The A to Z of Lisa

A is for Awesome, my word of the year. 

It's also for Asshats who I'm always near. 
B is for Baby, asleep like a log.

For me, time for wine and a good chance to blog.

C is for Childcare. Hooray for Monday!
The twins will play there for a part of the day.
D  is for Daddy. Can you please come home soon?
The darlings are feral. Must be that damn moon.
E  is for Energy, something I've not.
Need more time in the day to clean after my lot.
F is for fighting. That's all the kids do.
Five feral children - we'd planned for just two.
G  is for Good Grief, God Lord and Good God.
Words that escape me as I lose my wad.
H  is for Happy. For the most part it is.
It's a hectic and hellish and heavenly shiz.
I is for Ignore. Pick my battles I try.
That's crap and you know it. I rant and I cry.
J  is for Jam - man, that shit is sticky.
It's stuck in Lil's hair, now it's matted and icky.
K  is for Kalm, if you spell it with K.
But you don't and that sucks so move on I say.
L  is for Love. Despite what you think,
My kids - I do love them - they don't always stink.
M  is for Mummy, Mum, Muuuuuum, Mama, Mother.
They shout it from one end of the house to the other.
N  is for Nappies. I'm sick of this shit. 
So for two out of three kids the toilet they'll sit.
O  is for Organised - something I need.
My mind is all busy, it needs to be freed.
P is for Paint - what I have on my wall.
Along with the scribble, the boogers and all. 
Q  is for Quiet and the sleep that I crave.
No questions, no quarrels, the kids will behave.
R  is for Rhyme. I'm not a good poet.
I'm not a good writer. And this doesn't rhyme.
S  is for Swearing. I do it too much.
My kids speak like wharfies - they copy me such.
T  is for Tea. Never know what to cook
To make everyone happy and to not fucking sook. 
 U  is for Uni. I'll finish one day.
A change in career is headed my way.
V  is for Vego. My son's one of those.
If I serve him meat, he'll just turn up his nose.
W  is for Weight. It's a struggle for me.
I'm losing a bit, not enough yet to see.
X  is for X Rays. A lot we've had lately.
Not just our bodies, our wallets hurt greatly.
Y  is for Yawn. It's sleep that I need.
I'm constantly buggered from rearing my breed.
Z   is for Zoo. It's the place I call home.
I love it. I hate it. But I'll never roam.

The A to Z of Lisa, linking up with Deb and all the other amazing bloggettes at Home Life Simplified's Listmania extravaganza. Go have a look!

Leave me a message, please!!! It's so lonely here by myself.

'Tis the Season

I love Christmas! No, seriously I really do. I love the smell of Christmas, the excitement of children, and the sparkly glitteriness of decorations that would make a Gypsy Wedding seem modest.

As November comes to an end, I feel it may be time to hit the shopping centres in search of perfect presents for everyone. I've left internet shopping a little too late for timely delivery, so I will inevitably have to drag the Wondertwins and beautiful Scarlett into the frantic world of last-minute shopping.

This will be an exciting Christmas for 

Grace and Lily. This is the first Christmas the girls understand that a big dude dressed in red with a great fluffy white beard will visit them and leave gifts if he thinks they have been good girls. Ha! This is also the first Christmas I can effectively use Santa as a motivational carrot. I can dangle that big bad boy in front of them every time I need/want socially acceptable behaviour, particularly in public. 


Grace, please stop hitting Lily. Do you want Santa's elves to see you? They'll tell Santa you're being naughty.

Lily, if you don't stop that tantrum and get up off the floor I will call Santa. Here I go. I'm doing it. I have Santa's number in my phone. Dialling him now...

A few years ago, when I told Ella that I would call Santa to dob on her for bad behaviour, she said "I know you won't call him because I looked for his number in your phone and it wasn't there." "Well, for your information, Miss Smarty-Pants," I said, "It is in there, but why would I keep it listed under 'Santa'? I've got to keep it top secret. It's the rules." BOOM. That shut her up.

I also feel a little nostalgic around Christmas time. This is a time when my mum would be busily making the Christmas pudding to be hung wrapped in it's canvas to 'set'. She would also be preparing for the massive wintery feast of roast beef, turkey, pork and crackling, and gluten-free Christmas cake - all to be served hot from the oven on what could possibly be a 30 - 40 degree Melbourne summer's day. She would do all this without air-conditioning, while everyone else sat lazily in the lounge room or played with their new toys outside. Bless her.

Now that she has passed, I have taken on the role of Christmas chef and hostess with the help of my younger sister, Debra. It was assumed when Mum died that the Christmas dinner died with her. I felt as the eldest in the family, married with kids, I should take over this annual feast. That and the fact that I am bossy and like to take charge. I actually love keeping the family's tradition of making a huge hanging pud - a recipe passed down the ranks - and stressing and sweating it out in the kitchen. It's not without it's challenges. Last year the microwave karked it and the year before that the oven did, and I spent Christmas Eve at my sister's house cooking three types of animal over 8 hours and travelled the 15 kilometres home with the most delicious smells in my car. 

This year, Tim suggested I cook a turducken. It's a large turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken with stuffing in-between each bird. Sounds delish.

Mmmm...turducken lickin' good.

But as Campbell is now a vegetarian, I will have to give him a tofucken. How wrong does that sound? It's tofu and other miscellaneous meat substitutes. Mmm, mm. I think I'll stick to the normal meal plan.

What's Christmas like in your neck of the woods? 

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