-fucking-shit in 2014/15!

I’m not embarrassed in fact I fucking love it! Evolution at its fucking finest in my opinion!! I came here to be real. To be honest about the Superwoman that I am or that I am not and while I may not have this trash mouth permanently out in the real world sometimes I have these types of obscenities running through my mind consistently.

 

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THE EVOLUTION

 

 

Thanks for joining me in the process of this Superwomans evolution!

One love

DRK xxx

I once slept with Johnny Depp

I dreamt some really weird shit last night. Also the night before that AND the night before that too!

I dreamt about friends being really mean, murderers out to get me, then me murdering one of them in self defence with their own weapon which was those star disc thingamabobs that you see in the ninja movies…… It’s called a Shuriken apparently (thanks Google!) – don’t ask me to pronounce it though!

My self defence included a very detailed scene of being squirted with blood from a gashed thigh artery. I think it even went in my mouth – why would I dream something so graphic! Let me tell you it wasn’t pleasant. This is the first time I’ve had a dream like this but I often dream of mean girls and a cheating partner which generally gets my day off to a bad start. This usually involves me rolling over and whacking my husband on the shoulder with my cranky-pants-husky-morning-breath voice accusingly yelling “You cheated on me last night.” Yep, that means no morning glory sunshine coz you jumped into my dream and bed with another woman!

I used to analyse my dreams, keep a dream diary and try connect the dots. Now I am just thankful for being able to sleep and watch movies at the same time. I’ve always been a very visual and creative person so its no wonder my brain can’t shut off. If only my hand could type while I’m sleeping coz then I would be pumping out some pretty awesome best selling novels!

I once slept with Johnny Depp. He’s my hall pass. I’ve been in love with him since the late 1980’s so to finally get a chance to shag him was pretty … well it was a dream come true or not really a dream come true more truthfully just a dream. Oh well better then thigh slicing with Shurikens! Hoping Channing Tatum might visit me next 🙂

Here’s some Johnny love to brighten your Friday…….

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One Love

DRK xxx

More Toilet Inspiration

Some time ago I wrote a post called 60 Minutes Left To Live. It was a really powerful post, my most viewed of all time and still to this day it makes me adapt a new attitude after reading it while I’m having ‘one of those days’. I wrote this deep post after being inspired by a friend who lost her brother-in-law in a tragic road accident. She asked me the of the accident to write a post to remind people in her circle, in the city we live and around the world to put life into perspective. It was my honour.

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Today, almost 12 months to the day since her brother-in-law died I bumped into her…. In a public restroom of all places. It was inspiring regardless of the odours emanating from the toilet a few feet behind us. Women came in to do their business only to find two other women gas bagging about life, real deep and meaningful stuff. We talked about death, the impact it makes on people – the good and the not-so good. How people change and deal with it differently. We discussed how when tragedy, death and pain enters your life so suddenly, so severely that you are forced to acknowledge who are the real people in your life. Death brings about a de-cluttering of shit, of toxic people and clears your head of judgement that may have been holding you back or stewing within you.

We spoke of my own de-cluttering as I said goodbye to Facebook which has drained me, goodbye to my business and who I have identified myself to be for such a long time and au revoir to friendships which no longer serve me and have not fulfilled me no matter how much I have immersed myself in them. Our conversation, in the space of 10 minutes in a stinking toilet block, was deeper and more real than conversation I have had with ‘friends’ over a drink.

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And do you know what was an added bonus? We inspired a few other ladies who opened up on their way out of the toilet. Sharing their thoughts to two strangers who couldn’t find a more appropriate place to gasbag. It was funny yet nice to know they had something to say. So we are thinking of holding weekly meetings there if anyone is interested? We realised this is a place you can really talk deep shit and let go of your shit! Same place, same time next week ladies!

One Love

DRK xxx

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Vagina Biscuits – Yep, Vagina Biscuits!

Sooooooooo ……………..

I ….ah… ummm…. well I googled ‘Vagina Biscuits’ the other day. Yep, Vagina Biscuits. Now I know you may be wondering why on earth I’d google something like that and I’ll get to the reason soon, promise. But it’s likely that you may be a lot wiser then me and already know what a Vagina Biscuit is OR what you think it is, like me who was pretty certain I knew what it was! And let me tell you what I thought it was and what it actually is according to google well lets just say VB’s are definitely not the kind of biscuits you’d share with Nana over a cup of tea!

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Mmmm tasty!

 

 

Let me tell you the two things I learnt from my Google research ….

One: a vagina biscuit isn’t what I thought it was and
Two: a vagina biscuit REALLY ISN’T what I thought it was….

Which leads me to this concern…How did you get here? If you accidentally landed here then what on earth did you google to come across this post or perhaps more importantly, where have you been before you ‘innocently‘ arrived here? But assuming you are one of my loyal followers and that you are here honourably I’m telling you, especially if you are a little bit prudish like me – don’t Google Vagina Biscuits ………… Ok? You got it? Do. Not. Google. VB………………………………….

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…………………………You just Googled Vagina Biscuits didn’t you?!

 

I said I would share the reason why I googled Vagina Biscuit in the first place but first lets shorten it to VB otherwise the word vagina is going to turn my M-rated site into an X rated 1.9.Hundred Johnny-came-lately site! So Googling started innocently enough. With a walk, a good friend and a conversation about her cervix or lack thereof. She was telling me all about these pessaries that she has to use to help her with her progesterone levels and to keep her cervix stable during pregnancy. Pessaries being the VB. A biscuit for your vagina – get it?!

As the words VB tumbled out of her mouth I giggled like a 9 year old who had just heard the word penis for the first time. “What the hell is a VB?” I had asked naively. Happy to share the details she indulged me and we both agreed that it would make a good blog … So when I got home I googled it, to get some inspiration and appropriate information, you know so I wasn’t spinning complete bullshit. Instead I ended up with a shitload of dirty words and words related to all things edible for example: fur burger, pink taco, passion fruit and my personal favourite (*insert sarcasm*) a meat wallet. There was also graphic images of VB, and a god awful song about VB on youtube by some disgusting teenager who obviously hasn’t been taught how to be a real man – his Mama would be real proud! There was nothing, and I do mean nothing, on pessaries, progesterone or cervixes!

The saying ‘learn something new everyday’ certainly applied on this particular day and if you want to know what the real definition of a VB is then head here…… http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=vagina+biscuit

This is for those who already knew what a VB was ... Now you too have learnt something new! I also thought a banana was appropriate ....

This is for those who already knew what a VB was … Now you too have learnt something new! I also thought a banana was appropriate ….

Well that’ll be enough dirty talk for one day ….

One love

DRK xxxx