Food nazis.

Isaac started Kindergarten this year. And I remember food at kindy as being fruit that appeared magically peeled and cut up and you ate what bits you wanted out of a communal bowl on the table. There was also a honey sandwich in there somewhere. Easy. Peasy.

The following is an actual list of food rules at Isaac’s kindy:

No nuts or food that may contain nuts

No dried fruit

No cake

No muesli bars

No honey

No cold deli meat

No flavoured yoghurt

Nothing with a high sugar content

No white bread

No fruit juice or flavoured milk

Now… I understand the no nuts rule. Thats fine. There are kids there with serious allergy issues and I have no desire at all to kill them. But no saltanas and squeezy yoghurt is hurting us baaaad. These are kids. And mine woke up when he was 2 and decided all food was evil. He’s been limited to his sandwhich with a slice of cheese and a banana (which he refuses to eat but gets put in there anyway). Poor kid is starving.

But I have discovered a scone recipe that has zero sugar and I can hide any fruits and veggies in there that I want! I even use wholemeal flour do as not to accidentally sumon the devil when refined white flour crosses the threshold of the kindergarten building. Its wholemeal self raising flour, cream and soda water. You can add baking powder if you want to make them a bit fluffier. But mush up anything you want and chuck it in. Old bananas that have come home day after day? Banana scones! Carrot, pumpkin, cheese, apples. Anything! I’ve got some figs off Nan’s tree I’m going to try.

Scones. The answer to life’s problems.

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So after the horrible end to the guinea pigs I organised with a dude I work with who breeds guinea pigs for food to get a couple of his girls. And I fully intended to go around, pick two nice looking girls and head on my way. Only they were all either 2 days old or at least 2 years old and pregnant.

So we took two nice looking girls named fatso (she was clearly full of babies) and poo face (she has a brown stripe on her face) and agreed we would take our pick of whatever they produced. Poo face was renamed by Isaac. To Norville. And I’ve got serious doubts that she’s growing anything.

But today fatso produced FIVE little bundles of joy. Chances are there will be at least two girls in that lot. And they are so so cute!

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Mum guilt of the week…

He doesn’t know the correct names for genitals! 

He starts Kindergarten in a week and a half and I have failed him! Actually I’m not entirely sure if I failed him or if he’s just somewhat dense in this area. 

He knows there are girls and there are boys. But he has no idea why. He’s stared at me while I shower asking “mummy where is your doodle?” enough times now that he really should understand I dont have one. But then yells out helpful hints to me while I do the ‘I gotta pee’ dance at the supermarket, like, “mummy just squish your doodle and the wees won’t come out”.

It may not be my issue to stress about if I die of embarrassment. 

To be fair it was my mum who taught him ‘doodle’ for his penis. I used the much worse generic term ‘bits’. But I even blame mum for that. I grew up in a house where we all just pretended nobody had any bits. I grew up in a repressed house in the 80s and 90s. I’m not prepared to deal with this new fangled era of body awareness! 

A while back he got a fair whack to the ‘bits’ when he ran (literally ran) into the couch, and as four year olds do, ran over for me to fix it. Through tears and sobs “mummy kiss my doodle better” and I had a big chat with him about how nobody, even mummies and daddies, can kiss doodles better. And if anybody ever tried he had to tell me. So I’ve tried at least.

The biggest problem is that he’s four years old and he has no idea we all have such issues with bits. To him its just the dangly bit wees come out of and its just not a big deal. And I get that. When I was at kindergarten we went swimming and I had no idea why I had to wear bathers. I’d never worn bathers to go swimming in my life! You would absolutely have your children removed from your care if you let them swim at the beach starkers these days. Its up there with leaving them alone in the car or giving them alcohol in their bottle to help them sleep. But back then it was a sea of naked kids. And I honestly don’t remember wondering about anyone’s bits. I’m sure we all had them, but we were kids so they didn’t count. 

I’m going to get in so much trouble the first time he yells “doodle” at kinder.

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4 whole months.

That’s how long Annie and Clarabel lasted before our foray into pet ownership abruptly ended.

It was not my fault. I did not kill our two girls by means of neglect, starvation, forgetting them in the sun on the recent 40°C day, forgetting them to drown in the last two days of constant rain, over feeding, over affection or escape never to been seen again. 

Unfortunately where Isaac’s (my) two girls were concerned I actually wasn’t a bad pet mother at all. 

However, even the best pet owner is completely helpless against a wandering rottweiler who helps himself when you aren’t home.

Also unfortunately, he was one of the sweetest, friendliest, most beautiful dogs I have ever spent an hour of my life with. It wasn’t his fault its in his nature to kill rodents by any means.

We haven’t gotten a dog yet. When we do get one, he is exactly the sort of dog I would like to get. Without the guinea pig killing tenancies of course. Ironically, we haven’t gotten a dog yet because our yard isn’t secure enough to keep both it safe and the neighbourhood safe from it. 

So we’ve spent a very sad day doing things like explaining to a four year old boy that his first two pets aren’t around anymore (they went to go and live with a little boy who was really sad and we thought he needed Annie and Clarabel more than Isaac because Isaac is a very lucky boy who has lots of things and its good to share) and working out what we do now (we’ll find out how our local council is going to deal with it during the week and I’ll sort out a new Annie and Clarabel while I’m at work Wednesday*). If the dog owners can be found, they won’t get their dog back until a resolution to the situation has been found. I really hope they don’t get their dog back at all because they don’t deserve him.

So RIP little girls. I hope there is lots of grass where you are now (trying very hard to forget exactly where they are now).

*I work with a guy who breeds guinea pigs. To eat. For real. I will rescue a couple of those girls from his slow cooker.

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My life.

Well, my life summed up in one picture.

Very weird, a teensy bit smug, overall happy. Did I mention weird?

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The death of the English language. 

I’ve been ‘collecting’ errors for a few weeks. I know I’m not the world’s most perfect speller and my grammar is sometimes a little lacking. But these make my soul hurt.

Starting with my favourite :

For all intensive purposes. This has become such a common error, that as soon as I typed ‘intensive’ the word ‘purposes’ popped up after it in my predictive text. So so so many people just look blank when I point out that this is WRONG WRONG WRONG. In case you’re wondering, its ‘for all INTENTS and purposes’. Yeah. Makes more sense now doesn’t it? 

Gecko. As in ‘I trust everyone from the gecko’. Yeah. Really. Someone said that. Putting aside the stupidity of trusting someone before you know them (this post isn’t about that kind of stupid), why would you be trusting someone from a gecko? Are geckos particularly trustworthy? IT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE! And please don’t trust anyone from ‘the GET GO’.

A mock. As in ‘stupidity runs a mock in here’. Well… sorta… if you mean I’m mocking your stupidity. Sure! But if people are that dim then it might be stupidity running AMOK?

Jeans. As in, ‘your jeans have a lot to do with if you get sick or not’. Why? Are my jeans too tight and cutting off circulation? Are they the brand that have the carcinogenic dye that is going to kill me? I know GENES are quite important in determining long term health. But unless someone strangles me with my pants. Not so big a link between jeans and health.

Raft. As in ‘my husband will feel my raft if he keeps going down this path’. Unless you actually own a raft and are planning on beating your husband with it as punishment for his bad attitude, he will feel your WRATH.

Pronounce. ‘Proud to pronounce’. They finally settled on whether it is tomato or tamayto and you get make the announcement and you’re making a pun on ‘proud to ANNOUNCE’?

Defiantly. Instead of definitely. There is DEFINITELY a difference and most people learn that difference in primary school. A particular pet hate is when facebook business pages mix these two up. Not professional at all.

Ban. ‘Lets ban together’. Ahhh… the uneducated right wing feeling such fear of the unknown, they BAND together to ban together rather that just learning about what they are afraid of and not being afraid of it anymore.

Diddo. And not “did you do that?” “I diddo!” No no no no. Diddo instead of DITTO. 

Leased. ‘We see each other at leased once a week’. Where you have a rental contract for your Thursday night bingo date? Or… or, you see each other at LEAST once a week.

Amagen. IMAGINE my surprise that someone didn’t look at this and think “that doesn’t look right”.

Wreck less. I guess if you aren’t RECKLESS you probably would wreck less stuff. Pretty logical.

A where. AWARE. You know that thing your brain does where it sees the first two letters and last two letters and fills in the gaps to form the most logical sentence? When I saw this I read ‘as you’re probably a whore’ instead of ‘as you’re probably a where’. I was all “who’s a whore now?” Then “ohhhh, who gets that wrong?”.

Calmer is a bitch. You’re right. Calm is suss. Just do your nut. It may not be the best for your KARMA but you’ll feel better.

I would like everyone to know I suppress all grammar and spelling nazi tenancies on social media. I’m more ‘shake my fist at our useless government for letting our education quality slip so so low’ than ‘telling someone they’re an idiot when it was really bad education standards that failed them’. Hate the sin. Not the sinner.

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The Victory

Yesterday was a great day for my country. Yesterday, an almost two thirds majority decided marriage equality should be a thing. 

Now the fight is not quite won yet. This result isn’t legally binding for anything. But we were heard. Loud and clear. “Don’t be assholes,the gays are people too!” In the next few months this will be our history. Admittedly, shamefully late to the party, but we got there.

Yesterday I was at work when the announcement was made. Outnumbered four to one by outrageously dedicated pentacostal Christians who, with every atom of their existence, are opposed to the very idea of homosexuality. So yesterday, I got a very unique perspective on exactly how afraid these people are. I got a very clear picture of how religion is failing and why. I was bathed in hatred and homophobia and judgment. These ‘children of God’, spent the day spewing vitriol so vile that it left me sickened and convinced atheists are more Christian than the Christians could ever be.

I don’t believe in God. For a general idea how God fits into my life just google what Stephen Fry thinks about God. 

But, I’ve been listening to “god botherers” my entire life. I know God created man with free will. I know God asked man to be kind and compassionate and most of all, not judge. I know God sent Jesus to die for all our sins. Which apparently only applies to eating bacon and working Sundays?! I feel in my soul that announcing “well Satan and his poofters are running the world now” after a Yes result is not something God would care for. I feel in my soul that people who genuinely believe that homosexuality and transexuality and everything inbetween, is either a lifestyle choice or demonic possession, are making God sad.

I struggle to understand how anyone, who has ever been attracted to anyone, can believe anyone has any control whatsoever, over who they find attractive. 

Myself, I have a thing for tall blond boy band types. Eddie Perfect, Chris Hemsworth, Ryan Gosling/Reynolds. You know what I mean. They pop up in my field of vision and the reaction is 100% involuntary. Cartoon heart beating out of my chest all the way. 

So why is my attraction perfectly normal and a male feeling the exact same attraction as me an abhorrent sin produced by the devil? I can come at the notion that God is infallible. But it wasn’t God who wrote the bible was it? It was a bunch of men, years after the fact, who carefully edited events to serve their own purposes. And then… it was translated countless times. Mankind is most definitely fallible. Between Jesus telling them how to serve God and their putting into writing how we should serve God. I feel a few personal opinions have been thrown in for self serving purposes. 

So yesterday I got to witness a very special moment in the history of mankind. I got to see the very very real fear of those who have spent thousands of years controlling the minority, become the minority. People who basically, throughout recorded history, have bullied, abused, cast out, brutally murdered, tortured and do everything they could to break these people, are now outnumbered by these people and us who support them. And they are properly frightened. 

But they shouldn’t be. See… we’re not assholes. We understand that its ok to believe different things. We don’t like to be told what to believe so we don’t tell anyone what to believe. We wont treat them the way they treat people. Because we see the emotional damage their beliefs and judgment causes and we don’t want to make people feel like that. Its not nice to make people feel bad. Most people learn that as small children. I don’t see how being nasty in the name of God is ok?

Marriage equality wont be the end for humanity. Life will go on and not much will change. Maybe we will see more love because less and less people care about the genders of those in love? 

But for all the God fearin’ folk out there. Nobody wakes up one day and says “you know what? I think I’ll be gay! That looks like fun! The wrath of every religion embodied by angry people who follow me around calling me an abomination! I can’t wait! If I’m really lucky my family will disown me leaving me homeless in my teenage years and I will learn valuable lessons of survival while I live on the streets!” Yeah. Thats not a thing. Look at the suicide rates in the rainbow community and you will see its not a choice. Its who your God made them and for the longest time they have buried it in shame. You don’t need to hate them. Because of you they already hate themselves more than enough. Way to go! Its time to make a decision on what sort of person you want to be. You don’t have to be gay. You wont catch it. You just have to understand and embrace the concept that some people just are gay and you have to be nice to them too.

To leave on a positive note… I’m bloody proud of ya ‘Straya! 

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