I Want my Wife Back

These were the plaintive words of my husband tonight as I sent him off to bed before me yet again.

Now I need to put this in context.

My beloved husband is a workaholic, multi media designer and small business owner. Ever since we met he has done a day's work: getting new business, liaising, having meetings etc then come home to the 'night shift' where he does the actual creative stuff. This night shift will regularly go until 2am after which he is able to sleep in until around 8.30am and still get to work between 9 and 9.30am. (he's a boy)

Moi, on the other hand, has to be at work by at least 8.15am and requires at least an hour's preparation time to try on my 3,000 outfits, cake on my 'slap' and get my hair to do something, anything!! Result: I am usually in bed before him. Well before.

This has never posed any problems, for him at least.

At the moment however I am in the throes of marking, writing and modifying exams all on the back of reports. I have developed a pattern of sleeping for several hours after dinner and then getting up near 11.30pm to get stuck in with a fresh mind. Consequently I have been regularly getting to bed at 3am. And yes, still getting up at 6.30am. The effect of this on himself has been quite curious.

He has started going to bed earlier and earlier and moaning bitterly when I do not accompany him! Tonight he retired at 12.30am!! He must be sick! But as he moped off down the hall he was heard to remark that he was going to write to my Boss and tell him that he 'wanted his wife back'. Don't know if anyone else spots the irony in this. Makes me LOL!!!

Must get back to the grindstone, have 2 hours of maths with Year 8 tomorrow arvo and have to think of things to do to occupy them. There is no way they will cope with revision for that whole period. For one thing, last week one of them whinged that they had 'done this before'.
"Yes," I replied," This is revision."
"What's that?" came the puzzled response. Sigh. I do worry.

'Night...or good morning all!

Technorati

I am sometimes completely mystefied by aspects of blogging. Claiming blogs. Authority. Tags. Subscribe to this feed (what's THAT?) I dunno, it's all technorati to me!!!

Man in Charge

Saturday morning, a sleep in at last. Drowsily 'coming to' and rolling over luxuriously in the warmth of the quilt to see the crisp blue sky framed through the window. Interesting sound from the depths of the house. Roll over again and snuggle down. Nagging sound, click click click. Drift back off with the knowledge that I don't have to be up for another 30 minutes....another flurry of clicks. What IS that?

Lightning bolt. I am now sitting bolt upright in bed. The bellow comes from the depths of my lungs.

"Please tell me you are not letting that boy run around this house in his FOOTBALL BOOTS!!!!!!!!!!"

Silence. More clicks and hurried footsteps, a door slam, car in the drive.

Cowards.

Begin

Eighteen. First job. Borrowed suit. Borrowed tie. Even borrowed shoes....thanks Dad.

Door to door sales for charity.

Commission only. Six hours walking the streets for $40.00. That day.
Next day......nothing.

How do you tie this thing? Did you know if I make a Direct Debit sale I get more than I do for a Credit Card? We call them DD and CC. I might buy a jacket with my first cheque. How do you tie this thing? Sam says I did really well for my first day. Take a picture of me in my suit to show Mum. How do you tie this thing?

He is the antithesis of a salesman. He's too intense. His sense of humour too surreal. This can't last....

but............he's learning to tie a tie! He's having a go. And he's smiling again.........We watch him begin......

For more breath taking 'Begins' see Theme Thursday on Picture This

Best Shot Monday

Summer. All the 'Moms' in the Northern Blogisphere are talking about it. Of course for us it's a memory and to find my 'Best Summer Shot' I had to trawl back though my files. I love this shot because it was early evening and we had just returned from the freezing cold UK to the joys of long days and 30C evenings before school went back. Baby Angel was now a seasoned 'boogie boarder' and poor old sun hat and sunscreen Mum sheltered, with her camera, on the shore under her sun umbrella while youth took a healthy bite of the ocean. The sad thing is that this is the childhood I dreamed about when I was a child. I was never confident in the waves. I hated water on my face, always burned really easily and was frightened of making a fool of myself in front of the other kids. I look on at her now in a cloud of pre-teen nostalgia for the way I wished I had been, even at the time. She's not even bothered by the oncoming wave.........well ok, it's only a little one !!!!!

For more (and mostly higher resolution) fantastic pix check out 'Best Shot Monday' on
Picture This.

News from the 'Old Country"

I am sooooooooooooo excited!!! Phone call tonight from the UK. During the week I heard that Mum and Dad have booked their tickets for Aus, 28th Nov, oh boy oh boy oh boy. Tonight, triple excitement; my middle sister SmokyJo ( see left) is booking her tickets as we speak and bringing my beloved B-I-L with her. We can hardly wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They have not been out here since we returned in 2003 and prior to that I think was the visit for my first wedding in 1992. Actually sis may have done a quick trip back at some point while I was living in UK but the key point is, we have never had the opportunity to have them here in our 'environment', we are soooooooooooooooo excited!!

Of course all this is complicated by the fact that Baby Angel will be due to visit Dad in Sydney at precisely the time Auntie SJ will be here. Ah well, nothing's simple. I'll trust that it will all work out.

Children learn what they live.........

Late, late, late and have just finished setting an English exam but I must share this example of a mother who has completely 'lost the sword'.

In my Geography class I have a boisterous character called CJ. He could so easily be one of those 'likeable rogues' who deftly avoids work with humour and has procrastination and scene stealing down to a fine art- but for one thing. CJ refuses to take responsibility for his actions.

If CJ has been calling out incessantly across the room, with humorous intent, for just that little bit too long and he is asked to 'move' seats or step outside, the resultant stream of 'its' not fairs' and 'everyone picks on me' are impressive to behold.

If CJ has failed to hand up yet another round of homework, classwork or major assignments- he had a funeral in Italy to attend.

If CJ has a lunchtime session to complete work which he has failed to hand up, he arrives with no books, pens or visible means of support and proceeds to wax lyrical as to why he was unable to find them in his locker/bag/bedroom or how he lent them to someone/left them somewhere or completed them and then fed them to the dog (well maybe not the dog bit...but he did pull the Italian funeral one!!!).

When given the opportunity to reduce his after school detention to a lunchtime walking with me on duty he initially agreed wholeheartedly, until he discovered that this meant being out there for a whole 20 minutes!!! How outrageously unfair! Lunchtime detentions are usually only 5 minutes (yeah because the teachers usually want to go and get their lunch). Bear in mind that the after school detention would have been for 40 minutes! He squealed bitterly about the injustice of it all for the entire 20 minutes.

After a semester of this and after requesting a parent interview at mid term (no response), I finally rang Mum yesterday. Guess what she said?

Perhaps he's finding the work difficult. Is it happening after lunch? Perhaps he's tired. Who is he sitting next to? There are two boys he went to primary school with who sometimes get him into trouble. Is he next to them? Does he understand what he has to do? I've never had any trouble with him before.

She did pull up a bit short when I mentioned his Italian funeral (I had actually thought it might be true) but other than that.........the search for excuses was extensive.

I wonder where he gets it from?

Thank you to all those other parents who pick up their flaming sword when they receive a call from school. What a difference it makes when pupils know that their parents value the school and the teacher's efforts. If my daughter asks me for a note in her diary to excuse her for not finishing homework, I say 'no'. How else will she learn to prioritise her time if she does not experience the consequences of attempting to do homework whilst on MSN?

Parents do not do their children any favours by constantly making excuses for them. CJ has learned that it can never be his fault, because after all, Mum says so!