Humour Archives - Page 2 of 10

Confused Little Church Girl

August 29, 2013 By: mamagrace7123 Comments

Coming out of the good little church going girl, I caught wind of the glamour and mystery of the secular world when hitting high school.

Leaving out the drugs and the sex, I was only interested in the rock and roll.

Those classical piano lessons finally paid off when joining the high school rock band. Me and 4 guys, we were destined for fame and fortune…once our repertoire expanded from Men at Work and Joan Jetts and the Blackhearts.

We played for the high school musical and one concert on our own.

World domination can certainly wait. And it still does.

My first illegal drink was vodka and orange juice in a polystyrene cup. My head spun and danced, giddy with naughty excitement and the taste of liquor, which I secretly thought was too bitter for my innocent taste buds.

The first legal pub is now a renowned lesbian bar in Canberra called “Tilley’s”. The first bought legal drink being a Heinken and kept the bottle for years to come. It was my rite of passage.

Life was okay. Not that it was ever entirely terrible. I just wanted to make it like it was.

I was confined in the four walls of Canberra, desperate to get out, leave the religious realms of very strict Indonesian parents and taste real, adult life.

The intention was to quit Yr 12, 2 months before graduation.

Certainly had ambition, while the existence of intelligence and discipline was questionable.

“I want to see the world!” I cried in a heap for no other reason than just your usual pent up teenage angst and emotion.

“I’m going to work for a year selling dresses in Cue then go backpacking around Europe…”

Wild, crazy, irrational plans.

Instead, I crashed my parents car right off the road.

Sternly pointed back to my humbling place as a kid with no money and no control over my own life. I succumbed to the idea that university was only, yet long-term ticket out.

I smoked Benson and Hedges Extra Mild, never considering its dangers to my health. Just let me feel glamorous and important, dammit.

Too many times I dived into the murky waters of unrequited love.

Secretly leaving a Valentine’s Day card under the windscreen of my crush’s ute, the carefully handwritten words filled with desperate hope to have someone see me as beautiful. Not funny, cute or feisty. But just exquisitely beautiful.

Only now do I realize how bold yet pathetically stupid that gesture was.

Luckily, he’s a forgiving guy.

Meeting up many years later, he introduced me to his little boy, “This is Grace, she’s a really lovely lady…”

He smiled, meeting my eyes trying to assure me that the past had its own place and time.

Yes. Life as a directionless teenager has it’s own little unique box, filled with scraps of embarrassing, uncomfortable moments, revolutionary thoughts and deep, confusing emotions.

Joining Rachel of The Inappropriate Blog and The Lounge Lizards to talk about the teen years.

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Wordless Wednesday – The Crazy That Be City2Surf

August 14, 2013 By: mamagrace719 Comments

It’s my 4th year joining in Sydney’s biggest running event of the year.

This year though, there was no running (damn you, patella tendonitis) but instead, lots of walking.

Throughout the entire 14 kilometres and among the 85,000 participants, there was a LOT of entertainment and community spirit to keep me occupied.

A bit of monkey mayhem…

The mandatory Smurfs (Now I know where these blue creatures keep their mobiles handy…)

And even a smiley in the sky.

Linking up for Wordless Wednesday with the awesome Trish of My Little Drummer Boys who RAN the entire race…Go, girlfriend!

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Wordless Wednesday – The Latest Fashion Must-Have

July 10, 2013 By: mamagrace7121 Comments

Forget what you read in Vogue or Harper’s Bazaar.

Don’t bother turning to the likes of Victoria Beckham or any other celebrity fashion trend-setter.

You can find the latest fashion must-have at Sydney’s Paddy’s Market.

Yes, folks. It’s the many-of-a-kind ONESIE.

Depending on your mood, you can either be an Angry Bird or Tigger

And if you can’t decide, why not buy a whole wardrobe? Choose from an array of frogs, cows, zebras, even Pikachu. Even love hearts for those nights of Bow Chica Bow Wow.

And to answer your burning question…

Yes. People do actually wear them in public.

Joining Trish at My Little Drummer Boys at Wordless Wednesday

and

The Hello Kitty Onesie Wearing Wonder herself, Ai at Sakura Haruka

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Hell hath no fury like a toddler scorned

May 7, 2013 By: mamagrace7141 Comments

There’s nothing more frightening than witnessing a toddler tantrum.

Well, Madonna without make up might come close. Heh.

But seriously, despite the on-going hell raising incidents, does your head ever condition itself to stop pounding from the incessant screams?

For the most part, I’ve somewhat learned how to “cope”.

It’s realizing that they don’t understand why they’re going through it.

And for a little person who’s confused as to what’s going on in their head, they can sure as hell do a lot of damage.

How my beloved twinlets can turn from cute, delicate angels to steely strong destructive monsters in a flat second, I’ll never know.

Well, actually I do. It’s triggered by that inkling of tiredness or small pang of hunger.

For instance, the twinlets went through this phase where their foot HAD to be held while we were in the car.

I somehow had to do a yoga twist to reach out to the back seat and not only try to calm one but two children.

It was getting to the point of absurdity (or more like parent slavery). Without any other option, we went cold turkey.

No more soothing feet.

Ignore the tears instead.

Block your ears to the screams.

After much conditioning, I somehow found my happy place (Drinking a cocktail beside a pool in Bali, of course).

One morning though, K-Bear wasn’t going to give in to the sudden lack of feet attention. He wanted a foot rub, damn it.

Kicking and screaming all the way to the swimming pool (which felt far longer than the 20 minutes it took), he tried to escape from his car seat, busting out of the shoulder straps.

We were indeed the heartless parents who had seized him in a state of confinement.

And in his wild jungle protests, my little 3 year old monkey managed to kick off the interior door handle.

All that remains is this…

Oh, and this…

We can all laugh about it now. Just.

In fact, I’m now positive that twins start giving each other flack as early as 3 years of age because Nunu will occasionally point at the door and say:

“Look Mama, what happened to the door?”

Ah, it sounds like an innocent question but it’s obvious what he’s hinting at.

Enough so that K-Bear will mumble in reply:

“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m sorry…”

At least we still have 3 functioning door handles.

Besides your sanity, what has your toddler broken during a full-blown tantrum?

Joining Essentially Jess for another fabulous round of IBOT

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Of Poo and Parking Tickets

April 30, 2013 By: mamagrace7131 Comments

It’s a safe bet to say that those who say that raising twins is just the same as raising 2 children “close” in age don’t have twins of their own.

Take for example, toilet training.

Having the twinlets as very different individuals and personalities, the “High Five”, squeeze-a-brown-shark-out-get-a-toy technics have only worked for one.

The other insists that doing his business is no one’s business.

And that’s fine. We’re happy to go along with Nunu and when he’s good and ready to make the transition from Lightening McQueen Pull ups to Thomas the Tank undies, we’ll readily be there.

I took the boys to their favourite park the other week.

All was going smoothly when K-Bear insisted he needed to go to the toilet. Having just been to do a discreet wee outside the park fence 5 minutes earlier, I knew he was talking about dropping the brown bomb.

Logistics can be a real bitch at times like these. Trying to drag the other twin to come along was not only tough, but time crucial.

Crossing his legs, K-Bear desperately cried, “Mama…poo, poo!”

Finally, I was able to convince Nunu to get down from the equipment to follow his brother, albeit begrudgingly. I don’t blame him. Would you give up the slide to watch your brother take a crap?

I took the boys back to the quiet corner just outside the park. Legs spread wide in a perfect yoga triangle pose, K-Bear started to do his business.

Realizing that I somehow needed to clear up the mess, I pulled out the baby wipes and made a little nest where the poo could land.

Despite the few flies we attracted, all was going as well as could be expected.

Then, I noticed that up the road – 10 cars away from mine – a parking ranger was doing the rounds. I suddenly panicked realizing that I hadn’t put in any money in the meter. If I didn’t take drastic action, I was going to be slapped with an $88 parking ticket.

“Finished, sweetie???” I failed at trying to sound calm.

“No, Mama…”

More flies started gathering.

“Shoo fly!” K-Bear said, slightly distracted.

“Sweetie, are you finished, NOW???”

My boys are only 3 but they’re not stupid. They knew their mum was frantic.

While his brother plopped away, Noah was still playing near by but was starting to get agitated and impatient.

With my eyes darting back and forth, surveying my son’s poo situation and seeing that the dreaded parking man was only 10 metres away from my car, I knew I was done for.

“Okay, Mama. Finished!”

Quickly I scrambled up the bark and the soiled wipes, trying to wrap it into a neat parcel. Then, wiping my boy’s bum in Olympic record time, I swung our massive back pack around my shoulders, bolted to the bin to then head for the parking meter.

Not even thinking about my boys, they started running behind me.

I looked like Dora the Explorer with her own little troop of Boots and Diego, running behind her.

Vamanos!!!

“Mama, wait for me! Wait for me!” the boys cried out.

For any innocent by passer, I surely would’ve looked like a fugitive, crazy mum, escaping double trouble.

Still ignoring the twinlets’ cries to slow down, I made it to the parking meter just as the nasty parking ranger booked the car in front of me.

Crisis averted.

But damn it. I wasn’t so lucky the following week…

Gah!

Joining Essentially Jess for IBOT

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Things I Didn’t Expect (when I was expecting)

April 23, 2013 By: mamagrace7134 Comments

***This is not a sponsored post.***

There I sat. Cross-legged. Tucked away in the tiny corner of the “Pregnancy and Babies” section at the massive Borders bookshop.

8 weeks pregnant and none the wiser, I scoured through every book in the shelves, desperately searching for information – anything to get me through the next 32 or so weeks.

Despondently, I found that my pile of “must buy” books wasn’t very high compared to the ones I thought were utterly useless.

They all held relevant information, albeit in a clinical, text book manner.

However, I was on a hunt for the truth. I had some desperately pending questions that needed answering. I wanted to cut to the pregnancy reality chase.

“How much is this going to hurt ?”

“How supportive will Mr Surfer actually be?”

“Will my boobs ever be the same again?”

And beyond my own looming curiosity, there was the stuff I was completely clueless about but was inevitably a part of early motherhood: the puke, the poo (and that’s just your own), cliquey mothers’ groups and Nazi-type judgmental midwives.

Exposing her own undignified, yet honest baby making experiences Monica Dux’s book “Things I Didn’t Expect (when I was expecting) will have you snort laughing.

(Image Source)

Along side the humour, she also shares well-researched, thought provoking historical facts about pre and post natal procedures, concepts of birthing and even the transition of the paternal role during child birth. (Apparently in the 60’s, it was thought to believe that a father being present at a birth could turn him gay! Something about labour being so traumatic, it would obviously turn any husband off from his perfect wife. Hmmmm…)

I will admit. When I was first asked to review Monica’s book, I blindly thought that there was nothing left to scare me about the blood and gore of having a baby. After all, I had TWO at a time.

But this book’s not about that. It’s about finally opening up the taboo topics for discussion.

It was the exact book that I was hoping to find that day in the bookshop.

Whether you’re a mum of six or wondering what’s (really) in store when you’re about to have a baby, I highly recommend that you grab a copy of “Things I Didn’t Expect (when I was expecting).

The more we speak about the real concerns of pregnancy and early days of motherhood, the less stigmas we’ll have in our modern society.

I have a copy to giveaway to one lucky reader!

All you have to do is:

Leave a comment, answering the question: “When someone you knew/ you were pregnant, what did you/they experience that was completely unexpected?”
Follow With Some Grace
Subscribe to With Some Grace by Email

The important stuff:

This giveaway is only open to Australian residents
Closing date for entries is Tuesday, 30th of April.
The winner will be contacted via email on the following Wednesday.
If the winner does not reply to my email within 24 hours, another winner will be chosen.
Entries will be judged on merit and decision of the winner will be final.
The winner will be sent a copy of “Things I Didn’t Expect (when I was expecting) by Monica Dux through Melbourne University Publishing.

Joining Essentially Jess for another fab round of IBOT

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Wordless Wednesday – Little Master Chef Disasters

April 3, 2013 By: mamagrace7127 Comments

What started as an innocent scone bake off…

Got even messier…

Soon, a snowball, or should I say, gooey flour and water effect started…

That turned into complete pandemonium…

Left with a kitchen that had been invaded by little Master Chef monsters.

Lucky for me, my awesome husband came home to clean up the fiasco. Even luckier that I’m married to such a cute butt. It took him 2 hours of scrubbing and cleaning and he even had to buy a second mop head after the first one couldn’t take the grime no more.

I tried to convince him that it was all the twinlets’ cheeky doing. The naughty ones who were beyond control.

But I don’t think Mr Surfer believed me because I have to admit, it was so much fun 😉

It’s been awhile but back to joining Trish at My Little Drummer Boys for another round of Wordless Wednesday!

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DPCON13 Reflections (Part 2) – Defriending Grandma

March 27, 2013 By: mamagrace717 Comments

I have a confession.

The birth of my blog was founded on frustrations with one particular mother-in-law.

To state my case, I was exhausted, sleep-deprived and had just overcome a 2 month bout of nipple thrush. Tandem breastfeeding is as close to an Olympic marathon as a mother of twins can get. And I had been on my race for approximately 8 months.

All the while, my husband’s mother was around to see the entire ordeal. Lactating (yet extremely sore) breasts and all.

Instead of stabbing someone from the sheer frustration of limited access to the world and dealing with MIL overdose, Mr Surfer suggested I vent through writing. He dared me to submit a contribution to the Sydney Morning Herald’s daily column for gripes and blood boiling issues, “The Heckler”

Knowing my MIL religiously read the column, I used a pen name “Georgina Trinkett” (Genius, yes?) and by week’s end, it was published.

For the record, my husband was absolutely fine with the story. I had lost my blog over a year ago and despite all the lost content, his only concern was that this article was safe and retrievable.

And that my friends, is how you get addicted to writing.

For the Mother Tongue session at DPCON13, I had the cathartic pleasure of reading out my little prized piece of work.

*****

Defriending Grandma

THE world has been taken over by the rapid development of technology – and we have a generation of senior citizens who are determined not to be left behind in this revolution.

Initially, I thought it was commendable that this age group could truly embrace new mediums such as email, social networking sites and even video conferencing. But actually, these are just the new lethal weapons that the older folk use to annoy relatives, friends and any other innocent end users.

Take, for example, my friend’s mother – a lovely, hospitable lady who let me stay at her place in Canada when I was visiting her daughter one Christmas … more than 10 years ago. These days, her daughter and I rarely keep in touch. So why did my friend’s mother feel she needed to send me a Facebook friend request – placing me in the exclusive company of 33 other people?

Obliged to accept, I am now exposed to her status updates that include complaints about how her arthritis is playing up and making it hard to walk, but her eyes are still good enough for her to drive. The personal caption on her profile reads: ”I come in here (Facebook) to chek (sic) up on relatives but no updates since 2009 – what’s happened (sic) – no users anymore (sic).” Ah, no – we have all deactivated our accounts and use new ones.

Then there is my mother-in-law. As an all-embracing-gadgets grandmother, during her visits she is constantly armed with two crucial technical devices: a digital camera and her indispensable memory stick. The digital camera is there for the obvious reasons. But why the memory stick, you ask?

Dissatisfied with her own candid shots, she insists that each visit ends with a complete download of ALL my photos and does not leave until that memory stick is at FULL capacity with captured baby moments. Grandchildren have turned this sweet elderly lady into a complete digital photo hog.

Grandma has also discovered Skype. When suffering from grandchildren withdrawal symptoms, this tech-savvy pensioner will persistently click on that green ”call” button. Returning to the computer, I find the Skype icon bobbing frantically, telling me that there are missed calls from a desperate grandma. Depending on how much she’s missing her granddaughter that day, there may be three, or 10.

To all senior citizens out there who are discovering the ”limitless” joys of staying in touch through technology: for the recipient, there is always a limit.

*****

Photo courtesy of Trish Barry at Mastermind Consulting

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Curse You, Gastro Scum!!!

March 4, 2013 By: mamagrace7115 Comments

Gastro rarely occurs in our household but when it does, it’s never without drama and devastation.

Last week daycare was shut down for 3 days straight due to an outbreak. While the twinlets were in turbo mode throughout the whole time they were with me, being quarantined was obviously necessary.

With lots of nomadic traveling from playground to playground and a bit of iDevice parenting, both children and frazzled mama survived.

Just as we thought we made a lucky escape, Friday night saw some vomit episodes at Grandma’s house. Straggling pieces of carrot were precariously pulled out of one twinlets’ hair. A quick dash and save to the sink for the other.

Poor Grandma. She’s barely recovered from the boys’ impromptu brown shark fertilization of her garden back at Christmas.

The nasty bug was only a 24 hour dilemma. Phew! By Saturday the twinlets were back to their tornado selves.

Due to strict regulations from the local council (who have no idea what it’s like to have spewy kids or have completely forgotten) we needed to get a letter from the doctor’s to say they were fit to return to daycare and had no vomiting, diarrhea or fever for the past 24 hours.

Medical Centres are a nightmare at the best of times. Sunday afternoons are diabolical.

I’ve said it on many occasion, but it’s arduous parenting moments times like these I make a quiet tribute to Mr Jobs for saving my family’s sanity.

Where would we be without iPads and Toca Boca apps?

After 2 hours of waiting, we eventually got to see a doctor. The twinlets had just started to lose it and on the way into the office, K-Bear had a meltdown in the corridor.

Thinking our boy was scared of doctors, the GP told us K-Bear had nothing to worry about.

“Oh no, he’s crying for the iPad…” I tried to explain.

“So they’re spoilt, then…”

Great. A judgey wudgey GP.

Blood quietly boiling, I kept my composure.

“When you have twins, you do what you can to keep EVERYONE happy…” I hissed.

Grabbing our stupid letters, I marched out with my children, with Mr Surfer trailing behind me.

You would think at this stage, we were in the clear. Smooth sailing into a brand new week.

Dinner time came along and one little twinlet was so excited to have an appetite again, he ate himself silly until he heaved it all up. A two handed catch straight into my hands. I always knew I would make a great left fielder in cricket.

After all that hassle in obtaining two measly letters that were essentially tickets to return to some normalcy, one of those is now null and void.

While Nunu made it to daycare, K-Bear is home with me. Poor kid.

A bit of time apart never hurt a pair of twins.

Just as long as revolting stomach viruses are kept well at bay.

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Married with a maiden name

February 19, 2013 By: mamagrace7157 Comments

It was never intended to be an act of feminism.

Maybe it was the fact that only 4 months after getting married we delved right into the overwhelming world of being first time parents of twins, leaving no time to deal with the laborious bureaucratic paperwork involved.

I just never had the urge or felt it necessary to take on my husband’s surname.

Not even when my MIL randomly asked me 6 months after our wedding (in the middle of Masterchef during commercial break, no less), what I was going to do about changing my maiden name.

(“Er, nothing…”)

Even knowing my stance on this, she still insists on sending us letters and cards addressed as “Mr and Mrs (Insert Husband’s Full First and Last Name)”.

It’s as irritating as ants crawling under my skin, but hey, I ain’t gonna change my mind.

Prior to being married, it never occurred to me that I would feel this strongly.

Actually, I was one of those girls busting to find a nice guy, with minimal baggage (at best) and a simple, common surname.

Depending on one’s interpretation, my unique maiden name could either be referred to certain female body parts or hold close sounding resemblance to a great big lake in the Andes of South America. (Take your pick).

All my life, my father’s surname has either given me grief in the school playground or quizzical looks from Motor Registry clerks or bank tellers.

Who wouldn’t want to change my name?

Then, finally the opportunity arose itself.

And for some reason, the thought of making all those fiddly adjustments; the fact that I would lose the last remains of my Indonesian identity; and all those years of effort in defending my differences and background; instincts told me not to bother.

It doesn’t mean I love my husband any less. Nor has it jeopardized the connection with my boys who indeed carry their father’s surname (Now, there’s one consolation for my MIL).

It’s not even about protecting my career and the professional reputation I built during those pre-marital days.

It’s about choice. It’s about what makes me most comfortable.

It’s about equality and mutual respect.

And correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t they the aspects of marriage, anyway?

My MIL hasn’t brought up the issue since. Maybe it was because the conversation was quickly shut down by Mr Surfer saying it was no one’s business what I decided to do.

Obviously, Mr Surfer himself doesn’t care what I do.

Hell, I could change my name to Princess Panda Poo Poo and he wouldn’t blink an eye.

As long as we’re happy and we continue our commitment to nurture and strengthen our family bond, what else matters?

Did you keep your maiden name or take your husband’s after getting married? What were your reasons? Do you think Princess Panda Poo Poo would suit me?

Joining Essentially Jess for some essential IBOT

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