Monday, 22 September 2014

Life Hacks: Ness Style

At the rather *ahem* mature age of 43 I have certainly learnt a few things. Chiefly, how to make all those mundane and never-ending daily tasks slightly less painful. 

So it's only fair that I should share with you my profound wisdom. 

So here goes: 


1. Google it. Or, the more blunt version: JFGI! Which stands for: Just fucking Google it! 

I recently discovered the best way to clean a microwave by this unique and innovative method. Incidentally, this involves placing a jug with some water and vinegar into the microwave and putting it on for five minutes. The resulting steam will then efficiently loosen all the debris and you will be able to wipe it clean easily. Yep, I'm a GENIUS. 

2. Purchase all pairs of socks in identical colours. This way there will be less chance of them escaping via your washing machine to that parallel universe where all the odd socks and lost pens live. But there will still be an annoying odd one. There is ALWAYS an odd one. There is nothing you can do about this. Just make a sock puppet with it for your kids. Alternatively, you could always go completely feral hippie and just avoid wearing all socks and shoes altogether. Winning! 

3. Make a daily to-do list. On this list make sure you always include breakfast, lunch AND dinner. That way, there is a good chance that you'll tick at least three things off for the day. Add morning and afternoon tea as well for bonus points. Unless you are one of those bizarre people who consistently forget to eat, in which case I've got nothing for you. If you have to be reminded to eat there is no hope for you. 

4. Multi-task. For example, I have been known to cling wrap my hair (while waiting for a dodgy DIY home dye to work), soak my feet (for a dodgy DIY pedi) and simultaneously drink coffee while surfing the net and watching TV. Again, I reiterate: GENIUS!

5. Never iron sheets, table cloths, tea towels, undies, or, in fact, any clothes at all. After all, ain't nobody got time for THAT, as the now infamous saying goes. Plus, if you're classy like me you can just be the Queen Of Polyester (or any other cheap and nasty synthetic fabric). No ironing required! 

And, finally, my most important life hack: ignore all advice! 

Particularly mine....ahem. Unless it works for you. We can only do our best and whatever works for us. There is no right or wrong.

The only thing I INSIST that you do is to have a cup of tea and cakie! Pronto! Works for me! 


Linking up for I Must Confess and Laugh Link. 

What are your life hacks? 

Monday, 15 September 2014

In Praise Of My Parents And Parents-In-Law

Today I'm confessing to what I REALLY think about my parents and parents-in-law. This could be interesting. But it's actually pretty straight forward for me.

The truth is, I think they are all AMAZING. And they didn't even pay me to say that! Seriously.

Micky Blue Eyes and I consider ourselves to be extremely lucky and blessed to have both of our parents still alive in their 70's and still actually married to each other for decades. Impressive.

I mean, they've stayed married for that long without attempting to kill each other. How did they manage to do that? Ahem...

My parents, Alison and Michael, were married in 1966. My brother arrived in 1968 and I made my way into the World a few years later in 1971. 

My parents on their wedding day, November 11, 1966.  It's obvious
where I got my striking good looks from.

Growing up with my parents was a wonderful experience. My parents provided just the right amount of firmness with an abundance of unconditional love.

This is still the case today, for myself, Mick and my boys. The boys have doting Grandparents. Not 'dotting' as Micky Blue Eyes sometimes mispronounces it. He has this weird habit of doing that. Mispronouncing words. But that's a whole other post....

Me with my Mum and Dad (and a certain little man)
 on my 40th birthday, January 15th, 2011.

To be perfectly honest I'm still something of a Mummy's girl, even at the ripe old age of 43. Shut up.

But to all you naysayers who think cutting off the apron strings is long overdue, I say this:

First of all, my Mum never even wore an apron! (Okay, it may not have been meant quite so literally....)

Secondly, Mum is like my best friend as well as my Mum, and I wouldn't have it any other way.


Thirdly, she makes THE BEST apple pie and cakies in the whole entire Universe! And I'm the Cakie Queen! Winning!

On a more serious note, from what I can gather, a fair amount of folk out there do have a somewhat fraught relationship with their mother and/or parents. I'm very aware of how fortunate I am.

My parents-in-law are extremely private sort of people, so they may not like me talking about them in this space. Therefore I won't say too much. Only that they've always accepted me into the family in all my weird and quiet wonderful ways, and how very much I appreciate it.

 At our wedding a hundred 19 years ago, Micky Blue Eyes became a tad tongue-tied during his speech. This resulted in him thanking his parents for 'bringing him up under a roof that didn't leak'.  It was funny at the time, but you had to be there.

Well, not only did they bring him up 'under a roof that didn't leak', they also brought him up to be an exceptional human being. I am very thankful for this, because I benefit from having such a wonderful husband and father for my children.

Nauseating, but true. I apologise, I should have provided sick bags for this post.

I've just realised that I don't have many recent photos of my parents or parents-in-law. It seems as though we're all camera hogging exhibitionists. Or something.

I'm not even sure why I get so stressed when the silly season rolls around.  My parents and parents-in-law are such good sports that they don't force us to race around like mad things to their respective homes and stuff ourselves with multiple Christmas feasts on one day. We've always been lucky enough to alternate each year between spending Christmas day with one side and boxing day with the other.

And it's actually not an ordeal to spend time our families, at Christmas, and throughout the year. How lucky are we to be able say that?

All together now.....Nawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

It's a short and sweet post today. Sickly, sickly sweet. I sincerely hope you're all feeling warm and fuzzy right now and not terribly ill. Oops. Over and out.

Linking up for I Must Confess.

How do you REALLY feel about your parents and/or in-laws?

Or, if that's a loaded question, just tell me a joke instead....

Thursday, 11 September 2014

Introverts Are Still Awesome!

You may remember my lovely little self-indulgent stroll down an introverted lane. Well, I now want to take another wander down this path and present my much anticipated Part Two! I know you've probably been waiting for it with bated breath. What's that? You have no idea what I'm on about? HMPH. You can read it here.

Anyway, as I was saying, I am really quite the massive introvert. Even alcohol doesn't 'bring me out of my shell'. Instead, I just feel sleepy and mellow after one or two drinks. After a third I'll either feel light-headed and sick or slip into a coma. I'm SUCH a party animal!

Fortunately, I never attend many parties. Unless they are children's parties. Nobody appears to have 'at home' parties anymore. Or, if they are, we're not being invited. This means that I may have to sit in a McDonald's/Play Centre/Bowling Alley with a few other unfamiliar parents and make polite chit-chat. Not surprisingly, I suck at it. 

I'll either go with my favourite option: mutism. Or, alternatively, I'll completely put my foot in it and blurt out way too much information. 

Like the time one Mum was chatting away about a friend who had tragically lost a baby half way through her pregnancy, yet still had to give birth.

"I couldn't imagine having to go through that!" she said, almost in tears "It would be terrible!"

"Yes, it is," I replied, without thinking "the same thing happened to me." 

The poor woman looked thunderstruck. Of course there was no way she could ever have known that. I wouldn't say it was exactly helpful of me to bring it up. She apologised, clearly wishing the ground would swallow her. Good one, Ness.

Ditto the time when I used to attend Playgroup with Mr 5 before he started school. One of the Mums there expressed her worry about her Dad who was having a colonoscopy that day. I proceeded to inform her how Micky Blue Eyes has one every year after having had bowel cancer in 2004. Her worried expression turned to one of terror. Well played yet again, Ness.  Way to go with the social gaffes!

As Mr 10 would say in a faux American drawl:


No wonder I mostly stick to what I'm best at. Shutting right up.

Yes sir, selective mutism and I are besties. 

ALL VALE NESSKI: Bringing you awkward silences since 1971!

Another phenomenon that came into play during the Play Group era was my introverted tendency to suffer from a 'social hangover'. I briefly touched upon this before.

Playgroup only consisted of a measly two hours a week of social interaction.  That's nothing, right? So why did I go home every week and feel like sobbing from exhaustion? The next week would roll around and I'd feel barely recovered.

Meanwhile, the other Mums revealed how they schlepped their kidlets to various groups on multiple days of the week. I was STUNNED to learn this. Seriously. STUNNED. 

I couldn't have been more shocked if they'd revealed that they liked to snort cocaine off a hooker's arse while their kids watched. 

Okay, I may be exaggerating just a teeny bit. But it is quite amazing to me how you weirdo extroverted folk like this socialising caper so much. 

I guess I could force myself out of my comfort zone once in while. Speaking of which, I'll be attending Mr 5's school assembly this afternoon. There will be crowds, noise, parents, children and off-key singing. Last time I attended Mr 10's assembly I accidentally sat in the wrong spot in the school hall. This resulted in me being mistaken for a casual teacher twice.

It only occurred to me later that I should have totally went with it Jack Black/School Of Rock style and pretended I was. I'm sure I could have had those kids belting out Carpenters songs before school ended! Shut up, they are rock! CLASSIC rock, I tell you! Oh all right, classic soft rock. Adult contemporary? Okay, so they're bloody easy listening! So what? HMPH. 

I'm rambling again, aren't I? Oh well, this is the only place where I do it, therefore I'm allowed. So ner!

It is quite interesting being a shy, introverted Aspie and being a mother of three amazing but noisy boys! On the one hand, I often crave peace and solitude. On the other hand, my family are my coat of armour against the World.

An oldie but a goodie 

In all my many awkward moments I can remind myself that I don't have to worry about what others think of me. I have Micky Blue Eyes and the boys who love and accept me. We are a family of introverts. The only difference is, my boys are certainly NOT shy! 

I'm still plodding through Susan Cain's Quiet: The Power Of Introverts In A World That Can't Stop Talking and finding it fascinating.  See, introverts ARE fascinating! I knew it! I'm totally riveting. So the fact that you're probably nodding off around now is not my fault. No way. 

Anyway, Susan Cain has a Manifesto for Introverts.

 I'd like to make up my own manifesto, but I'll have to think about it further in order to come up with something poetic and wise.

In the mean time, you can always count on good old Grumpy Cat:

Linking up for The Lounge and Laugh Link.

Do you have a manifesto?

What does family mean to you? 

Tuesday, 9 September 2014


I've been tagged in the Ms Mystery Case Worth Casing Awards
 by the Queen of Awesome herself, Tegan over at Musings Of The Misguided. 

Mystery Case
This means I'm worth 'casing'. This is the same as stalking expect without the creepy bit. And why wouldn't you stalk this blog?!

That was a rhetorical question. No need to answer. Thank you. 

Anyway, a big thanks to Tegan! 

Apparently I must answer five questions and then tag five other bloggers. The first part is easy. Here goes:

1. How long have you been blogging and why did you start?

Um, I think I started around March of 2012. I started because I used to write these silly witty Christmas/End of Year letters to friends. My friends were too polite to tell me to give up LOVED them. So I figured why stop at just boring my friends when there is an entire blogosphere out there?! You're welcome!

2. If your wardrobe could talk what would it say about you and tell us about your favourite or most worn item?

Well, it would most likely say something along the lines of 'Back away from the Cakies for FFS!!' Followed closely by: "There are a myriad of colours besides black!" But mostly it would just say: "You need to tidy me once in a while!"

My favourite and most worn item would be my trusty dressing gown, followed by my trackies. Ahem.  I also have a long sort of drapey coat type arrangement. I bought it from Autograph a few years ago and I've worn it TO DEATH. It's still got a few years of wear left in it. Shut up. 

3. What's your idea of the perfect date night?

What's that? Oh, you mean where you get to go out with your partner without kids to a restaurant that doesn't serve chicken nuggets? Yes, that would be lovely. Followed by watching an entire movie without interruption. 

4. What's on your Worth Casing list?

This is where I would love to be able to drop names like Prada and Diane Von Furstenburg with the ease of a svelte, cashed-up yummy mummy. The truth is this: I went into Millers the other day (I know. THE SHAME...) with my five dollar reward voucher to buy one of their long (black- what else?) cardies and there were none left!! How frightfully RUDE!  Plus, I really need some new shoes. Flat, sensible ones. Again, I reiterate: shut UP. 

5. If you had a theme song what would it be and why?

I'm not exactly sure but it would have to be something sad and weepy. probably involving violins. Especially after admitting to all of the above. Send In The Clowns? 

Now this is where it all starts to get tricky and too much for my tiny little brain. I'm supposed to tag five other bloggers. This is problematic because it appears that every blogger in the known universe has already been tagged. Besides which, you know I love you all, so how could I possibly narrow it down to only five?? 

I know, I know. I'm cheating and not playing the game right. But I've always been crap at these chain letter type things. So I'll probably have some awful tragedy happen to me now. Like ending up virtually destitute and friendless, shopping at Millers in sensible shoes and listening to weepy music.....

Oh wait....


What's your theme song? 

Monday, 8 September 2014

Top Five

I've decided to regurgitate this oldie but goodie post simply because I can't be bothered writing a new one it was so brilliant it deserves a second viewing. You're welcome.

Today I'm confessing to my top five favourite celeb hunks. These are the dudes I'd love to have a 'free pass' for from Micky Blue Eyes if the opportunity ever, erm... arose.

Highly likely, since I'm always jet-setting off to the Oscars and hanging around the Glitterati. Glitteratai? Whatever. As long as it's not actual glitter. That stuff is EVIL.

It's hard to narrow it down to five. But I'll try. I'm thinking: Hugh Jackman, Colin Firth, Bradley Cooper, Ryan Reynolds and that Irish dude from Bridesmaids. Okay, he's not even that good looking but it's the accent. Shut up. 

The truth is, even if the all the above gentleman were agreeable to this arrangement, (and let's face it, why wouldn't they be? I certainly do ooze sex appeal and all that), Micky Blue Eyes certainly would NOT give me a free pass for ANYBODY.  How rude. You'd think I married him or something and made some sort of promise to be faithful, forsaking all others. Oh.


The man is frightfully jealous. Well, you can't blame him. I did mention my undeniable sex appeal. This, coupled with my extremely flirtatious nature, would be a cause for concern. Snorts.

Seriously though, there would be no free passes for me. And I would never give him one either. Sorry dude, you'll have turn Jen Hawkins down. The poor lass will just have to settle for the Adonis she married. Poor old Jen.

If we ever wanted to indulge in our secret passions and crushes we'd have to resort to a good old-fashioned affair. There is only one problem with this option. Actually a few problems.

My Top Five Reasons I Could Never Have An Affair

5. I would have to become an expert liar. While I am quite adept at making up crap writing witty words for this blog, I am less able to glibly lie, especially directly to some body's face. Plus, my memory is so shocking I'd have trouble recalling my own web of lies. This would clearly make me the worst adulterer EVER.

4. I would be really bad at sexting. I'd need lessons from Warnie. Hmmm, then again, Warnie wasn't that great at it either, was he? I'd have no idea how to send my lover photos of my national geographics boobs. Worse still, I have no idea how to delete texts. I've only recently come into the 21st century and obtained an android phone. Shut up. 

3. I would actually have to shave my legs once in while. This would certainly make Micky Blue Eyes suspicious. Very suspicious indeed. Not to mention other areas that would require deforestation. I meant my 'moutache' and pits! Nobody wants to know about any other bits. 


Which brings me to my next point...

2. Nobody has propositioned me! Not once! EVER!

You'd think that in the space of almost twenty years somebody would have tried to get their leg over. But no. Unless you count that creepy old dude with trousers up to his arm pits who rubbed himself against me in a crowded elevator at the shops once. Nothing. 

Clearly it's my devastating sex appeal that is intimidating. I'm just too much woman for all these men. Way too much.

Okay, I suppose I do need to lose weight. Sniff. 

And the number one reason I could never have an affair....

Drum roll please! (You'll have to imagine it...)


Seriously, who has the time or inclination for all that sneaking around and sexting? It all seems like a bit too much effort to me. 

I'm sure there are certain websites with names like sleazebagsanddesperadosdotcom where I could hook up with some
creepy old dude with trousers up to his arm pits hot dude if I was that way inclined, but for some reason that I simply can't fathom, this just doesn't appeal to me. 

So there you have it. All the reasons I wouldn't have an affair.

Oh, those reasons and the fact that I'm truly, madly and deeply in love with Micky Blue Eyes and would never look sideways at another man....

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh my! What were we talking about again? I got distracted doing my neck exercises. Okay, I'm off to do some house work more neck exercises. Bye! 

Linking up for I Must Confess ,Open Slather  and Mummy Mondays.

Who are your 'top five'?

Could you ever have an affair?

Friday, 5 September 2014

Ticking Off Lists Ticks Me Off: Another Post About Nothing

To be perfectly honest with you I know NOTHING. In fact, I know a whole lot of nothing about absolutely NOTHING.  I’m a nothing expert, if you will. Just what the World needs.  Especially with all these ProBlogger posts circulating the blogosphere about ‘useful’ content. 


Instead, I bring to you a completely useless post about, you guessed it: NOTHING! You’re welcome.

I know that I am frightfully hungry right now and uncertain whether to plunge ahead with that trusty meal we tend to call lunch. You see, my parents mentioned that they would be calling in and I fondly imagined that this might coincide with lunch as it has at other times. But they haven’t appeared as yet. Which is extremely rude, as I expected them to provide the lunch. HMPH.

(Mum, I’m joking if you’re reading this!) Oh who am I kidding? Of course she's reading this! Nobody else does. Sniff. 

I know that I’m in a rather wistful, dreamy, reflective mood today. You know, as opposed to all the other days when I’m alert, efficient and organised. Not to mention delusional. Shut up. We weren’t supposed to mention that!

I know that I have at least attempted to become alert, efficient and organised. In the last few months I have started developing a habit of writing down a to-do list and ticking it off. I know! Ground breaking! I’ve always been cutting edge. 

Anyway, despite my forays into list-making, there is no discernible evidence of this unique endeavour. My house still resembles a war-zone with no end of things to-do in sight. This is most disheartening. What I would like to know is: how do people receive pay-offs from house-keeping and organising? I suppose they are just better at it than me. Bloody show-offs.


This ticking off lists is starting to tick me off. I want pay-offs! After all, if I’ve gone to the astonishing effort of doing and completing five million things in a day, I expect fan-fare: crowds cheering, balloons and celebratory champagne.  Plus, a million dollars in cold hard cash, thanks very much. 

If Kim Kardashian can demand buckets of cash just for turning up to an event with her large arse and even larger attitude, I don’t see why I, a modest house wife, shouldn’t be able to demand the same. 

I consistently turn up in my own ramshackle home, with my large arse, and make a lacklustre attempt at maintaining some semblance of disorder. I mean, where is the justice? 

On a side note, isn't ‘ramshackle’ a most delightful word? It’s almost worth having a ramshackle home, just so that I can confidently use the word ‘ramshackle’.  Dilapidated and dishevelled would also work here. 

Who wants to have a home that could only be described as ‘perfect’when you can have one that is ramshackle, dilapidated and dishevelled?  Everybody?  Oh. As you were, then.

I still stand by the above words.  And live with them. In them? Whatever.

You know how I mentioned that I was frightfully hungry a few paragraphs ago. It would appear that I am now ravenous. I may have to go to all the effort of making my own lunch. Shocking. 

Related: when Micky Blue Eyes asks me ‘What are you having for lunch?’ what he really means is ‘Make me lunch’. As I typed that he did make his own toast. But none for me. Grounds for divorce really, if you ask me.

In other astounding news, it’s raining! Why not? Just for something COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.

Oh well, I guess I had better go and have lunch and tick it off my list.  Of course it’s on my to-do list! Breakfast, lunch AND dinner! That way, at least I know I’ll definitely tick three things off my list of five million. Winning! 

What's ticking you off? What things do you know? 

Monday, 1 September 2014

Cakie Queen

Well, today's confession is perfect for me. The self-confessed Queen Of Cakies. Actually it's not much of a confession. It's old news. Anybody who has ever read this space knows I'm the Cakie Queen.

I love cake but it doesn't seem to like me. It appears to want to make me fat. How frightfully RUDE. The same phenomenon applies to my other weakness: chocolate. It really is quite unfair that this love affair is unrequited. Sniff. 

It has also become a clandestine affair. Forbidden fruit and all that. Over a year ago the not very surprising shocking news came that my cholesterol levels were a concern. Additionally, my blood sugar was somewhat borderline. This would have indicated that I should have dutifully started the I Quit Sugar programme, pronto.

Instead, I embarked on the I Don't Really Want To Quit Sugar So  I'll Pretend That Didn't Happen Programme. This involves inserting ones head in ones posterior. Then compromising your health by continuing in much the same vein, but with an extra dollop of guilt. As if the guilt I already had wasn't quite enough, thanks very much. Yes, I'm very mature.

After all, the days of being able to take the 'Mars a day' advertising slogan quite literally(which I did as a teen), were well and truly behind me decades ago.

Feeling foolish, and thinking I needed a massive kick up my afore- mentioned rather large posterior, I signed up for the Get Healthy Programme. You know the one. They advertise it on the telly in between all the ads for Maccas and Magnums. You have a telephone coach call every week to guide you on a path to healthy eating.

Apparently, I seem to have confused it with the Get Unhealthy Programme. I have made some improvements. I'm cooking a lot more healthy meals for the family. But my sugar addiction remains intact. Sigh.

I appear to be one of those folk whose only arsenal against avoiding temptation (especially of the cake shaped variety) is simply never having the temptation in front of me. Ever.

Easy peasy.

All I need to do is avoid all shops and restaurants and social occasions FOREVER. Meanwhile, I can live on the rations that Micky Blue Eyes pokes through the bars of the cage I'll have to stay in. I'll be so feral without my sugar fix I won't be fit for any human contact. Done.

The other day I had a conversation with my Mum that went something like this:

"Have you been back for your blood test again?"

"Um, no..." I replied.

"You better make sure you do it!" she admonished me. It was just like I the time when I was three years old and scribbled all over the living room walls. I was a very naughty girl.

"Okay." I agreed meekly, already feeling faint. I hate the thought of blood, let alone the sight of it.

The same day, I arrived home to find a reminder from my GP complete with a pathology slip. I think the universe is trying to tell me something. Well, my Mum and my GP are, anyway.

This shit is getting real. I really am a middle aged woman.  Who knew? It may actually be well past the time to relinquish my crown and officially step down as the Cakie Queen. Sigh. Double Sigh. Triple Sigh. Hysterical sobbing even.

I know. I'm frightfully immature. I can't accept eating cakies and sugar in moderation. Meanwhile, there are children dealing with the reality of living with Diabetes every day. I know I'm being ridonkulous. I also know ridonkulous is not word. But I DON'T CARE. So ner! 

Anyway, I'm going to go and have my blood test this week and accept the reality of whatever I'm told.

On the plus side, I bought a set of scales the other day. I tested the display model and it told me I've lost about 1.5 kilos!! Okay, that's not much. But I'll take anything, considering the amount of cake I shovel in. Ahem.

And I promise I won't bore you with anymore posts about my weight or failed attempts to give up my beloved cakies. Deal.

Linking up for 
I Must Confess.

What is your favourite sweet treat? 

Have you ever been successful in giving it up?

Is the I Quit Sugar programme really as awful as it sounds?