Month: August 2010

In which I get something off my more than ample chest

Several weeks ago a large advertising firm called for submissions from bloggers interested in doing some work. I didn’t hear anything and was formulating all manner of funny open letter style posts last week until I got back from Craft Camp to discover the force that is Not Drowning, Mothering had not only done so but done so with such skill McCann emailed everyone to let them know where they were at.

I tried to write a witty little reply but instead believe I either came across totally manic (tick), desperate (tick) or baying for public adulation (guilty as charged). Awesome work Kim, jog.it.in.

The initial call-out had something in it about looking for people who might tell a story but are able to draw a conclusion for it, are capable of offering advice from their experience or something in that realm.

And that’s where I kind of come undone.

I basically constantly fret that people drop in here for the rubber-necker in all of us. You know, the ‘oooh, a I wonder what fresh hell has befallen allconsuming’s lot this week’ and yes yes, I know I have voiced this before and those of you that do comment left lovely comments saying that was certainly not the case. Bless your cotton socks.

Then I read a blog who got quite.the.press.junket trip from a major food and beverage company and when she quizzed them as to why her, was told it was because her blog was so positive and upbeat.

Well fuck me.

I don’t do radiance and light. I do life. I do kids, I do me and the many public humiliation situations I fall into, I do getting older, I do special needs, I do raising boys, I do food, I do learning how to sew and quilt and crochet (although granted I haven’t talked about my crafting antics for a while because hello, see all the rest).

But the reality is there’s seven people in this house so it is fairly likely some shit is going to be hitting a fan somewhere virtually every day.

I don’t try to make it read funny, just how I see it.

I just had the most awesome weekend away where there was so much talk about dicks, pelvic floors (or lack thereof), body fat and the threat of explosive diarrhoea my undies were basically permanently damp from the wee leaks from laughing so hard so long.

But I’ve come back to a household with a mother who was meant to be going overseas for six weeks (cue un-muted bedroom shenanigans and Chef possibly having his bed shark fed a little more often than the never it’s currently living on) now going into hospital for major major surgery.

So maybe I should say my blog is about the Japanese proverb: fall seven times, stand up eight.

This one time at craft camp

 

Hop on ladies, hop on.

Shitty, the shitter, vaginal probes and more!

The Shitty
So, Chef came off his bike on the bends of Spit Hill on Sunday morning at about 7.10am. He was on his way to work, there was oil all over the road, his (motor)bike hit the oil and over he went.

He’s got a massive bruised knee on his dodgy leg (of course), his (uninsured) bike slid across the road and collided with a mercedes coming the other way.

The first person to stop was a doctor who thought he was going to run over Chef. He didn’t. Bless him.

The second person to stop was a firey who called the fire brigade to come and clear up all the bits of Chef’s bike off the road and clean up the oil slick.

The third person to stop was a woman checking he was OK, by which time Chef was throwing his helmet at rockwalls such was his pissed-offed-ness at the turn of events.
*****
I found it deeply ironic that earlier in the week I, the one who never wins anything, won tickets to see the new Thomas the Effing Engine movie. So, as a special treat for the two little fellas I had arranged care for the bigger boys and was taking them in to Fox Studios to see this fine display of rampant consumerism. (I can’t help thinking just how appalled the Rev W Awry would be at how his puritanical didactic tales of punishment for anyone not doing what they are told has been corrupted.)

How convenient this was happening the morning of the bike disaster. So we collected Chef from the side of the road (stinking like oil), dropped him at work and then went on to the movie.

The best part, on seeing the Fat Controller introduce the movie Jasper turning to me, eyes as wide as saucers, saying, ‘he’s REAL’.

They of course loved it, scoring goodie bags with a Thomas DVD in it. OH GOODY. New Thomas DVDs.
I caught a few minutes of shut eye.

*****
The shitter

On Wednesday I went with Jasper’s kindy class on an excursion to the Opera House and Botanic Gardens. The director was regaling us with all the dos and don’ts of being a parent helper as well as the multitude of toilet stops. Oh how we all chuckled when she was telling us about the quick run back to the Opera House for the child needing to do a poo. There is always one child who will need to do a poo.

Guess who scored the shitter? Bless this little fellow’s socks, the need to empty his bowels occurred at the festy toilets in the Gardens and after quite some time, when all others were toileted and on their way to the bus, I enquired if he was finished. He swung open the door and said with all earnestness, ‘well you see, there is this problem. The toilet is very dirty and I’m trying to…’ trailing off as I saw first hand his efforts to deal with the dirty toilet by placing beautifully perforated pieces of toilet paper around the seat which then confoundedly kept falling onto the even filthier floor when he would try to sit on the seat. I kind of hissed at him to just get on the toilet and when the director enquired as to his progress, mouthing to me ‘poo?’ she came to my rescue, muttering under her breath, ‘there is always one’.

Anyway, it was an awesome day and I felt really blessed to witness the amazing kindy in action. Very few pre-schools now take their children on excursions these days due to the mammoth DOCS checklist they have to meet, throwing the chance for children to have amazing experiences into the too hard basket.

*****
A vaginal probe

So today Chef was jealous of an ultrasound probe. It’s been a long time between drinks for me and the white wand but today we met once again. Funny how I had not missed it once. It was all part of the exploration to determine what this weird burning sensation is on my right side. I am fairly convinced it’s referred pain from my lower back but my GP was fairly certain he had felt a lump when I coughed.

Anyway, two sonographers and much coughing and making my stomach protrude even further than it normally does there is no hernia. Not sure if there’s any issue with my ovaries but I could see the egg inside one of the follicles on my left ovary which will probably be the one to ovulate this month. Now there’s something to look forward to. It seems such a waste doesn’t it. That egg, sitting there, waiting for its little friend who will never ever arrive.

The good news is, there is no hernia. The CT scan may reveal something re the lower back but we’ll have to wait for the films for that tasty tidbit.

*****
More
Tomorrow I’m off to Craft Camp! I can hardly believe it. In fact, I don’t think I will until I’m standing at Melbourne airport completely under-dressed and freezing my arse off.

See you all next week.

Onward!

Citrus Beef Stir-fry

I’m always a bit reticent to post these sorts of recipes because I fear the cultural travesties I’m committing may send some into apoplexy, but DUDES, this is so so good. I initially lifted this from a blog with the best name ever, Crepes of Wrath and have just altered it slightly.

There’s a chicken version I’ll post soon too. Both of these dishes enter the hallowed halls of the rarefied family dinner loved by all.

Citrus Beef Stir-fry
via Crepes of Wrath

  • 1 kg beef (I use sirloin steak or the pre-cut stir-fry beef from our lovely butchers if it’s on special) sliced thinly (and you all know the trick to getting really thin slices it to cut the beef when it is semi-frozen?)
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/2 tsp ground black pepper
  • 1 egg
  • 1 tbsp vegetable oil
  • 1/4 cup plain  flour
  • 1/3 cup cornstarch
  • 2/3 cup oil, for cooking (now, I used this amount and next time would definitely only use half, if that)
  • 4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
  • 1-2 tsp sriracha or other chili garlic paste (I used Sambal Oelek)
  • 4 green onions, sliced
  • 1 tablespoon black vinegar (CoW used balsamic vinegar)
  • 3/4 tsp sesame oil
  • 5 tbsp soy sauce
  • 5 tbsp sugar
  • 1 tsp ground ginger (I used freshly grated)
  • 1/4 cup black vinegar
  • juice of 2 oranges (I used limes)
  • zest of 1 orange (again, I used limes)
  • 1/4 cup water (I used stock) mixed with 1 tbsp cornstarch
  1. Combine the beef with the egg, salt, pepper, flour, cornstarch and 1 tablespoon of oil – best do this with your hands to ensure it all gets well coated
  2. Heat the oil in a wok then add the beef, and cook over high heat until it’s getting a nice crisp to it.
  3. In a separate frypan cook the garlic, sriracha, green onions, 1 tablespoon of black vinegar and the sesame oil for about 5 minutes 
  4. Combine the soy, sugar, ginger, 1/4 cup black vinegar, orange (or lime) juice and zest and then add them to the frypan
  5. Keep tossing your beef so it’s nice and crispy
  6. Bring the sauce to a light boil then add the 1 tablespoon of cornstarch mixed with 1/4 cup of water. Heat everything until is starts to thicken, about 3-4 minutes
  7. Pour over the beef and toss to coat, then cook for another 3 or 4 minutes until the sauce is as thick as you’d like it to be. 
  8. Serve over rice with greens.

Winners are grinners

On Friday I had the most glorious day, which was good considering just how shite today was. The best part was Eleanor coming to visit. This had been arranged a week before and long before I decided to run a competition and even longer before I drew the winner and the winner was Eleanor. We were both worried everyone would think I rigged it but I promise I didn’t. I DIDN’T.

She came armed with bagels and a challah. I cared for her hips with The Banana Coconut Cake. It was a delicious few hours.

She ensured Jasper will love her forever by playing some bizarre poison ball game with him on the trampoline and learning the subtle nuances of a tickle tackle. Such is their mutual admiration, they shared their glasses with each other:

Eleanor’s holding her loot here – a jar of Strawberry Rhubarb jam and a jar of Quince Relish.

And how hard is Jasper rockin’ those specs of Eleanor’s!

Winners all round.