Archive | May 2012

Drinking & dieting…oh & potty training

Well, I’ve been thinking lately about going on some sort of health kick, like everyone else I know here in Hong Kong. There are so many annoying people jogging past me in the morning with those straps attached to their arms so they can listen to music, that it really bugs me. Especially as I’m in my car, eating a burger and screaming at the kids.

So… I decided, maybe quit drinking, eating crap and start exercising more just to try and reduce the impact all the years of drinking and partying have had on my skin and body.  I must stress that I’ve only been thinking about this…not actually doing it.  Yes I recently went to my first Pilates class after 7 months of zero exercise.  As a result, I almost fell off the Reformer (Pilates machine that looks like a torture rack) and was knackered within 10 minutes.  My whole body is now rigid with pain and I can’t bend over without moaning as my legs are friggin killing me.  I’ve literally rubbed Aloe Vera (good for sprains) all over my body…. and yet still… I am in agony.  A word to the wise… never let Aloe Vera touch your private parts unless you are prepared for a freezing cold and painful shock.

Anyhow, back to dieting.  Some people (actually A LOT of people), here in Hong Kong, have been doing the PCP diet AKA http://thepeakconditionproject.com/ which is a 90 day (YES NINETY) diet and health plan, that will make you lose weight.  During these 90 days, you have to work out daily, eat right (customized weekly diet) and generally be a miserable, boring git who can’t go out for a meal with friends.

Now in my opinion, after, 90 days, anyone could bloody lose weight if they worked out continuously (I mean, not just lie about it, actually do it) and eat a well balanced diet.  Also, of course you are going to start looking better because (a) you are not going out drinking, which leads to (b) going to bed at a reasonable hour and not carry on partying until 5am.  You’re getting your beauty sleep, dieting and not drinking alcohol.  How they are doing this diet is beyond me, but loads of people have done it and lost a shit load of weight.

After giving it a good long think about, I’ve decided… nope.  Not for me.  Daily workouts? Err…. when?  If I haven’t slept properly the night before because one of the kids isn’t well, where are I supposed to summon the energy for a gym workout?!  Plus gyms are so boring.  The minute I get in there, I want to leave.  Everyone always looks so smug in there too. Running on their machines, listening to their IPods, getting all toned and skinny.  Plus lets face it Mums/Dads… If I don’t get a good nights sleep, I cant function at all. I’m never going to sleep well again until all my kids leave home …. or end up in Prison.

As for not drinking for 90 WHOLE days/nights.  This is tres impossible for me.  I have tried to go for 5 WHOLE days without a drink recently… taking one day at a time and all of that stuff Alcoholic Anonymous spouts, but the truth is this.  IF one of the kids upsets me, or I’ve had a shitty day… where do I go?  Medicine cabinet for headache tablets? No.  Do I ring a friend or The Captain to complain? No.  I open the wine fridge and decide which bottle of wine I’m going to have while I vow to only drink 2 glasses (don’t EVER open the expensive one though… it’s not worth it for a bad day’s drink).  TWO bottles later… I’m happy and tired and called a number of people.  By the way, NEVER EVER DRINK & DIAL.  You will not recall the conversation and will usually get a concerned text or email from someone the next day, asking if you’re ok.  I’ve had this happen on a number of occasions and am thinking “Huh? I feel great?! What are they going on about? When did I call them?!” 

That’s another thing I’ve been experiencing lately…. severe memory loss.  According to our Doctor, its due to stress (thank fuck she didn’t say alcohol…. I’d be devastated). Therefore recently, the Captain and I will have done something and I will have no recollection of it. Zilch.  We apparently watched a Grey’s Anatomy (I’m into it big time) and the following night, I couldn’t understand why we had missed 2 whole episodes.  The Captain explained that we had in fact watched them and thought I was joking every time I asked questions about it.  It’s a good thing I haven’t forgotten having sex (yet), or the kids when it comes to picking them up from school.

So…. I’m also trying my hardest to potty train these cheeky monkies.  It’s just not happening.  They wait for approx 1 hour and after their poor little bums have turned red, sat on a potty (that sings & congratulates you when you do a shit) I think “let them go…its not happening”  I’m a bad woman for forcing them….and what do they do?  They do a massive poo in their nappy.  I feel like a failure.  I have demonstrated myself sat on the “big potty” (the shame as I’ve got shocking reactions to doing a poo), and yet…nothing is appearing in the potty.  My Mum (AKA… God), told me, “leave them with me for 3 days and they will be trained”.  She cracked after a day stating “your kids don’t listen to a word… whats wrong with them?”   Err… whats wrong with them? They belong to me… therefore are defiant and a pain in the arse.  I’m so proud.

Soooooo… at school, there are these very annoying people with their kids all “trained” and my two are, well, so NOT. I don’t care.  I peed the bed until I was around 5. Apparenlty it was due to stress… yes, at FIVE YEARS OLD.

How are you all getting on with this potty business? Especially with twins?  I dont want to push them…apparently it makes it worse and they will get stressed. So… now… slip a small shot of whisky in their milk and see what happens (joke obviously…childcare services HK).

As a parent… recently… I just feel like I keep failing. I feel guilty for shouting (more at myself than anyone else), I’m tired and can’t function, and therefore, I feel like, after IVF, I’m a bit of a crappy alcoholic letdown.  I thought I was going to be a good one… not some tired, exhausted Mum… the one I vowed never to be.   I love those monkies… so why am I so angry?  Here I am though… angry and exhausted.  Poor them.  Poor me…?

As for the diet… screw it…. I’m doing a new one.  The HK Wino diet. Yep… alcohol and no food.  I can hear it now…. all those websites defending teenagers screaming “why support drinking”?!  Stop setting a bad example”.

Firstly, they shouldn’t be on this site and secondly…. “because I Like it. Fuck off”.

The Terrible Horrendous Twos (and I ain’t talking shit)

So for all you lovely Mums out there, secretly binge drinking on white wine in the afternoon (or Vodka which doesn’t smell), how many of you are experiencing the crazy, horrific “terrible twos”?  No, I don’t mean after a night at the local curry house when you  shit all day, I mean ….. your kids.

* Photo above are essentials needed for a “stay-at-home-Mum”.  The horrid coloured diaper is an “organic non-chemical” nappy but it looks very weird and a little too brown for my liking (almost like an envelope or something you see in The Victoria & Albert Museum from the days of  Henry 111V (the eight?!).

Back to the story… so… my twins are now in the middle of what seems like a constant joke, at my expense.  They now tell me “NO!!!” (WTF?!) when they don’t want something, they try to dress themselves (this has included some HIDEOUS outfits that I can’t prise off them), turning their cups of water upside down just to see the mess it makes, and generally not listening to one fucking word we say. And smirking in my face too.

It takes A LOT of strength not to lose it with them, especially when we’re out in public and they know you’re more vulnerable and unlikely to scream your head off (or so they thought).  My Son (Satan) recently decided he didn’t want to go down to our Clubhouse playroom (yes dahlings, we have a “Clubhouse” in our apartment block). So when he arrived downstairs in the lobby area with our sweet Helper and twin sister, he lay down on the floor, took his shoes off and wouldn’t move.  Our Nanny (the ones who’s good with kids but almost burnt our house down) has NO ability to tell my kids off. None.   They don’t listen to a word she says.  So my son knows that the minute he leaves the house without me, he’s freeeee!

Well, I got my arse into the lift after our nanny called me from the lobby and while his twin sister (the angel) looked on, I walked out of the lift (still in slippers and probably holding a rolling-pin for effect) and holler, just like my Mum would have done to me “GET UP NOW!!!!!” I think they may have heard me shouting a few roads away.  The Chinese, I’ve noted, don’t do this.  Therefore my reaction in front of a group of Mums was probably “shocking”.  Give a shit? Nope.  My son jumped to his feet in a split second and got his arse into the lift.  I didn’t utter a word to him but marched him back to our apartment and gave him “time-out” for 5 minutes (2 minutes on my Son just isn’t enough but in their world, it may as well be hours).  He has never done that again. Tiger Mum? Nope.  Angry, show-some friggin respect Mum…thats me!

My Daughter recently took all her clothes off during her lunch time nap, and on discovering a full nappy (with sticky poo), decided it was better to throw it all out of her cot.  On walking into her room, all you could see was my naked 2-year-old saying “Oh my Goodness” as I looked at the shit, EVERYWHERE.  Her brother did this to me a year ago and that resulted in me celotaping his nappy on. Well, that’s exactly what I did to my daughter.  What happened the following morning? She had managed to get her taped nappy off and did a MASSIVE shit in her cot, smearing any remnants onto the walls, her favourite Cuskie and in her hair.  I of course, was flabbergasted and called our nanny right away to clear the shit up (hey, I’d puke with all that crap).  She’s got balls though as she’s not scared of anyone.

Is it any wonder us Mums need to drink?! Our husbands just don’t get it…..although on our recent short break, without help may I add, it was The Captain who swiftly ordered a large glass of wine before midday “to take the edge off”.  Of course the minute he ordered a glass, I decided, “hey, why not just order a bottle and leave the kids for a few more hours?!”  He frowns on that sort of behaviour though and made me feel like a guilty alcoholic (is there any other type?)….which I’m not, unless it’s the weekend, or 6pm “Mums O’Clock” ie. wine, unless I’ve had a particularly bad day, in which case, drinking may start a little earlier …. not breakfast though, unless it’s a Bloody Mary… which doesn’t really count.

Anyhow, the kids are playing up, therefore I’m feeling angry all the time. And, when I see a couple without kids who are all smiles and lovey dovey (they haven’t got a fucking clue)…. I feel the urge to punch them in the face.  They have no idea.  I was like that until the kids destroyed my body, taught me unconditional love (yeh, yeh ok) and now, I’m too tired to even stay up past midnight when I hit the town.  I just hope they go to University, put me in a decent old people’s home (if the Captain can join me, that would be great), and just show some fucking respect.  I have zilch tolerance…and when its other people kid’s…. fuck you don’t wanna be around me then. I don’t like other people kids.  Yep, I said it. I’m not going to pretend.  I don’t like other peoples kids (I can barely tolerate my own when they misbehave) so WHY oh WHY would I gush over yours?!!!  If I didn’t have kids, you wouldn’t expect me to adore yours, so why, now I have children, am I expected to like your kids. I don’t.

They annoy me. YES…. I said it.

Organic Oat & Raisin Cookies

Oat & Raisin Cookies are delicious and if you go organic, you don’t feel as guilty when handing them out to the kids!  I made these last year for the first time and after discovering how NOT to make them, this recipe is super easy and everyone will be friggin impressed.  I dropped a batch off to our new neighbours all tied up in bows and clear wrap and they thought I’d bought the damn things.  If there’s one thing I enjoy its cooking…. and drinking while I cook.  It kinda goes hand in hand!

Level for Skill

Any dumbass lazy person can make these cookies.  If not, get your kids to do it for you while you neck back that bottle of Vodka and harass the mailman.

Ingredients

  • 270g unsalted butter at room temperature (I tend to melt it in the microwave for 30 seconds to speed things up)
  • 160g caster sugar organic
  • 160g soft dark sugar organic
  • 2 organic eggs
  • 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla beans scooped out of a pod
  • 380g Organic plain flour
  • 1 teaspoon low sodium salt
  • 1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
  • 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon
  • 110g organic rolled oats
  • 220g organic raisins

Cooking

  • Preheat the oven to 170-180 degrees (it depends how strong your oven is).
  • Put the butter and sugars in a large bowl and mix either with a handheld electric mixer, or a freestanding one if you have it. Whisk until its creamy and fluffy.
  • Add the eggs one at a time and keep mixing everything.  Turn the speed on your mixer down to a slow speed and add the vanilla seeds.
  • Sift the flour, bicarbonate of soda, salt and cinnamon in a separate bowl, and then add the oats.  Mix everything well and then add the butter mix. Keep mixing and then stir in the raisins with a wooden spoon.
  • Prepare your baking trays by wiping some olive oil on a tissue and rubbing it all over the tray. Then sift (very lightly so you can barely see it) some flour.  I then line the tray with baking paper too because…I just do!
  • Arrange the cookie dough using a teaspoon for small cookies or use a soup spoon for large cookies.  Just be sure to leave a good gap between each as once the cookies spread, they will be a lot bigger!
  • Bake for approx 12-14 minutes until they are golden brown and firm but not burnt.  They can burn very easily so you need to keep watching them bake.  Always a good time to pour yourself a large glass of wine and stare at the oven!
  • Once cooked, remove from the oven and after a couple of minutes, let them cool down on a wire rack.

Good luck and enjoy!

They’re delicious and wont last more than 2 days tops.  The recipe above made approx 25 cookies.

Travelling again…

So recently we’ve had ALOT of change going on in our home. New baby, twins going to nursery for 3 hours (on their own) three times a week, me not drinking (as much) and generally….I feel like I’m back at square one here.

I’m not going out (blame new baby), not sleeping well (blame new baby), can’t get into any of my old clothes but maternity stuff makes me look like a fat lump (new baby’s fault too)… the list of stuff is endless. PLUS, I’m contending with difficult stuff at home (London) i.e.. a not so well parent kinda puts everything in your life into perspective.  This DOES NOT, however, stop me drinking which the Captain helpfully pointed out when the oven clock chimed 6pm and I ran to grab my daily “evening drink/medicine”.  Hey, the kids were practically in bed and story time is waaaay more fun when Mummy’s had a few drinks….plus I do accents to make the kids laugh!  And, if I pass out before then, well….I’ve got two nannies….who can read Filipino stories.

We decided the best thing to do with alllllll our recent stress was to go away for a long weekend with just the twins.  No help. Yes, you read that right. Not one nanny was in sight…. plus our hotel had a kids club and nanny service on hand which we abused fiercely.  I mean, we’re away on holiday for Christs sake! I need a frigging break from the monotony of my usual life back in HK.

I’m soooo bored of school runs to Tai Tam from one end of the Island to the other, playmates, endless Doctors appointments (the last one consisted of my daughter clinging to my leg while my Son screamed and I was trying to soothe our 8 week old while she got her jabs).  The nurse patted me on the back before throwing me out the surgery.  All those waiting Mums must have thought I was a local Gypsy with all my young, unruly kids, plus my hip flask of neat whisky was hanging loosely in my baby nappy bag next to the wipes for emergencies.  So a trip away was needed but I tend to break out in a cold sweat whenever the Captain suggests a holiday.  Theres just sooo much shit to organise whenever we go away and I’m getting fed up of walking around with a clip board and whistle ticking off everything from swim bands to enough travel toys to stop us going mad on the flight.

Baby number three didn’t have a passport until recently so she wasn’t coming with us.  Our Helper in Hong Kong (who I swear thinks this Child belongs to her, keeps telling me things like “oh she started smiling when you were away”….FUCK OFF).  As long as she doesn’t start calling her “Mum”, I don’t give a shit right now. Anyhow, as her passport hadn’t arrived, B3 had to remain in Hong Kong.  I was therefore mortified to discover the photos the Captain had managed to take with our Helper while I was away, for her first passport.  Thanks to the Captain holding Baby’s head up to capture the photo, his hands managed to stick her ears out in the process.  A LOT.  She now resembles a cuter version of Shrek in her first passport with a halo of light flooding in from behind her head which makes her ears simply look MASSIVE.   Baby number 3, AKA “Forgotten one/Dumbo”, we are so sorry.

baby shrek

Anyhow, The Captain and I took Itchy and Scratchy away for 4 long days to Malaysian Borneo, to a place called Kota Kinabalu (yes, seriously).  We stayed at the lovely Shangri La Rasa Ria Resort and had a wonderful room by the pool (Ocean Wing darling, not the cheaper Garden wing rooms).

So…. after arriving with the least amount of luggage ever (the twins now eat normal food, like pasta and err, pasta, and shit ALOT less than before), we arrived.  We left Hong Kong nearly 3 hours earlier, so I was pretty impressed. The flight over wasn’t even that painful.   I’d forgotten the all important drugs I use to knock the twins (and sometimes The Captain out) but it went ok.

Captain took our Son (Satan) who was actually being a little irritating by licking everything in sight (yes, his shoes too) until he finally passed out (we booked the flights to work with our Gina Ford routine).  Our daughter on the other hand was sat with me on the other side of the aisle and needed constant entertainment.  After giving her stickers (which had a book to stick them all in), she decided it was time to redecorate the entire cabin and there are now Princess stickers all over an Air Asia flight to Kota Kinabalu. I was friggin exhausted by the end of the flight and needed a drink to take the edge off (well, that or a Xanax).  She finally decided to fall asleep as we were landing so was not a happy bunny when I had to wake her and go through customs.

On arriving at our fabulous hotel 45 minutes later, The Shangri-La Rasa Ria, we were all greeted and taken to our amazing suite which had a huge marble bathtub outside our room on the terrace (we took a ground floor suite for safety reasons with 2 crazy liberal toddlers running around).  The toddlers travel cots were made and ready for use along with a toy for each child (Orangutan).

The staff all knew the kids names and the Captain had arranged for a babysitter (selfless fellow that he is) to watch the kids during their belated nap time while we lounged around the pool.  Me in a very unsexy “Mummy Marks & Spencer’s tummy taming swimsuit” and the Captain all toned and missing a baby belly pouch.  What is it with our C-section scar that causes this horrible skin to pop right over it like a bulge?  I used to have a stomach you could bounce coins off.  Now my tummy swallows those coins up and you never see them again (not for long. I’m heading back to Pilates next week).  The lunchtime menu and cocktail list was excellent and daily rose drinking (by The Captain I hasten to add) was essential to stop us being grouchy bastards.  I had strong double Cosmopolitans every time the kids went off for their naps.  Just because I felt like it.

Our time at the Shangri-La was lovely.  We ate well, slept well (bed by 9pm every night!), they had a great Kids Club, swam every day with the kids and went to the Orangutan Sanctuary.

A word to the wise … the Orangutan Sanctuary is not for kids aged 2 years or under, as you walk in 40 degree heat through a jungle (a short walk but still) to watch Orangutans eat their lunch.  Did they perform? Nope because they are meant to be wild.  Therefore the kids barely looked at them for more than a few minutes before my Son (Satan) decided to punch his Dad in the leg continuously and then scream and cry after the Game Keepers had told the entire group that this is when we are meant to be “very quiet”, so the orangutans would come out.

Sure we got a few stares from those annoying arseholes who act like they’ve never seen a child cry (or have really fucking annoying kids who are well-behaved & are usually ginger haired) but after 15 minutes (actually, it was more like 10), the Captain and I left.  Screaming at each other and pouring with sweat as we hot footed it down a path in a jungle carrying our now deliriously hot and crying toddlers back to five-star Shangri-La safety and back to the Kids Club right away.  So fun.

*Photo above of the Kids Club from inside.  This place was very well run and had a little farm outside with Goats, chickens, a play area etc.  The staff were all very well-trained too.  They also had a video room (photo below) for the kids and a different timetable every day with anything from arts and crafts to music.  Anyone under the age of 3 must be accompanied by an adult. So we lied and said the twins were 4 before dumping them and running to the bar (joke).  We actually used a wonderful Nanny who works for the hotel.  She was around 60 years old and had SIX kids at home.  She also could do CPR and deal with anything. So whenever we needed to be alone, in came our lovely Nanny to the rescue.

Anyhow, going back to the story with the Organutan Sanctury ….. Remind me not to do that ever again.

I can’ recall how many times I have specifically told the Captain to do a  site “recce”  before we go somewhere with the kids.  FYI “Recce basically means visiting a location to work out its suitability for the job in hand, including access to necessary facilities and assessment of any potential lighting or sound issues” (* quoted from Wikipedia).  Or in our case, issues relating to our twin toddlers!?  For instance, does a double buggy fit on these roads?  Will the kids like where we are going?  Can I feed them there?  Is it hot or cold?  Will I fucking hate the place?! You get the picture.  Know your audience for fucks sake.  I hate going to shows.  Therefore dont drag me along WITH our toddlers on a boat, train and bus to watch something that will bore us shitless after 2 minutes (I can barely stomach the adverts for Glee).

Men do not think for one second that maybe these issues are important, although mine is learning very quickly.

The Captain once took us on a “pleasant” walk up the road when we first moved to Repulse Bay, Hong Kong, which turned into a 1.5 hour walk with roads disappearing.  We have a twin Out n About buggy and were basically walking in winding roads on the South Side of HK where cars speed into you (the Taxi drivers here are also fucking nuts).  This walk also took place when we were dying with a hangover and the twins were thirsty (they were 8 months old) in 35 degree heat.

I asked The Captain if he had ever done this “pleasant” bullshit so-called 15 minute walk before and he confessed that some arse monkey at work had recommended it.  I asked if this idiot recommender (yes I’m aware it’s not a word) had a twin buggy?  He confessed that “no, he doesn’t have twins” and the guy who recommended this shitty walk had one 2-year-old child.  ONE child who is a toddler is very different to twins who were 8 months at the time.  This same arse monkey suggested to the Captain that we take the twins to the Orangutan sanctuary.  I told the Captain never ever to listen to this twat again.  He clearly has a very advanced child and as there is ONLY one child, its fucking easy between two adults (unless one of you is drunk or incarcerated).

Anyway, going back to the Hotel…. the beach was lovely as you can see from our photos above.  There were lots of sandflies though so make sure you cover up unless you want to develop bites the size of mine (I looked like the Elephant Mans wife by the end of our trip due to my severe allergic reaction to bites).

All the swimming pools were clean, not too cold (I hate that!!) and never felt crowded.  The grounds were beautiful and the restaurants (especially the Buffet meals where kids go free), was very good (I’m not a fan of eat all you want but this was great value!).

I must add, the flight back was fucking horrendous as the kids decided to go insane.  Not only did they climb over seats, cry non-stop, put stickers all over our allocated seats.  Besides all that…. the wouldn’t friggin sleep (which is why they were going mad).  And what did The Captain do during all of this mayhem?  He put his iPad on and started watching “Up All Night” (Christina Applegates new show….friggin hilarious).  It was at that point that I cracked, grabbed his iPad and put on Baby Einsteins which settled the kids very quickly.

Back soon as I’ve got a girls night planned and I’m hoping to get arrested for drunk and reckless behaviour…just like the good old days before I became responsible (ahem).

Strokes, family, life…

Yes yes yes….its been a while since I’ve moaned my not-so-skinny post-baby arse- off about something but here it goes…..

How many of you out there are having a SHIT time as I write??  And by SHIT I mean seriously “I can’t look at my partner for one more minute” SHIT??  I know people right now who are experiencing SHIT on a different level to ever before.  Is it because we are older??? Is it because of our growing age that things have become more shit and people we care about are becoming ill?! Whatever.  We are growing old. Fact.

Someone pour me some wine and lets chat about this shit now.  While I’m still wearing incontinence pants (with my Spanx) and can remember the year i gave birth to accidental number 3 (yeh she was an accident, so what?!)…8 weeks ago for anyone who gives a rats arse.

I have experienced THE most horrendous crap in the past 12 weeks that would ordinarily drive me to a rehab clinic …. eventually…because I also fucking love booze (alcohol for you non english readers).

I’m moaning (again), as I have just returned for London after spending 6 days and nights with my Dad. He has suffered a major stroke.  My cute, adorable, flirtatious (with the nurses) Dad, has lost his sight and short term memory.  They don’t even think this is the BIG ONE.  Therefore…another stroke is lurking somewhere.  In the meantime, I have been sat in St.Georges Hospital in Tooting, London, trying to work out who’s his favourite child .  He tells us all we are his “favourite” but when my brother sneaks off to ring his local loan shark, Dad leans in and tell me “Its always been you beautiful”. Just to break my heart.  How did life suddenly become so fucking real?

I’ve not only left my 2-year-old crazy twins behind in the land of HK, but also my newborn baby girl who is now starting to call our nanny “Mummy” (I’m sure).  Living abroad is great but when the shit hits the fan and you need to get home, quickly, its fucking horrible. I couldn’t just jump in my car and head  straight to the hospital.  No. I had to wait 24 hours for a free flight back home (Airmiles) that didn’t break the bank, so I could see my Dad.  He had a stroke.  And now, he can’t see and can barely hear.  His current state means, he’s confused, scared and wondering where he is.  He also asks all the time “Where are my wife & kids?”  We are there every day…..but his short-term memory has gone.  This is a man who used to party hard and owned a well know restaurant for celebs back in the 80’s and 90’s.

I know it seems my blog has turned into a site of doom and gloom recently and if anything, encourages people like me to moan my arse off and drink even more.  I am so fed up of being told to rein it in when I have a drink.  Or told that i “embarrassed myself” the night before after 15 bottles of White wine on Tesco Special (they don’t sell Tesco here btw). Whatever! People, friends and always family, I DONT GIVE A SHIT.  It has been one of those tough years where one must rise up, dust your maternity pants off, and start again.

Im so done with apologising for how I need to live my life to people who really don’t care about me.  I’m a fabulous mum, I  whip my domestic helpers arse non stop (legally of course) so that we are all doing our jobs properly and are happy with it. And I get on with them great too.  I’ve heard some HORRIFIC tales but this is not what this tale is about.

Today…I had an insight into the meaning of life.  It’s this (and listen closely)…..enjoy every fucking minute.

Don’t fight over the small immaterial things like laundry, shopping (I HATE shopping btw), messiness…etc. Do not sweat the small stuff. Live your life as if it were your last day.

No more complaining, no more fights over car journeys, lost kids backpacks,/shoes/suncream/washing/cleaning/tidying (everytime I leave the kids with the Captain, something goes missing!?)……lets just go for it Mums and Dads. Lets try and make this shit work.  After all…. this is what we always wanted right?  Family, fella, fucking…..kids?!

Sorry…..im clearly depressed but thank you for all your lovely messages & words of wisdom. Ive ignored them all and decided alcohol in the evening is better than any medicine.  Vodka ANYONE SW HK ISLAND?!!!  Email me and I am there…with bells on … and a Filipino driver I stole from some rich arsed wanker who lives on The Peak (posh expat area up in the hills of HK).

 

 

ps. Doesn’t the surgeon in the clipart above look like he’s rolling a spliff?