In brief

On Monday I went to my Dad and stepmother’s for a mini-break with the boys.

Last time I went I just loaded their internet connection and off we went.

This time, after several hours, there was no way their system was going to let my system play.

Bastard.

And then the mini-break turned into five days.

It was great! It’s not like we did anything exotic but you know, living the day-to-day somewhere else is always refreshing.

It did, however, bring swift short shrift to my dalliance with doing the 365 blogging thing.

Hah. What a joke. Lasted all of THREE days.

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There were further family ‘issues’ in the middle  of it with mum but after many tears that was eradicated.

In a nutshell, she has reached the point where she simply does not want anything to do with my father. At all. Ever again.

My reaction to this has been mixed – featuring a smattering of empathy and understanding with a fair swig of bewilderment and confusion (we have lived in the same house for 10 years and for the better part of the last 8 my Dad and stepmother have come here for the boys’ birthdays etc when mum has also been present) and – admittedly – a few heaving spoonfuls of ‘fucking get over it’.

Then, in my brief interlude back into the city on Wednesday to see my shrink, my mind was cleared. My psychiatrist explained to me that certain events and experiences put down a level/foundation/bed of pain and damage in a person that it is fair, reasonable and possible they might never recover from. And that is OK.

Furthermore, he is of the professional opinion and advice that when a person does/says things within particular categories to you, you have full and total permission to never ever let that person back into your life.

The other people who are impacted by that just basically have to man up, make adjustments and allowances and respect that position.

I am not going into the whole sordid history of my parents – it is neither my place nor my desire to do so. But let’s just say Mum is sitting firmly in both these camps.

Cue immense guilt for what she has done over the last decade to make it easier for me blahdeblahblabhblah. Don’t worry, I’m not dwelling on it, that was as much her choice as it was my desire.

It’s been quite revelationary actually.

My heart is also heavy with just how I am now going to ‘manage’ four children’s birthday parties and various other gatherings but so be it. Say la vie as some would say.

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Meanwhile, Grover still appears to have nits, I suspect Jasper does too and after a new treatment program tonight (the proper one from my legend hairdresser) I know that Oscar and Felix both had one tiny louse each and an egg each. Awesome.

Tomorrow I will tackle the little fellas, it was too late and they were beyond it tonight.

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The car had to be registered today. Holy crap what a delightful way to haemorrhage even more money. Sheesh.

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Yesterday I was out at the pool with the boys and when i returned indoors saw several missed calls from Chef. I kinda knew what it was about.

When he answered he said, ‘So, would you like to speak to the new Head Chef of Danks St Depot‘.

OH YES HE IS.

So very proud and so very happy for him.

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I am going to say this out loud and totally jinx myself, but these holidays are flying by. Can you believe we’ve only got three weeks left? That three weeks have already been? I am now a firm advocate for going to the beach to swallow whole chunks of time. For FREE!

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NOW, something important.

I am about to launch Team Oscar: helping one boy be the best he can be

The goal:

To raise the funds(approx $4,800) for Oscar to attend the incredibly awesome special needs high school St Edmund’s.

The plan:

1. 10kms in 10 weeks.
At the end of last year I went from sitting on my increasingly lardy arse to running for 30 minutes and losing 6 kilos in 9 weeks. So – now I’m setting myself the goal of running from half an hour to running 10kms in 10 weeks. (obviously wanting to lose more weight as well but my focus here is the 10kms.) You can all take bets sponsor me. You’re welcome.

2. Buy the t-shirt.
It’ll have something like Team Oscar on the front and helping one boy be the best he can be on the back, with my blog address because I’m a publicity whore I want people to do the curiosity-click and then donate money.

They will probably be purple w/ white writing – or maybe black with purple writing. Purple is, as many of you know, Oscar’s favourite colour.

Just be grateful it won’t feature an iron-on transfer of some WWE wrestlers on it.

Anyone know of a good t-shirt manufacture for such shenanigans I would be grateful for the lead/intro.

3. Online auction
This is where I’m going to need some help – I have no idea how to run such a thing or what to auction (some of you – Corrie I’m looking at you) have already offered to donate items but really, I still have no idea how to run such a thing.

aaand – that’s it so far.

I’d love your thoughts and ideas for other ways we can get our boy (and keep him there) to St Eddie’s.

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And listen, while we’re talking about fundraising, one of the lovely blogging ladies I follow here in Australia is undergoing immense strain and trauma at the moment with her husband in intensive care and the situation looking anything other than grim. The Aussie Mum Bloggers have stepped up and are raising some funds to help her through the next few weeks.

Donate over at Glowless while I try and make the widget work for me here.

Just shocking.

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Ummm, I think that’s it so far. Anyone still with me?

Onward!