April 2014

In the last six months, something has changed in Singapore. Everywhere you go truffles are on the menu. Not the whole truffle, just the flavoring, so when you want to order a simple little portion of French fries to soak up some booze or push the hunger pains away, you get truffle with that! Can I tell you something? I BLOODY HATE TRUFFLES! I despise truffles. I hate the way it smells. I hate the way it tastes. I hate its texture. I just hate truffles. I couldn’t give two shits it’s worth more than gold by weight, nor could I give two shits that it’s considered haute cuisine outside of its traditional countries – i.e. France, Italy, Greece, Spain, etc… It just tastes like shit to me, and now I can’t avoid it. I’ll always remember Steve and I having our first date after Lex was born. Some friends invited us to an Australia Day gathering and it was an awesome night, all except the Michelin Star chef added truffles to EVERY dish – even the bloody ice cream. Steve looked over at me and gave me the look – he knew exactly what I’d think of that. Ugh! Thankfully the company was great, we had an awesome night, I ate around the truffles (not that you ever really can) and Steve was in his element because he loves all sorts of weird and wonderful food. In Asia truffles are on the menu because people love luxuries in this part of the world. There’s a lot of money here and people like to spend it on the good stuff – with food front and center of that value chain. There is a reverence around food and family in Asia that is quite inspiring for me. Just check out your Asian friend’s Facebook posts – pictures of food right? It’s important. But here’s a little fact for my truffle eating friends. The truffle you are eating is not even truffle. Check out the Truffle Oil section on Wiki and you’ll see you’re eating artificially flavored truffle using a synthetic agent. So who’s posh now? As you can tell, I just don’t like it, don’t like it at all, and now, every bar and restaurant I walk into is oozing with the smell of truffles. Even if I don’t order it, when someone at the next table orders a dish it just makes me want to vomit on their plate because I can SMELL it! I even ask for no truffles added, but a little bit always makes it in and I can ALWAYS taste it. Life is not as bright with truffles in it I must say. Anyone else notice this trend and struggling with the rancid stench of truffles? Or are you more aligned with my husband’s pleasure in eating this expensive fungi? Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

My boys It should come as no surprise to my faithful readers that this motherhood malarkey has not been exactly smooth sailing for moi. Many has been the moment, when the boys are doing my head in, that I find myself metaphorically screaming to the world: “WHEN, EXACTLY, does this mothering job actually become fun?” I never did get an answer. However, I can tell you one thing. When people have seen my expression and decided to say: “oh it goes so fast, try and enjoy it” – what? Why? IDIOT! These people really had no idea how close they were to the end of their lives. It hasn’t gone fast, not gone fast at all. So in future, can I suggest one thing to people inclined to say “it goes so fast” to a parent on the edge? How about giving this a go: “I am totally with you sister (or brother), it’s completely shithouse isn’t it? And guess what, it never gets better!” That, at least, would stand a chance of getting a smile out of me in my moment of anguish. Rarely has a fellow parent reached out to me like that. In fact, I don’t think they ever have. I’ve done it though, because I know how much it’s needed sometimes. I suppose we still live in a world where Mum’s just don’t admit to this stuff… but for me, that’s not healthy. Parenting has been the hardest, most frustrating, most grueling, most exhausting, most overwhelming experience I’ve ever had. So sister, if you find yourself screaming to the universe when your kids are doing your nut in, know I am with you and will never be stupid enough to say “it goes so fast” – I promise. I’ve loved my little guys with an intense passion since the day they were born. I’ve also done everything I could to give them a life of love, safety and happiness. But it just hasn’t been a lot of fun much of the time. It’s been a day-in-day-out grind, and that is not what I was expecting motherhood to be. Then again, I had no expectations of motherhood at all, because how can you know this stuff in advance? Obviously having a child that couldn’t speak or understand me for much of that time didn’t help; but even then, one of them could speak and understand, so it’s not all that. My gorgeous family However in recent months, both of my boys are blossoming into independent, chatty, funny little guys. They’ve chilled out spectacularly (except when they go through growth spurts and boy they get emotional don’t they?) and spending time with them is becoming much more of a pleasure for everyone. It’s less random, less chaotic. There are even periods when they sit still and chill out. It’s awesome. I also love the conversations we have. I love their observations of the world. I love watching them grow into really caring, loving young men, with impeccable manners to boot. And we never insisted on the manners thing. I didn’t want to be one of those parents whispering in their ear telling them to say thank you all the time. Sure I do it sometimes, but mostly, they say thank you because they want to. Or they hold doors open for ladies because their Dad has told them “ladies first.” I’m brewing up two lovely gentlemen it seems – sweet. That’ll get ‘em the ladies when they grow up a bit. But they’re cooler now and that means we’re cooler, but it all means that Steve and I are finally enjoying being parents. We like enjoying it. It’s all we’ve ever wanted really. Bloody kids. I have no idea why we had them, I’d never send them back, and while it’s been one hell of a bumpy journey so far, it’s so worth it! My little dudes are chilling out and that is AWESOME. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea