Today in the International House of Font the celebration of the awesomeness that is me, mother of awesome, was pretty well… awesome.

Presents.  Breakfast made by an Emo. Glee. Text from a ring in Emo that made me cry.

Awesome.

So as I sit here, my feet bubbling away on warm whirl massage in my new foot spa (courtesy of Moo) and MPS fixes up my new QUERTY keyboard phone, I will share some of my goodies from the day.

Mothers Day stall presents from Boo.  OMG how I adore the mothers day stall crap.  He was so proud of what he picked.

Can I get an awwwwwwwwwww?

Too drew this picture from a very small photo from our wedding.  The photo doesn’t do it justice.  The detail is amazing AND she did it all after I went to bed last night.

A footspa from Moo.  To help my Achilles.  *sob*

Then Too made me these white chocolate cream cheese Danish FROM SCRATCH.

Ommmm nommm nommm

I spent the majority of the day sitting down watching Glee FROM THE START and admiring my flowers.  And taking pics with my new phone.  And barking orders at everyone.

Just like any other Sunday really.

Hope you had a lovely day, whether celebrating motherhood or just sleeping in.  So tell me all about it.

Today Boo was up and raring to go.  Dressed and packed for his first day of the school year an HOUR AND A HALF ahead of time.

Too did the usual ‘whatevz’ but left the house sporting her new awesome messenger bag and the cutest pencil case ON EARTH.

Moo lounged around in bed, as you do when you are now officially a fucking bum finished school.

Dropped MPS at the bus stop, Too at the train station, Boo at his new classroom and then Da Boyfriend came and picked up Moo and then I was free.  Free.  FREE!

First day AH-LONE since October last year.

I contemplated streaking around the house nekkid, but settled on baking lemon cookies listening to Metallica sans pants.

Every year I take the first week back at school off work {hmmm, does that even make sense?  I take a week off work on their first week back… whatevz I AIN’T AT WORK BIATCHES AND I AM HOME AH-LONE!} under the guise that I will be available for the new teacher and aide lest Boo lose his shit.  But we all know it is cause I want to be alone.

Sans pants.

A few hours into my solitude I got an email from MPS telling me that he had busted the fly in his pants and was dreading the bus ride home giving The Great Unwashed a free peepshow.  As I am a kind and supportive wife I replied with ’sucks to be you Hobo’.

Then I spent the next half hour composing a text message to fuck with Too aka Grammar Nazi’s head.

‘Msg me @{insert next town with all vowels removed} if train L8.  KTHXBAI’

And then I giggled my sans pantsified arse off at the mental image of her screaming at her phone after receiving it.

Alas, apparently I lose a few IQ points while basking at the altar of sans pantsery and sent the message to her old mobile number. But no matter, when I told her what I sent I got to actually SEE the head explosion minutes after she informed me that her English class is full of poor unfortunates of normal intelligence and therefore the class is a total and utter waste of time.  I believe her words were ‘when the teacher enquired how I felt about the class I said ’sufficiently patronized actually”

Sucks to be you English teacher.  I had eight weeks of her home all day rolling her eyes at my inadequacies and I didn’t get paid for it.

So tomorrow on day two of the school year I will slow the car down in the general vicinity of the school/train station/bus stop, open the door and shout ‘tuck and roll!’ {cause I am kind and caring} and then rock the sans pants the second I walk in the door.

Mummy gunna shake her pantsless booty to some tunes while emptying the house of the debris of two months of accumulated shit treasures.

And I can’t wait.

So what do YOU do when you are all alone in the house?  I have FOUR DAYS left and totally open to suggestions.  Particularly anything that would fuck with my family’s minds.

Especially that Hobo.  Cause dude flashed his junk on public transport.

So today was my first day back at work after the two weeks of MADNESS, MADNESS I SAY!

I was feeling rather sore and tired and a tad overwhelmed after the awesomeness of the parties of awesome, so as I wandered in I gave my usual greetings to ensure that the entire office was aware that I was finally back and they could commence fawning over me, and I surveyed the destruction of my desk where some fucker was sitting while I was gone.

Bitch stole my scissors.  AND my favourite pen.  And fuck me dead she adjusted my chair.

I was ready to cut a bitch.  But I had no damn scissors.

Bitch.

As my fellow workers cowered at my wrath and pointed at each other for allowing some bitch to touch my shit, I spied a ‘private and confidential’ letter on my desk.

What the fuck?

I slashed open the letter, brandishing it in the general direction of my workmates, and settled down to read.

As I read a smile spread across my face.  A self satisfied, about fucking time, smile.

People gathered around to see what changed my mood so quickly.

I got a pay rise.  A performance based pay rise.

Because I am awesome.

And I have a piece of paper to prove it.

Awesome.

Today Moo turns 18.

EIGHTEEN.

This holy terror…

is now taller than me, but really no different except that beautiful blonde hair is now black and green.

When I woke this morning she was all ready awake, sitting up in bed all expectant.  PRESENTS!

Which is where the fucking with the mind comes in.

Moo has been lusting after a MacBook, desperately hinting and not so hinting at perhaps maybe we, if we loved her at ALL and were good parents, should purchase one for her birthday.  And we were all whatever brat, go and put the washing away.

And we bought one.  Of course.  Cause we are suckers.  And just a little bit afraid.  I mean LOOK AT THAT PHOTO!

But, you know, we couldn’t make it that easy for her so planted seeds of we couldn’t afford it and maybe she would prefer something more permanent, yada yada.

So last night I wrapped up an old ring case with a note:

OMG you should have seen her face!  It was priceless.  Totally ‘present face’.  You know the face you pull when you really really want something but you get some other shit and you are all ‘Wow! Thankyou! It is just what I wanted!’ and the whole time you are just dying inside.

Kinda like me on every birthday and Christmas.  Cause MOTY has NO CLUE when it comes to presents.

Anyway… the note directed her to the hall cupboard and there was the MacBook.  The new, shiny, just released MacBook.

*sigh*

And she lost her mind and has been playing on it ever since.  She probably wont shower.

Tonight we are going out to dinner with her friends to the place I went to on my 18th birthday.  How freaking COOL is that!

And we will be taking along her birthday cake.

A sushi cake with little asian girls, modelled on Kimmidoll.

The sushi is made of fruit rollups, LCM bars, red licorice and jelly snakes

the bowl of ’soy sauce’ and chopsticks are fondant

We have been walking around all day saying ‘So Kawaii’

I am considering dressing as a Harajuku girl.  But it wont embarrass her nearly enough for the effort involved.

Happy Birthday Moo.  I love you.

if you don’t understand this reference go here and here.

nighty night…

I just got my period.

Aunt Flo.

Riding the crimson tide.

You know the drill.

I have been ready to cut a bitch all day, craving chocolate and bacon and who is the motherfuckersonofabitch that ate all the potato chips?

Oh.  That would be me.

A little known fact about your hostess of awesomeness, I have a little condition called PCOS, which besides other little inconveniences, means that I never actually know when the Old Aunt will make an appearance.

Which makes this visitation kinda fucking awesome cause the bitch is ON TIME.  As in MPS found another fucking stupid little application for his ipod touch which he keeps calling his iphone because he is a wanker, called iMensies.  And it tracks mensies*.  Which I was totally under the impression that it was tracking a former Prime Minister of Australia which is kinda redundant cause we all know where he is, woulda been better if they were tracking Prime Minister Harold Holt when he went swimming that day and decided to take a nap with the fishes.  Which reminds me, how fucking AWESOMELY AUSTRALIAN is it that I was taught to swim in the Harold Holt memorial pool?  Fucking awesome that is.  I was all ‘Who is Harold Holt mummy?’ and she was all ‘He was a Prime Minster that drowned’ and I was all ‘Well that is fucking brilliant that you take me to a swimming pool with his name.  You got a fucking death wish for me woman?’ which I would have said if I wasn’t like five.

ANYWAY I am thinking that Apple may have mystical medical fucking powers** cause the thing was all ‘period due’ and the fucker CAME.

So I am totally nominating that little application for the Nobel Peace prize for curing PCOS and reminding me to have the equipment required in the house, rather than screaming from the little girls room ‘Holy FUCK!  MPSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!  Get your arse down to Safeway and don’t forget the damn chocolate!

I cannot wait till they update to cure the massive hormone zit brewing on my chin.

And then I am thinking about other applications that could make my life awesomer.  To increase my little place on earths awecimity to the power of eleven.

An iMop.

iWash

iBanana peeler

iPickupyourfuckingsocksbeforeIramthemdownyourfuckingthroat (that one wouldn’t actually do anything, just cheer me on while I do it and find me a brilliant lawyer for the aftermath.  Oh and call in iMop)

iRon.

Wait.  I already have one of those.

* I am aware that they are called ‘menses’, so all you little Professors and grammar nazis slip back under your rocks…

** I am also aware that Apple didn’t create the application, but they made the fucking ipod touch thingamagoobie.  Way to ruin a fucking story grammar Nazis!***

*** Nazis, Nazi’s, Nazii… whatthefuckever… where is the damn chocolate already!

Almost a year ago, soon after I started my new job I was convinced to increase my hours at work to four days instead of three.  And me being the super mum (in my mind) agreed thinking that I could do it all.

Cause who needs sleep anyway.  Sleep is for the weak.  Just ask my rave dancing son Boo.

It was going well for a while.  I managed to cram every freaking thing into one day, slowly letting this and that slide.

Then this happened, and I was all ‘meh, I can do all this shit one handed!  Watch me bitches!  I am awesome!’

And then the universe hit me over the head with this.  Literally.

And still I didn’t listen.  I was all ‘hand me the old lady drugs Dr Man, I gotz me shit to do!’

A few weeks ago I was sitting in the lounge on my day off, just did a shite load of washing and shopping and every other fucking thing around here cause dammit what is with these people and thinking that they can just fucking throw their shit any old place and I will pick it up after them and don’t get me started on the ‘there is nothing to eat’ shit when perfectly good food is rotting in the disgustingly feral fridge and when was the last time I cleaned it out OMG don’t think about it and I really need to bleach the tiles again cause I have no damn time to clean the floors properly and what fucking moron thinks that white tiles with light grey grout is a good idea in a four bedroom family home seriously they should have just chucked down some concrete and called it a day cause it would be a damn sight easier to keep clean… when I saw a mouse.

Fucker scurried across the floor and stood in front of the pantry looking at me.

Twitching its whiskers like it was saying ‘thanks for all the food you dirty bitch!’

And then it disappeared into the pantry.

And I lost my shit.

And realised that something had to give.

So I talked to my manager and tomorrow I start my new old life.

Three days a week.  Longer days, with no break.  Basically waking up and hitting the ground running until bedtime.  A change to the way I organise myself and my day but TWO days off in a row.

Two days to sit on my arse doing nothing.

I mean two days to be a housewife.  And do housewifey things.

Like watching day time tv and eating chocolate, downloading porn and going out to lunch with the girls.

I mean cleaning and baking, deep cleaning the skirting boards and volunteering at school.

And making awesomely nutritional meals from scratch like this:

from Geekology, where all good recipes come from.

I am gunna fucking rock this shiz.

I am so fucking happy I could spit.

I have lusted after you for years.

Dreaming of one day holding you in my hands, gently stroking my hand down your shaft.

My whole body shudders at the thought of owning you, possessing you, waking up knowing that you are there waiting for me.

Today I decided to take the plunge.  To give in to my desires.

To possess you.

Right now you are waiting for me in the other room.  I cannot wait to release you, like a gift to myself, grab hold of you and get you down right dirty.

Oh lover.  How you satisfy me.

Worth. Every. Fucking. Cent.

Kitchen shit turns me on.  What can I say… *snigger*

Now excuse me, my lover and I are about to go and get hot and sweaty in the kitchen.

This morning I woke pissed.

Tired.  Sore.  Arm achy stabby ratfucksonofabitching.

Moo with her head in the toilet bowl.  Vodka shots with her friends last night.

Luckily all the guys there were into each other rather than her. IfyouknowwhatImean.

My valentine snoring loudly and hogging the bed, Boo running around, ‘Horton Hears a Who’ on loop and fecal murals on the walls.

I made my presence known as I grumpily made my way to the lounge.  To my laptop.

And I found this in my emails.

Tanis and her boy.  (yes, I blurred his features for privacy, but believe me when I say his eyes are mesmerisingly beautiful.  Deep pools of chocolate)

And I wept tears of joy for my girl.  I love this chick so damn much and this little guy has no idea, yet, how very very lucky he is to be part of the Redneck clan.

Later, she sent more pics, but this is my favourite.

Congratulations babe.  Welcome back to the world of poopy diapers (or as we Aussies say shitty nappies).

Go on over to see more pics of him and read the story of how he came to be her son.  Makes for ugly cry reading.

And then my boy, my beautiful Boo, decided to make me dinner.

For the first time ever.

Chicken nugget thingies in the microwave with tomato sauce.

With hugs and pats on my sore shoulder thrown in.

*insert more ugly cry here*

Right now he is out in the yard getting covered in ash and every time I yell out to him that I am gunna kick his arse he calls back ‘Relax mummy!’

I am totally gunna kick his arse.  As soon as I am done smothering the little bastard in kisses.

Who needs chocolate and roses and weekends away to exotic hotels with no children and 24 room service with an awesome balcony and fluffy bathtowels where we can walk around naked for two days and sleep all we want?

ME ME ME!!! Do I have to tattoo that shit to your forehead MPS? Not me.

Happy Valentines Day my lovelies.

How was your Valentines Day/Saturday?