on sarcasm & b.

It's safe to say that I'm pretty much sarcastic all of the time. I used to use it as a defense mechanism to get through some pretty crappy stuff. And then, after holding it in for most of childhood {getting punished for being sarcastic got old pretty quickly}, it kind of burst free from me when Husband and I first started dating. Now, well, I can't really help it. Being a sarcastic bitch is just who I am. I like it.

I am drawn to people who are sarcastic, who can take my stupid humor and who can give it back. Husband, while not as naturally hilarious as I am, has learnt to love me, sarcasm and all. I have friends who can bite back. I like that. As I get older I realise that I can't stand people who get offended easily, who can't call me a whore to my face, who can't understand that I'm just joking, that this is who I am. I don't want to change.

But here's the thing, my kid is only six and she doesn't quite get the whole sarcasm thing yet. She's learning but she hasn't learnt the fine art of my stupid mouth and, so, when I tell her we can like her dad now because of a work achievement she believes me. And she repeats multiple times to her father this statement and I worry... I worry that she thinks it's true, that this is how we value people. No matter how many times I explain to her that I was just joking, that I'm stupid, that I shouldn't be taken seriously she kind of takes me seriously. 

So, do I stop being sarcastic? Because I'm not quite sure I can. I'd rather lose friends {and I have} who can't handle it than have to filter myself. I only tone myself down around people I don't like so when I'm quiet it's because you bore me. If I'm sarcastic and tell you I hate you it's because I adore you. I don't see what's so hard about that...

But, if I'm setting my child up for failure then I have to shut the hell up don't I?


mental health|numb

It's incredibly rare for me to have no words, especially written ones. But there are always those inexplicable times where I seemingly turn into nothing and I can't speak or write. It feels slightly ridiculous to say I don't feel happy or sad. I don't feel anything. I am numb. Especially when one look at my face, fixed in a permanent frown or look of puzzlement, seems to scream the exact opposite. But it's true. I feel nothing. I can't cry. My brain barely functions. My body aches in an empty sort of way.

I feel like I am nothing.

I feel achingly numb. 


friday five|potato

For some stupid, dumb, this is why I have no friends, reason I am obsessed with potatoes. Bailey and I use the word potato for a measure of something great. She actually invented it -- I love you times potato -- and since then, the potato obsession has grown. When I am completley at loss for words, or just too darn sleepy to function, I'll replace normal English with potato and hope that whoever I'm speaking to has learnt to tune me out by now {it's really the only sane way}. 

I've now become obsessed with the idea of needing potato themed things to show my love for the glorious things. Here's five --

potato print -- if you were a potato, you would be a sweet potato {love!}


misadventures in parenting|kids & sex

I guess you could say that I've been almost smug about the fact that Husband and I, in six years of parenting, have never had "parent sex". You know, that hideous sounding, rushed sex while the kid/s bang on your door? Or a quickie while they're occupied by the TV? That. Never. And while that's still true I feel as though I must confess that recently Husband and I almost became one of those parents who have scarred their child for life with their sexual escapades. 

Yes. Bailey almost caught us having sex.

Sure, it's not that big of a deal but when you're completely naked and have to cover yourself with a pillow while still sweaty and panting from a few orgasms, well, that's not my idea of fun. I don't need my child seeing that. Also, the idea of her asking me what that buzzing thing is or that black studded paddle like thing that could easily be seen as a toy when/if she's pretending to ride a horse. I don't need those kinds of questions.

I wonder if some people just give up that side of themselves when they have kids. How many people settle into boring noiseless sex? Should sex toys become obsolete? 

The older I get the more sexually adventurous I find myself becoming. And I've never considered the prospect of B. walking in on us when we've been doing anything but missionary. Can you imagine your child walking in on you while your tied up? Doing doggy style and using a studded crop? I'm potentially scarred for life just at the thought of it. 

Of course, the easiest solution seems to be -- lock your door. But the ship sailed when we decided to give up the master bedroom, a.k.a the only room that locks, to B. last year. I didn't even consider it until, a few days later, Husband asked what we were going to do when we wanted to have sex. I tried to be optimistic and boldly declared that it would never happen. We would obviously hear her. Clearly I am delusional.

I'm not sure I ever walked in on my parents having sex. They split up when I was two so if I did it's doubtful I'd remember. I remember being so terrified of ever seeing my "step-mum" naked, seeing her clothed was frightening enough, that I never dared enter their bedroom at night {or ever, really, to be honest, they were frightening any time of day, naked or not}. So I've never been scarred by seeing my parents have sex. Thank goodness. Yet, I almost, potentially maybe, scarred B.

I suppose I could look at it this way -- 6 years of having a child and having regular sex with my Husband and this is the first case of this happening. There's a bright side. Maybe. But, now, I'm so worried about it happening again that I'm not sure I can have fun sex again. Maybe I'll be doomed to a marriage full of boring sex. Never again will I find joy in blow jobs. Maybe I'll have to retire my vibrator and use my scarves for their original purpose. Maybe, and boy is this one tough to say, I'll never be spanked again. 


on healthy eating

I need to be a real dick for a second and complain about something stupid -- comments on what I eat, particularly on "how healthy" my breakfast/lunch/dinner/snack is. It infuriates me when people do this. I can't help myself. I know that they are just making conversation. I know they're not being rude and I know I need to get the fuck over it but I can't.

Here's the thing -- I love food. All the food. Ok, well, most of the food {pineapple on pizza should not be a thing}. I love eating {if you've seen me that much is clear} but I don't define food in terms of "good" and "bad". When I eat my regular lunch of carrot sticks {with the addition of capsicum sticks if I'm really hungry} I don't think to myself that I'm being healthy or good. I'm just eating what I love and, man, do I love carrot sticks. So when I'm eating a salad and somebody tells me how "good I am" and how they need to try harder to be healthy "like me" I get really annoyed. Because I'm not eating a salad to be good. I'm eating it because it's fucking delicious. End of story.

Steamed chicken and veggies may happen to be one of my most favourite meals in the world and I may favour brown rice and quinoa over white. I'm not really all that into bread and when I do get a hankering for it it's always loaded with seeds. I adore fruit and could happily eat berries every day of my life. A day without carrot sticks feels like a day wasted. I actually love drinking water. But... and this is a huge but...

I also eat chocolate for breakfast. And I'd rather skip dinner and go straight to dessert. I don't see this as "bad". I just see it as what I feel like eating. And here's the thing I eat what I feel like whenever I feel like it. The majority of the time that just so happens to be carrot sticks and fruit. But when I crave pasta or pizza, chocolate or lollies, salt & vinegar chips or Doritos, I eat them and I never feel guilty for it. Because it's just food. Because I don't see cookies as inherently bad for me and I don't feel proud or accomplished because I enjoy carrot sticks and kale juice.  

I know I'm being entirely grinch-y here and people aren't commenting on how "good" I am to be unkind but, ugh, it bugs me. I used to view food as "good" and "bad" and I used to beat myself up about what I ate and, so, I ate barely anything. I used to take painkillers to kill hunger pains and I thought I was so hideously fat that I hated myself. And then, my then boyfriend {now Husband} got frustrated at my bad habits {and then proceeded to buy me a pot plant to apologise for the outburst which I kind-of accidentally killed a week later} and I started eating more. I started enjoying food and enjoying life. And, sure, I put on a heck of a lot of weight and for a time there I had no idea about portions but I was happy and I actually liked my body with the extra weight on.

And pregnant I enjoyed my body. And ate a heck of a lot of hot chips.

And after birth I enjoyed my body. And ate, maybe, some more hot chips.

And now I enjoy my body and I still enjoy hot chips. I just happen to like carrot sticks more.  

So can we stop defining food as either "good" and "bad"? Because it's really fucking annoying.


friday five|movies i love

Husband and I have been on a bit of a movie kick lately, favouring films over trying to get through the new season of Orange is the New Black {all that rage -- I just can't do it}. Here's some current favourites --

The Brass Teapot -- I think we first happened upon this when Foxtel was still a thing. The premise sounds ridiculous, and it is, but it's also really good. So there's a teapot that spews out money when it's around pain and the movie follows the lengths people will go to for cash. It's weird, funny and, ultimately, sweet.

Horns -- because I love me some Daniel Radcliffe and, apparently, Husband and I are somewhat obsessed with Juno Temple. Based on the weirdest concept -- growing horns that lead everyone around you to become brutally honest so you can find the person who killed the love of your life -- with an entirely obvious killer, wonderful soundtrack and really fucking creepy ending. It's a great film, funny and fabulously weird.

Boss Baby -- so, when, B. saw a trailer for this my stupid helicopter instincts kicked in and I decided this was entirely inappropriate. Except I kept seeing funny moments from the film and hearing all kinds of wonderful things and, so, one Sunday we rented a copy and curled up into bed, the three of us, with snacks and watched. It was funny, sweet and adorable and the ending felt so perfect for our little family that I just want to watch it again and again.

Jawbreaker -- I loved this as a teen but hadn't watched it in so long. And, apparently, it's one of those movies that are hard to come across when you get the itch to watch. It's hilarious, ridiculous and fabulous. It's also still the only reason I haven't touched a jawbreaker in years. 

The Princess Diaries -- except I still can't decide if I like the first or second one better. Julie Andrews. I don't need to say anything more than that.


that married life|free pass

It's become a thing now where Husband and I will randomly say a famous persons name with no other context involved. Because we're married and can, annoyingly, oftentimes, finish each others sentences we know exactly to what the name is referring -- somebody we want to bang. Our free pass list because, sure... We've been at it for months and there seems to be no sign of the list making halting. Of course, we are completely aware that none of the banging will ever take place but, still, it's rather fun isn't it? My to-do list --

Denzel Washington

Dustin Hoffman

Daniel Radcliffe {but only as Harry Potter}

Tom Selleck {but only as Richard in Friends}

Tom Hanks {or I could marry him, whatever...}

Colin Hanks {if Tom's not available}

Nigella Lawson

Hugh Grant {just for the accent}

Colin Firth {for the accent and face}

Liam Neeson {but only if he's really angry}

David Tennant {ditto on the anger}

Seth Meyers {all day every day but I'd really love it if he could say "and now, for a closer look" as he gets naked}.