Tasmiya

Saturday

- early morning dramas as usual

- work - usual dramas

- home late (as usual)

- house DEAD quiet

- kid’s sleeping over at Mum’s!

- talk about the children for the rest of the night

- bed by 8:30 (we are such party animals)

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Sunday

- enjoy waking up at own leisure

- wonder what the children would be up to

- hope they didn’t wake up Mum too early

- eat breakfast IN FRONT OF COMPUTER!

- watch a movie

- clean the house with the luxury of not having someone behind messing up what was tidied

- wonder what the children are up to

- shower very late in the day

- have lunch

- wonder what children are up to

- pick children up

- eldest helps out in the garden while younger ones have a kip

- supper

- bed

- fin

Voices in Tasmiya’s head : F**k me! Bu**er off you FAT sh*t! This is f**king appalling. Disgusting. This food tastes like sh*t. F**KING HELL! You f**king TW*T!

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Tasmiya : The fridge repair guy was so polite, wasn’t he? He was talking to the children and explaining what he was doing.

Farhad : He sort of looked like those guys in the 50’s - the way he spoke, his hairdo, the way he dressed. He was very clean and prim and proper - organised and neat.

(pause)

Tasmiya and Farhad (in unison): He’s a serial killer!

*Sigh*.

I lament the demise of the midday nap. This is a sad day in my parenting life and I am sure parents all over the world will empathise. 2 year old has decided he does not need the middle of the day nap which means he will continue his whining and demanding for 13 hours STRAIGHT. No respite or relief for poor 4 year old and me during the day and 7 year old and husband will have to deal with it in the afternoon and evenings. I am in for a month or so (oh dear God let it ONLY be a couple of weeks) of bouts of narcolepsy, terrible tantrums come 5 o’clock and at dinner time, inappetance and general grumpiness which the poor family will need to just suck it up and deal. AND THAT IS JUST ME, PEOPLE! Lord knows what the 2 year old will dish out.

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We finally got a gardener to come and fix up the garden. Of course we are green thumbs and horticulturists and landscape artists - it’s just that we don’t have the time and I am lazy and I hate getting my hands dirty. The garden actually looks decent alhamdulillah. I’ve had to call over 10 different people, 5 of whom said straight out they were too busy or did not work in this area. The other 5 however got my details, asked what I needed done, organised a time for a quote and then DID NOT SHOW UP. What is going on? Do they take a drive through the neighbourhood, assume we are povos with no money (which isn’t that far from the truth - that dishwasher cost a fortune) and then leave quietly. Do they take one look at the yard, realise it’s beyond repair and beat a hasty retreat? Even if they are busy and yes I can completely understand that people are busy and alhamdulillah they have work now that the rains have come but if you can’t make your appointment then ring to cancel or reschedule! It isn’t that difficult. Plus remember - one day you will enrage a woman who has the memory of an ELEPHANT when it comes to being wronged and she will warn others never to accept your gardening services EVER EVER AGAIN BECAUSE YOU NEVER HAD THE DECENCY TO CALL BACK OR PITCH UP FOR YOUR APPOINTMENT, GRAHAM and RAHEEM (I think this is a Muslim man, because his surname sounds eerily familiar and if this is the case then SHAME ON YOU TWICE!) and SHANE and JIM and JAMES.

And I don’t want to sound like I’m threatening you guys or anything but - I have your number. And I know where you live.

I may take it upon myself to NOT CALL you. Or better yet NOT TURN UP AT YOUR PLACE AND REARRANGE YOUR GARDEN FOR YOU.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

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And now that I’ve finished whinging, let me tell you about my wonderful children. 4 year old will always open the boot for me and 7 year old proceeds to fold up the pram and put it securely in the boot while I am busy strapping in the 2 year old. These are my little angels.

Oh my gosh three posts in a day. I am ON FIRE!

I think everyone has a wierd person who lives on their street. We have a hoarder (not confirmed but deduced from the numbers of boxes and bottles sitting outside her front door for over 4 years.) A wierd man who walks around his front yard without a shirt or shoes and proceeds to mow his lawn. I’m not a gawker and I don’t check men out but really and I say this with only love and deep concern for his safety and wellbeing - this man should not be shirtless. Ever. He needs to wear his shirt in the shower. In the bath. All the time. He shouldn’t even take it off to change shirts. He should hose himself down (with the shirt on of course) and hang himself to dry.

Back to our hoarder. She’s a blonde blue eyed old lady called Sharon* I see her walking down the street with loads of plastic bags searching in nearby bins. She takes what she needs and carries on walking. I caught her moving half a tree down the street and promptly placing it in our wheelie bin..until she saw me and then took the offending tree out and and placed it in the bin across the street. Maybe she isn’t a hoarder if she’s throwing stuff out. Maybe she’s cured.

To digress here a minute, I really have no idea what the etiquette is when one has so much rubbish and one’s bin is full up. I don’t see the problem with anyone putting stuff in my bin (unless it’s a dismembered body or any dead creature even if it’s whole) although I would hope in general that if someone is thinking of putting their junk in someone else’s bin (not a euphemism) they would be asking first.

The other day, she was taking a leisurely stroll down the street and as I waved my hello she smiled and waved back and picked up my local newspaper, took off the plastic cover and the rubber band, carefully replaced my newspaper on the ground and kept walking. She did the same to the neigbour’s houses. All along the street. The people next door came home to a soggy paper! I didn’t know what to say.

Then there was the mysterious good Samaritan putting everyone’s recycling bin out. The whole street’s recycling bins were placed neatly awaiting the rubbish collection van. It wasn’t even RECYCLING DAY. I am sure the culprit is Sharon. She has thing for rubbish.

*Patently a lie as I don’t wish for her to come and kill me in my sleep one day

We seem to go through phases where weekends with the family are just a disaster. The children are disrespectful, fighting and prime stars of SuperNanny special -You’ve never seen kids acting like THIS before. Tune in and see how she sorts them out and you can laugh at their dysfunctional and incompetent parents and be smug in the knowledge that YOUR children would never act this way!

As it happens this weekend started out as one of them but I was determined that wasn’t going to spoil my family time. You know the deal - WE ARE GOING TO HAVE FUN WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT!

Saturday started off wonderfully, with an extra vet at work which meant I could leave early. As Murphy’s Law would have it we only have an extra vet rostered on when it’s deathly quiet as opposed to a madhouse when we could do with an extra pair of veterinary hands.

Home to a very surprised family. They were on their way out so of course after a quick shower/change/salah we were out the door. So the children whinged and carried on. Home again. Whinging.

More whinging.

Followed by fighting.

After supper, we braved Southbank for ice cream. I do not know what possessed us to take the misbehaving children out in PUBLIC. The children were indeed wonderful. They loved walking along the man-made beach and watching a gentleman making intricate sand castles. They tried lemon sorbet and shared their ice cream with each other. On the way home just off the freeway, we blew a tyre! Husband pwnd! that spare. He finished changing the tyre in about 10 minutes. The moment he got back in the car the rain started pelting down. Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillah we didn’t get the flat while we were on the freeway and travelling a gazillion miles an hour. Alhamdulillah my husband finished just before the rain.

I judge my day by how quickly my children fall asleep at night. Alhamdulillah all three were fast asleep by the time we arrived home.

Sunday was a leisurely breakfast, pancakes with strawberries and cream, maple syrup and much sugary goodness (my favourite breakfast). We were invited for a barbecue and the children were mashaAllah little angels. They had a swim and ate well. The afternoon was then spent at Bunnings - we have a lot to fix up in this house and while husband is a dab hand at changing tyres, none of us is very handy in the home. We usually go there with aspirations of a complete DIY renovation and then return despondent because we really have no idea where to start.

So that’s pretty much our weekend in a nutshell.

Number of tissue boxes used up this weekend: 4

Number of times husband was vomited on: 2

Number of times Tasmiya was vomited on: 1 (HA! I win!)

Number of sick children: 3

Millilitres of panadol (tylenol) syrup given to sick children: approx. 50

Number of times needed to break up cat fight between rival felines: Approx 12

Number of times needed to console frightened two year old for above: Approx 13

Number of times nebuliser used: 3

Number of times “Please cover your hands when you cough!” was uttered: Infinity

Number of times above was ignored: Infinity

Number of ears infected: 2

Number of visits from concerned family members: 3 (I love my family!)

Number of times my sisters brought us food: 3 (I love my family!)

I swore that after my Wudsie passed away, we would never ever get another cat. Ever. Never. Ever. It was painful seeing my little Wudsie grow skinnier and stop eating and then see him become so depressed and then having to deal with feelings of complete helplessness. I could not do anything to save him.

After we buried Wudsie, my 2 year old began doting on the other cat, Adam. Adam is not a people cat. He is just a “Tasmiya” cat. He does not take kindly to strangers and I can safely say he hates children. He resisted all attempts at friendship but my son was stubborn and tried constantly to show affection and love. Adam was sitting in the lounge one day and my 2 year old went over to give him a hug and a kiss, “Aban are you ok?” he asked in his sweet baby voice. All that answered him was an angry hiss and a scratch on his sweet little hand.

I worked at the clinic over the weekend and saw a beautiful stray ginger tabby. He was soft, so affectionate and best of all, when he played he was as gentle as a lamb - no claws! He reminded me a little of Wudsie. So guess what?

We are proud owners of a new cat.

We’re all at a loss as to what name to give him. He’s ginger so of course we can opt for the traditional Ginger, Gingey, Garfield, Megs etc. but I’d really like something original. 7 year old is happy with “Ginger” and 2 year old is calling him the “new cat.” 4 year old has come up with the most original so far and I am scared to admit the name is growing on us:

MeatNoodlesFur

We may just shorten it to “Noodles” or even “Meat.”

Woohoo just about sums up my life at the moment. In no particular order, here are a few of the things I am loving at the moment:

1. NeglectingHousework
2. Gym
3. My children - noisy and tantrumy and angry and moody that they’ve been
4. Cooking
5. Christmas cheer (I know - haraam and all that but still - everyone is just so gosh darn NICE this time of year)
6. Swimming (which is really just holding the 2 year old while he kicks in the water and watching from afar my 4 and 7 year old paddling and kicking in the classes next door)
7. This new theme - thanks to husband for uploading and putting the buttons at the bottom

So yeah. Alhamdulillah everything is going swimmingly (HA!).