As a mother of five you would expect me to be a pro at Mothers Groups! You would think that being a mother to at least one toddler at a time for the past 17 years would actually make me the Mothers Group CEO – fucking worldwide – by now!
But truth be told I have never been to a Mothers group….
Well actually, thats a lie.
I did go once but there were women and children all over the place!
There were Mums outside bitching about the Mums inside, there were kids, like, everywhere, climbing shit, hitting shit, snotting snot shit all over the place. There was whinging about who hadn’t made morning tea or brought the milk for the past 4 weeks and there was instant fucking coffee. I’d rather drink the piss the crazy little two year old just did at my feet than drink instant coffee. Yes I am a coffee snob! I believe if I am going to increase my heart rate, make myself feel like I’ve just popped an ecstasy pill and can conquer the world (or just my ironing pile) then I am damn well going to make sure that coffee is barista brewed. Barista coffee is heaven scent, it’s an art form, it’s sex in a cup – orgasm and all! Instant coffee rips you off. There’s no build up, no effort, there’s no love or post-coital cuddles. The only thing instant coffee is good for is pouring over vomit. True story! It absorbs the vomit smell and dehydrates it so you can just sweep it up – I’m assuming that will take days of drying though!
Back to my one and only visit to a Mothers Groups … There was so much competitiveness – whose kid was doing what, who had the worst/best experience of someone else’s experience and just a whole lot of not listening to each other or pretending life and everything in it was awesome, including perfect husbands which we all know is bullshit. There is no such thing as a perfect husband (or wife), god bless them. Oh and did I mention there were a billion fucking kids! I know there would be nice Mothers Groups out there. I know I could have just got them on a bad day. I know that some of those chicks are actually really nice chicks and I fucking like them a lot! But it was just too much for me! Too much of a commitment, too much hard work, too much involvement of doing and remembering stuff.
Then one day something fucking magical happened and it was something that really just unfolded on its own.
There was no forcing, no pressure, no strategy.
We created a Love Day – that day in the week we all look forward too, sometimes even need to fast forward to and quite simply LOVE. Wednesday is Love Day (WILD).
WILD is for women only. Kids can come, simply because they have to, but they have to go and play – like by themselves or with each other – you know like we had to do when we were kids. WILD started with like minded women who also happened to be my long term friends. We hang out, we force the children to move more than 50cm from our physical bodies (except for my two year old who is taking longer to detach his cute little toosh from my lap than the others – yay go Diesel!) and we fucken talk. Laugh. Vent. Cry. Counsel. We bake if we want too – which is never in my case – we cut up fruit if we can be arsed but we always, always have coffee – unless someone is detoxing or suffering from morning sickness then there’s a shitload of awesome Clean Tea in mismatched tea cups being poured!
It started innocently enough on any day of the business week that we were free. Then it moved to Wednesdays, permanently. We all agree this is the day we look forward to the most in the week. It’s our respite. There is just the four of us, normally, but it doesn’t mean others aren’t welcome. It’s cheaper than therapy and better than valium. Now we meet every Wednesday, occasionally on a Friday too and any other day in between that two of us are free at any one time.
We never have nothing to talk about. There are never any rules or restrictions. It is a love affair to rival the greatest love affairs of all time. We are all different yet we are all the same and we complement each other in ways that are really quite comforting and easy. There is no ‘trying’, no being careful with what you have to say, there are no wardrobe meltdowns because I feel that I have to compete with their gorgeousness – and that they totally are! There is also never any comparison of kids, their behaviours or abilities. In fact, we hardly remember we have them when we are together.
So I’ve decided Mothers Groups are not for me. They are too big, too impersonal, too focused on children and being a mother. WILD is the calm in the storm for me. It’s the normal in my crazy. It is my little life reprieve where I get to breath, feel like a woman and not just a mother. Wednesdays make me dust off my knees, refocus, refuel and regroup before the love/hate onslaught of motherhood continues. WILD makes me a better mother, a happier person and keeps me firmly and calmly seated in the roller coaster of life.
Me and my WILD girls….. At other events not at WILD specifically!
My Hubbie and I travelled home through the Swan Valley the other day which can only be described as lusciously dewy, especially in the mornings. We’ve done this trek many times and as usual it stirs up some long sitting dreams within us. It always starts out the same with my husband declaring that he would love to give up his day job and instead build wooden wagon wheels to sell Australia wide. Yes you read that right, wooden wagon wheels to sell Australia wide. He’d also love to own a draft horse, he says, and have a (home-made) carriage so we could hire it out for weddings occasionally….. It’s quite a sweet dream I’m just not sure how profitable wagon wheel selling is since… well since man invented cars?! But who am I to judge says the girl who is hoping to invent mosquitoes that suck fat.
We, also always discuss our common dream of having a B&B – mine luxuriously OTT with everything you could ask for and more (more as in stuff that is pretty useless but pretty all the same) and his is an upgraded version of mine site donger with the basic necessities and definitely no pretties. Our “matching” dream of running a B&B usually ends there because that is where my even crazier visualisations take over and my mouth follows suit. I have always said if I could attach a printer to my brain it would help people understand what I can ‘see’ in there – my next important invention alongside fat sucking mosquitoes… So before I know it I am telling him our B&B will be on lush, green acreage – totally realistic in this sunburnt Australian country! It is also purpose built for wedding one stop extravaganzas! By one-stop I mean there will be a stone ‘chapel’ which is cute yet totally practical, a reception hall decked out with all the mod-cons but with plenty of character and breathtaking beauty and of course, accommodation for the bridal party, guests and a kick-ass bridal suite for the lovebirds. I also added at the end of the conversation that we would also need a big bus to transport people back into town after the wedding… At this point my husband looked at me funny. Yep, that visual brain of mine got totally carried away confusing dreams with reality….. But that is so totally me and they are the luxurious additions to his simple dream of a bed and breakfast, wagon wheels and a horse drawn cart…. One Powerball and we can have it all … Except the year round lush green grass – courtesy of the Aussie summers!
While I had my hubbie in a chatty mood, which is rare because he’s generally pretty quiet, I asked him if he would like to inspire my next post for me. I asked him to think of a sentence to start me off or tell me something he’d heard/read/seen recently that was funny. Something that would get the writing juices flowing for the next four hours in the car. Well, surprisingly, his eyes lit up, a smile that I have seen a billion times spread across his face and his head started making fast paced whirring noises but as he opened his mouth to speak I interrupted him, as all good wives should, and said “It can’t be dirty, ok?” … Instantly his eyes lost their twinkle and the cheeky smile vanished from his face and I could tell he was trying real hard to think of something clean because the whirring noise turned into clanging and banging, I’m pretty sure I saw a puff of smoke come out of his nose too. That part of his brain hasn’t been used for awhile. Silence then followed for a moment as I left him to catch his thoughts until finally he said, “Nup. I got nothing! Unless you want to tell them about my dream the other night. You know the one with me and you and the really flexible girl on our dining table?” Yep and nup! I do NOT want to write a post about that. I am all good for classy girls swearing but dirty mens talk should be left in the shed as should womens unsugar-coated venting be left at the coffee shop because isn’t that all we do all day ladies?!
So, then this is it. This is your husband inspired post. A moment, a small slice of conversation between a husband and wife as they discuss their dreams and visions for the future. A post about our dreams and his dirty mind.
Have you ever wondered what the female version of the Man-Flu is? Recently while I had this strain of illness I did, in fact, wonder this and then I solved this…
Let me enlighten you….
It’s called “Fuck-it-I-don’t-have-time-to-get-sick” or better known as “Just-a-Cold”.
Let’s take a look at the obvious differences…
Husband says: “Aw Babe. I’m so sick. I think I have Man-Flu” ….
Wife says “Awwww honey that’s no good.” While really thinking to herself “Fuck there goes any help I was hoping to get for the next three days!”
Wife says “Achoo, achoo, achoo, achoo, achoo”
Husband says ….. Not a fucken lot.
Severe razor blade sore throat
Severe blah blah chicken
JUST A COLD
Just a runny nose
Just a little headache
Just a little razor in the throat
Just a little tired
Just a – oh really who gives a shit just get on with your day
Strict bed rest for three days straight
Ring bell for any service you require
No medication will help as this is the worst flu EVER
Sex may help relieve symptoms. Actually, sex will definitely relieve symptoms – briefly.
Go about your normal activities
…………………………………………………………………………… Annnnnd so there you have it!
A complete medical evaluation from someone with no medical background whatsoever unless you can include bandaid compressions on little knees, life-saving splinter removal from thumbs and panadol administrations to mini Man-Flu carriers….
Stay healthy dear Superwomen there’s a Man-Flu epidemic!