We all know it. We’re at the crazy end of the year. The part I call the ‘bers. It is a functional name yet also makes me think of a Stephen King novel. Which is how the end of the year feels like for me half the time. It’s hectic, hot, steamy, mental. I have been plugging away and now I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, so of course my brain goes into shutdown mode. Or maybe I’m just really daft. A distinct possibility. The biggest thing that hits me at this time of the year? FAD. And no, not the FAD where you suddenly have the urge to grow a stately beard, wear flannelette shirts and ride bikes with baskets while sipping your double shot soy mocha latte decaf espresso out of your bric-a-brac tea cup. Though, I am partial to a good bric-a-brac cup. No my friends, I’m talking……..Fuck-a-duckitis.
It’s getting to the pointy end of the year. We’re getting tired. We can smell summer in the air (and by summer I mean G&T’s), and the end is in sight. It can wear our patience a little thin. It also seems to mean (in our street at least) the emergence of more door-to-door salespeople. I always hope that the incessant yapping of Bruce will deter them, but these appear to be a new hybrid breed of salespeople. Part human- part machine. The salesinator. They are programmed to knock and talk and shove items in your face (because THAT’S a thing now.) and not leave until they break your spirit.
So the other night I was putting Miss DP to bed. It’s a loooong process. But given I used to have to stand at her doorway for an hour, we’re doing super well now (my girl has some issues. She might need to talk to someone about them. But maybe not me because I could lead her down the garden path). She likes to waffle (not sure where she got that from?) before hitting the hay, so our bedtime prep is her waffling crap, featuring random statements and me nodding my head going ‘uhhh huh’ and ‘ohhh really?’ This one night though out of nowhere she said:
“Mummy, when people get married they make love……………………. hearts”
I nearly fell off the bed and choked on my tongue. My heart pounded like the double kick drum in a Metallica song. Kid be like four, there aint no people making love………….hearts in her Disney world!! I was breathing a huge sigh of relief at the last minute addition of ‘hearts’ to that freakin’ sentence. Miss DP is obsessed with marriage and babies at the moment. She is definitely getting married apparently, despite my protests of “girlfriend, you don’t need no one else to be happy! And you don’t need to get married!” complete with wagging finger. Snaps, girlfriend. And she’s marrying Prince Charming. Back off boys, only Prince Charming need apply. That’s my girl, set your standards so bloody high that no one can ever meet them. Read more
I’ve been a money miser for as long as I can remember. Mainly brought on by being poor, and not having much. But while it’s good to not be frivolous, sometimes it can lead me to be a total tight arse. I don’t like to part with shit. Ever. It’s a bad hoarding compulsion (but that’s a whole other post). What do you mean I won’t need that chipped cup? Sure as shit I will! And the Ms. Pacman Atari game, circa 1988? Well that’s simply a collector’s item! We won’t talk about the fact I don’t have a freaking Atari to play it on (which I would DIE if I had one. Love.).
In the second instalment of DSSH we turn to the age-old classic, The Little Mermaid. Holy shit I went to the cinema to watch this and now I watch my little ladies dress up as Ariel and ‘swim’ across the tiles in our house. It’s a tad creepy, but cute at the same time. Nothing like a mermaid, crab and a fish to teach you life lessons, huh?
Oh man. To have the imagination of a kid again. Apparently I used to have quite a wild imagination growing up, I have a ‘publishing folder’ packed with stories I would write incessantly as a kid. All with bizarre ideas and names and endings. Hilarious. Now I’m just a dull and boring git. See what you too can turn into, kids?!
My girls are now at an age where imaginative play is really coming out of the woodwork. I.can’t.get.enough. It is the BEST! They’re conjuring up crazy games and stories, well Miss Disney Princess (DP) is doing the directing and Miss Small Potato (SP) is just going along for the ride, but it’s all just awesome stuff. The names Miss DP comes up with are hilarious. A tiger named Belson. A horse named Moustache. No idea where she’s coming up with it all, but I’ll run with it.
You know how all the ‘research’ and ‘experts’ say that watching TV and stuff is bad? Well I say what a load of crap. TV can be great, and you know, if you can’t afford therapy, then look no further than your friendly Disney movie. That’s a treatment program right there. Neatly packaged in 90 minutes with bright coloured characters and catchy tunes. My work here is done.
We’ve just come back from an awesome trip away. Melbourne, Sydney; the whole jet-setting city thang. We came, we shopped (well, I shopped. Hello H&M, I’m so glad to see you again), we explored many a pub, it was great. That sense of freedom and being relaxed with time was just what I needed. And then…. came the last day of holidays and the return of my pent-up stress and fear upon the realisation of what I had to return to. So.much.work. So many obligations. The grind. I’m not a fan, I must say. I had some time to reflect over my ciders while away, and my extreme over-commitment to work projects (I had texts and calls on Sunday while away- who does that?!), and sometimes even to friend support simply comes down to one thing….. No-aphobia. It’s totes a real thing.
I’m reminded on a regular basis through my work how much pain people go through in life, and how we tend to have two choices. We either let it drag us down, or we use it to move forward. Sometimes we have to get dragged down before we can really see what’s out there and get back up again. It seems like every time I get my whingy mcwhinge pants on something happens that reminds me of a moment I had that got me hard. So last night I was stressing (as usual!) and working and watching a news report of a family who lost their son and suddenly I heard a name. Popped up in my mind and I stopped.
I love all things personality. I love getting to know others’ personalities, I love reading about personality traits, and I have a confession… I am a personality quiz addict. ‘Hi, my name is Sasha and I am compelled to take any sort of questionnaire starting with ‘what’s your……’. Hello, Cosmo.