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This morning I lost a huge chunk of tooth from one of my back molars. It’s definitely due root canal treatment and fast…. which of course means big $$$$$. Up until this point in my life, I reckon I’ve easily spent $100,000 at the dentist. I have three titanium screws, and just about every tooth is a crown, and the majority have had root canals. I hate the bloody dentist for very good reason – I’ve got ample experience. But why blame my parents? I don’t feel angry towards my parents for anything really. They were shambolic, but as Mum was 21 when she became a mother, and Dad 23, they were mere babies who hadn’t even sorted their own lives out before embarking on the quest of being role models to four very rambunctious children. I don’t speak for my siblings, but I think they did the best they could do with the life experience they had, and I’m appreciative of my childhood for many reasons. With that said, my folks were of the 60s generation, when dreams of plastic homes (now fondly called McHouses), plastic food, and plastic lives became the norm, but also, most of the people they knew got plastic teeth. I always remember Mum or Dad’s falsies sitting in a glass of water in the bathroom or by the bed, and as you do, I figured when I grew up I’d naturally get falsies too. How could I not consider this a possibility when the two most prominent adults in my life had them? But dentists changed. They decided it was more important to save real teeth than take teeth out, and now, I don’t know of anyone getting falsies – a mouth of titanium screws sure, but not falsies. Because my parents didn’t have teeth to worry about, and because I grew up in a town that didn’t have fluoride in the water (apparently), and because no one ever checked if we were ever brushing our teeth properly, and because my parents chose to have a two litre bottle of soft drink with EVERY meal, three out of four of us have expensive mouths to maintain. My older brother Paul got lucky. He had braces and the treatment – including regular fluoride tablets – has meant his teeth are good. Lucky bastard. So here I am, facing a life-long challenge (and the expense) of maintaining my teeth, and if only we didn’t have that bloody soft drink every day? I am always appalled when I see very young children walking around with cans of Coke, or babies/toddlers drinking fruit juice from a bottle, and I want to say to the parents – don’t do it!! PLEASE, trust me! But it’s none of my business, and all I can do is work hard to ensure my lads have minimum sugary drinks and sweets, brush their teeth properly, educate them on how important it is to take care of their teeth and make them understand the potential long-term ramifications of not doing so. I’m planning on framing an X-ray of my teeth in their bathroom so they can see the consequences of bad dental hygiene. Hopefully it’ll do the trick or scare the shit out of them? In the meantime, I’d better call the bloody dentist and prepare to empty the contents of my wallet directly into his account. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

I know some of my hippy, anti-establishment, anti-capitalist mates might not agree with me here, but Donald Trump – what a guy. You seriously couldn’t make him up if you tried. I reckon he’d be a pretty interesting person to have dinner with – just think of the one-liners you’d walk away with? Not to mention the fabulous decor he has in his penthouse? Not my style for sure, but you’ve got to admire the garishness. Anyway, I bought Steve “Think Like a Billionaire”and as it has remained on his bedside table gathering dust for nearly a year, I thought I’d give it a crack. I’m glad I did. Being a huge fan of The Apprentice – his, the Aussie one, the British one, the Celebrity Apprentice and soon, the Asian Apprentice – this book gives you a little bit of access to his no nonsense headspace. The chapters are short, you’ll rip right through it, and while I know I will never be a billionaire – crikey surviving on four hours sleep a night is definitely not me – it was definitely a book that got me focused and motivated. He’s a never-give-up-kind-of-guy, he’s positive and passionate, and he walks the talk – not a common trait I’ve discovered. Somehow he got lucky early in his life – not because his family had money, but because he found his path to true success – he really loves what he does and while the billions certainly come (and go) with the role, what comes through most is his love of the game – as well as a love for a few nice luxury brands within the mix, and beautiful women of course. His advice isn’t typical and it isn’t a highbrow repetition of the motivation books out there. It’s a case of find what you love, get stuck into it, don’t accept no for an answer, and whatever you do, don’t listen to other people if it sits right in your gut – well that’s my interpretation of his philosophy. Essentially if you’ve got an idea, go for it and go fast, because great ideas, when not acted upon, die. Aint’ that the truth. He also recommends getting pre-nups and signing all of your own checks.  I’ve missed both opportunities – oh well. All in all, it was a cracking yarn and well worth a read. He’s certainly not everyone’s cup of tea, but he sure has learnt some interesting stuff in this life. What makes him interesting to me is he’s experienced the world in a way I will probably never experience, and that’s fascinating. I like him. I’m not striving to be a billionaire – millionaire maybe – but he’s one of the most intriguing people because under all the bluff, there’s something charming about him. I couldn’t explain it if you paid me. Two qualities I know I like – he doesn’t apologize for anything, and he can laugh at himself – a good quality. Just in case you’re interested, there are now 1,210 billionaires on the planet, with a combined net-worth of $4.5 trillion according to Forbes. However we can expect a new list out soon, and with Rolls Royce having its most successful year in its 100+ year history, I reckon there might be a few more on the billionaire list come March. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea PS: the new Season of Celebrity Apprentice is coming up and the original Hulk – Lou Ferrigno is in it this year – cool!!! PPS: Follow me on Twitter @withoutbollocks

Some Facebook friends made me aware of some exciting news last week – Kim, Khloe and Kourtney Kardashian are going to be made into limited edition Barbie pals – I mean, what next? BUT then I read the comments, and for me, the story starting getting strange. People are up in arms because apparently Barbie is a role model and people do not believe the Kadashians – who made sex tapes, got divorced after 70+ days, etc – would be good ambassadors for the Barbie brand. I think I must have missed that part of my education where Barbie was supposed to be a role model?  I mean, if I physically looked like Barbie, I’d be 6 foot tall, have a 39 inch bust and 33 inch hips. I suppose I got the big tits… Don’t get me wrong, I loved my Barbies. I got my early sex education from them before I even knew what sex was AND I got some early hair dressing experience, only realizing after the fact that their hair didn’t grow back. I was not happy having bald Barbie’s I can tell you, but it taught me a very important lesson – consequences. Mattel have done a good job in recent years delivering Barbie’s with professional careers, and while competing with knock-offs from China, they still reign supreme for little girls around the world. But most importantly, the Kardashians are probably a perfect choice to be Barbiefied. First of all, Barbie definitely bleaches her anus – to the point of non-existence – and Barbie was probably the first “girl” in the world to go for a complete Brazilian – definitely a trend-setter and right in line with the Kardashian’s personal grooming philosophies. Barbie has always been a glamour puss first, and that’s how I spent my Barbie play time – when I wasn’t making her hump Ken of course – dressing her up in fabulous fairytale gowns, just like the K  sister’s right? A perfect match. I certainly don’t join the outrage against the Kardashian’s becoming Barbies. I think it’s a match made in heaven, but if you’re interested, a few years back, a lady got some pretty extensive media coverage for making a life sized Barbie (pictured.) And another article referenced within this article talking about body issues linked back to Barbie. I have to say I find this argument hard to swallow, because within the mix of influences on young girls and body image, I’d say Barbie might be in there, but the real life beauties in bikinis on the front pages of magazines probably had a much MUCH bigger impact on me. I desperately wanted to look like Elle in a swim suit, but knew there was no bloody chance at all. And “Dolly Magazine” – a teen girl mag in Australia – was an equally powerful influence. How I wanted to look as good in those clothes as the models did. Barbie wasn’t even in my body image angst equation…. However, rather than becoming anorexic when I realized I could never look like those girls, I stopped buying all women’s/girl’s magazines, took up body building and started shopping for all of my clothes in second hand shops. I was a beauty, no doubt about it. Hey if you can’t beat them, go the other extreme I say. But that’s just my experience. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

I turned 42 on the 1st of January – thanks for all the lovely birthday wishes – but I have to say – it seems really old. While my mind still feels like I’m a ridiculous 18 year old (minus the teenage angst,) my body definitely feels 42. I remember when my parents entered their 40s thinking it was ancient and here I am. Crikey. But I’ve had a lot of fun getting here. If I look back over the decades, the first was fun, free and predominately consisted of running around the streets of Wodonga, barefoot and unsupervised. Sometimes I wonder how I survived that. Next was the confusing decade of the teenage years, trying to work life and me out, as well as adopting some beautiful styles – including my Mohawk (or Mohican as the rest of the world says), as well as making sure I was the hottest chick in town by taking up body building. I had very decent thighs and calf muscles in those days. I finished university in my early 20s and started with a stint as a musician in the Australian Army. It was at this time I had my first foray out into the big wide world via the Middle East, I started a great career in public relations and then I left Australia – a journey I feel I’ve continued to this day. London happened in this decade, and apart from the weather, I really really enjoyed my London days – personally and professionally. Then it was time for my 30s, which saw me ringing in the new millennium on my 30th birthday at my favourite pub in Boston. I loved living in Boston – especially during the Summer – which was followed by a short stint in NYC, but the bubble burst, the planes crashed into the towers and it was time to move again. Central America, Fiji, a fabulous year in Sydney, then I was Singapore-bound. Four months later I met the love of my life – an unexpected bonus in my 30s. As a result, I suppose my 30s have been about integrating my love into my life, creating a couple of little loves, and finding some combined direction. I turned 40 in Noosa with a gaggle of awesome friends, partying into the wee hours of the morning. At that point, I was determined to make Noosa work, but six months later we got some bad news and I knew I just had to get the hell out. Six months after that I turned 41 back in Singapore – the best decision we ever made. And now a year later, here I am wondering what my 40s are all about. You see I went to Holland last October to celebrate my great friend Saskia’s 40th and she stated that her 40s would be her decade of Zen. When Saskia said that I realized I’ve spent most of my life tearing around, experiencing and seeing as much as I can, always wanting more, but there has been very little long term focus. Heck Steve and I have only recently come to the conclusion that Singapore is where we want to be. There is nowhere else in the world that draws us, we have no backup plan and I have to say, that’s not an easy place to be. Practically everyone we know has somewhere they ultimately want to be, or a settled dream they are working towards – something we envy a little bit – but we just haven’t had that. The “normal” stuff has never appealed to me, and thankfully, Steve thinks the same. Direction, in a conventional sense, has always eluded us. However I’ve realised, for the first time in my life, that a little longer term thinking may be in order, and the decision to stay in Singapore is just the first part of the equation. But it’s more than that. We know we will remain open to opportunities that take us in new and unknown directions – because we believe that is the way to live – BUT core to all of this now, and my goal for this decade, is to be happy and content. I want to simplify my life – celebrating the moments, being there for my boys while they need me, spending time with my love, travelling, hanging out with great people, and taking and creating opportunities to help me grow. Being happy might seem like a facile thing to say, but when you are gung-ho all the time, it’s actually quite difficult to be truly happy. When you always have your eye on the next thing to come along or the next thing you want (and I’m not talking material stuff here), happiness and contentment isn’t easy to attain, because frustration tends to be a big part of your lot. Can anyone else relate to that? My 40s started off all over the place, and we couldn’t make the right decisions because we didn’t know what we really wanted, so we’ve learnt a lot these last few years and now, it’s time for a little bit of peace. Happiness and contentment – can I get there? Who knows, but at least I know I want to. That’s the plan. Something I ain’t had before. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

 2011 has been a very interesting year for us, and I can say the most common phrase in our home has been “we’re almost there, just keep going, stay positive.” Coming back to Singapore 12 months ago today remains the best decision we’ve ever made, but it was not an easy decision. This is not a place to be without the financial means to support oneself, so we’ve had our heads down, focused on building our business empire. We’ve had a lot of great success, but we are not at a plateau of ease yet – and that, more than anything, has been really really hard – let’s just say that my aching jaw from the constant uncertainty is testament to that fact. But 2012 is going to be our year of ease. I’ve never been one to make decisions that provide a smooth journey in life. I’ve picked up and moved countries seven times, and within that, the moves in-country would probably add up to about 70 or so, with more than 20 in the last three years. I know, what the hell is that all about? All I can say is I’ve never felt “settled” anywhere and up until this year, have never really wanted to settle in one place. Once I got a taste for this big magnificent world, I’ve never wanted to do anything but keep experiencing it. However things are changing – or maybe I’m getting old – as we have decided Singapore is our home, and as long as it will have us, we are very very pleased to be here. Singapore just works for us in too many ways to mention, but the most important thing is the boys love it here – this is definitely an amazing place for a young family. But Steve and I love it here as well, because while the rest of the world wallows in recovery, Singapore is boom-town, and with that comes hope and energy. We’ve also got a community of awesome friends here. It’s just great. A recent bonus was the return of our helper of two and a half years, Vicky, into our lives just over a week ago, and while she is recovering from a terrible personal tragedy, it is amazing having her back in our family. She is so beautiful and loving with the boys, and over the next 12 months, she is focused on getting herself sorted out in a way that means she can go back to the Philippines and achieve ALL of her dreams. We’ll do everything we can to make sure that happens, because she deserves the world. Knowing that we have her with us for the next 12 months will be the difference we need, because with Vicky backing us up we can conquer the world. Additionally, every time I see Vick, I am so grateful to her and because she lost her little love, I am even more grateful for my lads.  More than anything else, it is Vicky that will get us across that “almost there” chasm. We can’t do what we want to do without her, because our boy’s happiness remains our number one priority. The last two ladies we’ve had this year just didn’t have Vicky’s magic, and that took one of us out of the game, which we just can’t do right now. For me personally, I have loved being back. I’ve been able to work again – something that hasn’t been able to happen as much as I wanted since the boys came along. To say I’ve spent four years frustrated is an understatement, as Steve could attest to, watching me champing at the bit in my early years of motherhood – continuing to want it all. The thing I know for certain is I am most happy when I am working, and the best part of my working life now is I get to spend 90 per cent of it writing – both personally and professionally. My aim on returning to Singapore was to write, so that makes me very happy indeed. I am also thrilled to be back with old friends, but also making new friends everyday – people from all over the world, who have different ideas and values – and that is one of the things I love most about being in Singapore. The diversity of people I get to meet and welcome into my life.  I love that. So while we haven’t yet hit our threshold of ease, we now know it really is just around the corner, and we also know that 2012 is going to be a sensational year – with lots of travel, laughs, exciting work, success, fun – all the while surrounded by amazing friends who inspire us to be better people. That’s all we want and it’s nice to finally hit a time in my life where I’m OK to chill and take it all in. I don’t know why I’ve always needed to be on the move – hungry for more – but I know I’ve had an amazing life because of that hunger. Now it’s time to stop and smell the proverbial roses for a while. I can do that now, I’m ready, but please, don’t accuse me of settling. Anytime people mention the “S word” it makes me want to pack up and move on again. I won’t be having that. Although I do plan on buying a cat, and that, more than anything else, is a sign that I am standing still for a good while. It’s also going to be a Rex, if I can convince Steve – although I have mentioned that he doesn’t get a say in it…. With that I would like to wish everyone a very very Happy New Year, Happy New Holden – as some people from Wodonga like to say – and please ignore all of the doomsday predictions, be happy and be positive, because 2012 is going

Well it is almost upon us again – and I have no bloody idea where this year went – but I wanted to say Happy Holidays to everyone who reads my blog. I know most of you, but slowly people beyond my circle are reading it too, and I am very grateful for the support. As the Silly Season approaches, I hope everyone stays safe, drives slowly, keeps rugged up in the North, is sun smart in the South, and takes the opportunity to have a really great laugh, spend time with good people and relax. That’s what it’s all about after all. I didn’t get my shit together to do Christmas cards – maybe one day I’ll get on that horse again – so this is my card. A belated Salamat Ashura, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, a belated Happy Bodhi Day, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Yule, and Happy Zarathosht Diso – although I’m not sure a happy should be placed in front of that because it marks the death of the Prophet Zarathushtra – then again, Christians are known to say Happy Easter…. Here’s to 2012 – and despite the naysayers and doomsday predictions – I know that this is going to be the most amazing year yet. I’m a clairvoyant too don’t you know. Sending love and hugs all around the world. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea and her three lads Steve, Lex and Jax xxxxxx

Perhaps a Global Boycott of ‘Target’ is in Order? A friend from my Boston days, Erica, posted a link today about a “Nurse-In” scheduled to take place at all US Target stores nationwide on December the 28th. This follows a Texan Mom, MichelleHickman, reporting that she was bullied by Target employees for breastfeeding her child in-store while Christmas shopping. I know that this sort of stuff creates all sorts of reactions – many not supporting the mother in question – but I think this is worth exploring a little deeper. The article linked to a recent English boob-in and it also reminds me of another group of women staging a protest in Singapore a few years ago. Unfortunately I can’t find any coverage, but this happened because a Caucasian woman was kicked out of a cafe for breastfeeding. The next day, the cafe was mobbed by breastfeeding mothers and it got a lot of attention. The cafe naturally changed its policy. We’re almost in the year 2012 and this is still an issue? I mean come on. Is there anything more natural in the world than breastfeeding your baby? Look at the English article – people complained because they found it a disturbing sight while eating! And it’s not just men, women complained too. But the Target story really got to me for two reasons – the demographic most likely to shop at Target is lower-income earning women. They will shop not only for themselves, but for their entire family. Secondly, it is this group that is probably most at risk of being isolated in their early parenting years, and as a Mother who spent a lot of time in isolation for various reasons, this is probably the thing that concerns me the most. Mothers need to be able to get out in the world, so they’re not sitting at home, isolated and driving themselves crazy. Attitudes like this DO NOT help. So I have an issue with Target in this instance, but also any other organisation that claims to market itself to women – because lactating mothers are definitely part of this demographic and they need to be factored into the overall experience.  This is not the first time Target has been accused of “breast-causes-distress” behavior apparently – it happened in 2006, when a woman was shooed from the fitting rooms for breastfeeding. Target’s public response?   “Target has a long-standing practice that supports breastfeeding in our stores. We apologize for any inconvenience the guest experienced and will take this opportunity to reaffirm this commitment with our team members,” company representative Kristi Arndt said. “For guests in our stores, we support the use of fitting rooms for women who wish to breastfeed their babies, even if others are waiting to use the fitting rooms. In addition, guests who choose to breastfeed discreetly in more public areas of the store are welcome to do so without being made to feel uncomfortable.” Of course the discussion always moves on to other recommendations where women can breastfeed. I’ve heard people suggest women should go to their cars or public toilets to breastfeed. Now the car is do-able if you have one child – perhaps – and if it’s not -40 degrees outside and if you’re not in a behemoth shopping centre where it is going to take you 20 minutes at least to get to your car. Anyone with a screaming, hungry baby knows how long 20 minutes feels like. BUT public toilets? I was a discrete feeder and regularly found myself in public toilets feeding my boys. Let me tell you, Singapore is a hot and humid place, so this is NOT a pleasant thing to do. But it was my choice. The challenge with public toilets is most are filthy, stinking cesspools you want to escape as quickly as possible. Also if you are feeding a child in a toilet for at least 30 minutes – which is about right for most – someone is going to take a dump, and that is not a pretty experience for anyone. So, no, public toilets are not a great solution for the average woman who does not feel the need to hide away to feed her baby. Living in Asia the challenges of breastfeeding are quite different. As a general rule, most women do not feed their children for very long – it’s just one of those things. Even though I decided long before my boys were born that I would never, ever feed in public, I certainly would not do it in Asia. My gargantuan tits would have caused a stampede, more out of curiosity than anything, so hiding away was always my preference. Before I gave birth, I went to all of the shopping centres I expected to frequent with my babies and checked out their feeding facilities. Those who had great facilities got my custom. Those who didn’t still haven’t seen me back. However, as a general rule, Singapore has excellent feeding facilities and parent’s rooms – which was a bonus for shy me. I am appalled that Target does not have facilities for feeding mothers, and Target, it’s time to change. It’s simple. Make sure all of your stores world-wide have comfortable feeding rooms, with comfortable chairs and entertainment for older kids and do it now. Other stores targeting women and families should take note. Please also make sure these rooms are nowhere near the stink of public toilets and make sure they are cleaned often. There is nothing worse than being in a filthy room with your precious little baby.  Also put proper nappy disposal bins in the rooms – the stench of another baby’s boggy nappy has made me gag on several occasions. Secondly train your staff to be more sensitive and aware. There is no point issuing a statement that you support breastfeeding anywhere in your store if your staff is unaware of, or untrained in, this policy. There is nothing worse than dealing

 Book cover, as it appeared on allenandunwin.com Nick Vujicic was born with no arms or legs. In fact, he has two feet, but only one of them is functional – the foot he calls his “Chicken Drumstick.” This foot, and a very strong neck, have allowed Nick to become almost completely independent – something he has been determined to be from a young age. You’ve probably seen one of his YouTube videos at some point? Amazing guy, really really amazing. Nick has written a book – “Life Without Limits” – and I have to say, I’ve picked this book up, put it down and picked it up again too many times to count. Why? Because the description on the back of the book talks about his faith in God as the central pillar of his life. I do not have any issue with anyone believing in God or following whatever faith they choose, but rarely do I enjoy reading stuff by people who hand it all over to God. Nick is a very strong believer and his faith is definitely central to all that he does – and with or without God, what he does is incredibly inspiring and amazing. So I decided to get over my initial hesitations – because all perspectives are welcome in my life after all – and I’m glad I did. Living in a world where people fear imperfection, I still find it hard to imagine how his life has truly been. Just the story of his birth and his parent’s reaction to it was heartbreaking. But one thing for sure is that he has the most amazing attitude of any human being I’ve ever known. While he’s sure to have his bad days, as a general rule, he is one hell of a happy dude and throughout the book, he subtly challenges everyone to live a better, happier life, because if he has been able to find a path to happiness, with all of the limitations his body has thrown at him, then we can all do it. He looks at his lack of appendages as a gift to do God’s work, and I think that’s awesome. I was blown away by his experiences, how he’s overcome challenges, his determination, his attitude and so much more. Fantastic bloke, really fantastic, and while I don’t buy into his religious message, the book is so much more than that. If you know of anyone who needs a good kick in the arse, this book will certainly do it – and if they don’t read, he does videos.  Seriously, when you read about his limitations and how he’s overcome them with his attitude, there really can’t be too many people out there with an excuse to stay miserable for the long term. I mean he swims, loves fishing, plays golf, has surfed with the best surfers in the world and so much more. But his story of how he has also been humbled by people he has met is touching too – people with absolutely nothing have shown him great compassion. I really liked his chapter on being ridiculous – something he enjoys. And he’s so right, not enough adults are ridiculous these days and being ridiculous does feel good. He’s reminded me of that. Nick challenges everyone to be happy and to live life to the full because it’s the only one we’ve got, so why not? That’s a good challenge and he’s left me positively optimistic. Good on him. If you want to know more about Nick and his organisation, it’s Life Without Limbs. A great Christmas present if you’re out of ideas. Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

I’ve been thinking a lot about the lessons I’ve been learning on this parenting journey- after the fact of course – and thought it might be good to share a few and hopefully it’ll inspire other parents to share as well. The first HAS to be “What you Resist, Persists.” I can’t remember who made me aware of this, because it took me some time to “integrate” this philosophy into my “parental psyche,” and it was only then that I recognised there were many things I needed to stop resisting before they would go away – if this philosophy was true. Having two lads 15 months apart has been intensely challenging. The main issue is when they’ve gone through their growing up stages that results in enormous anxiety and annoyance for the parents – such as running on the road, flying down stairs, leaping off tall buildings, and so on and so forth, all with no awareness for their safety – is the duration. As a result of the age gap, we’ve never had a break to recover from the stresses and strains it causes, because our “stages” have overlapped and then some, as they egg each other on. All parents know that these hair raising stages are challenging at the best of times, so having them for twice as long is not much fun.  Lex, in particular, is the child I’ve had to really practise the art of not resisting. With his hearing issues he lost two senses – hearing and smell. As a result, he resorted to exploring the world with his mouth for much longer than most kids do. While his oral exploration has significantly lessened since his operation – now only flaring up when he’s stressed or anxious, not to mention I know within the next few months it will stop all together – a couple of years ago it was hell. The shit that boy would pick up and put in his mouth – let me say it used to make me feel sick down to my toes. Naturally it got a VERY strong reaction from Mummy and Daddy, and so it continued. I was resisting it so strongly, because it revolted me so strongly. Then one day I said, “knock your socks off mate, it’s your mouth, your body, go for it.” And then it just pretty-much stopped. That was my first lesson in not resisting, and I’ve got to tell you, this lack of resistance really does work. Jax is going through a stage at the moment, waking up at some point in the night and climbing into our bed. Lex is a pleasure to sleep with, Jax is NOT. He sleeps on your head, kneads you with his feet, is constantly moving, loves to stroke your hair (mine obviously, he shines his Dad’s noggin) or speak to you at 3am – I could go on. As any parent knows, constant night time interruptions are brutal for the mind and body, so as a result, Steve and I are walking around like zombies. However, we recognise that, for whatever reason, Jax needs us right now, and we figure if that’s the case, he is welcome. Jax is not a “needy” kid, so he’s obviously feeling a little insecure about something and we’re committed to helping him though that – whatever the cost to us. While I appreciate that some parents think children in the marital bed is wrong, we have never thought so. Our philosophy is if they need us, we are there – but we do suffer the consequences. The truth is we know that if we let it be and accept the need, one day very soon it will stop – especially because Jax LOVES his sleep.  But if we resist it, Jax will continue for much much longer. I’ve applied this philosophy so many times, in so many situations, and it has worked. For example when the boys go through whining stages – OH PLEASE STOP WHINING – I just switch off and let them be. They stop. I also take the opportunity to reflect often, which gives me the opportunity to really see where I’ve been resisting behaviour, which means it has a tendency to continue. When I recognise my resistance, I stop, take a chill pill, and let them be. It’s working for me. So there you go. I think “What you Resist, Persists” has worked in lots of areas of our lives, and with my kids I have recognised it as a powerful tool in my parenting arsenal. It also makes my life easier and takes away a lot of the anxiety I feel as a parent. I would love to know any other great lessons learnt? In the meantime, I’ve got a few more I’ve picked up along the way I’ll share at some point. I think Lesson #2 is “Don’t Fight the Fashion Wars.” Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

I spend a lot of time wondering why I was gifted with two magnificent children. I look around at other Mums and in many aspects, I am lacking. Take these last two days. I decided it was my turn to participate in the school activities leading up to Christmas. First up yesterday it was Jax’s turn for a bit of carol singing – no problem. Then as I got in the car to make the dash to school, I ripped the inside of my linen trousers and had to spend an hour sitting on the floor making sure no one saw my snatch. At least I participated in “She’ll be Coming Round the Mountain” with some gusto – yes I know, not exactly Christmassy. However, the bit of the memo I missed was that we were supposed to take a plate, so while everyone else turned up with beautifully decorated cupcakes, fruit on sticks and gourmet sandwiches, scabby old crotch-less me turned up empty handed. Today it was Lex’s turn and we were going to build a gingerbread house. All the Mum’s and Dad’s were outside waiting, sharing the usual awkward small talk that happens when people don’t really know each other that well – yet. Then the kids were dispatched from their classroom, but I noticed that all of them were carrying plastic bags. So I asked Miss Lucy – Lex’s adorable teacher – if he had one. She looked at me and said “it was in the memo – you were supposed to bring all you needed to build the house.” Awesome…. it seems I’ve missed another memo, so what should we do? I was directed to an art section under the stairs, grabbed a bunch of recycled stuff, and raced back for the exercise. We were sharing a table with the love of Lex’s life, Alice and her Mum Charlotte – who does enjoy this sort of stuff. It was very pleasant, and because Alice loves her arts and crafts, she was very enthusiastically building a tower-like structure, decorated in lovely ribbons and buttons. I sat there with my son, who is so much like me it’s scary, and thought what the bloody hell am I going to build, because Lex certainly isn’t going to help? I could feel the anxiety brewing, like I was back in the classroom many years ago, required to participate in art exercises – something I HATED! And Lex is definitely taking after his mother in this regard.   So we did what we could. I started by painting a box red (Lex’s favourite colour), stuck it on a flat piece of cardboard, and the highlight of the proceedings – we added a vertical green wall to appeal to Steve’s engineering background. Not that I could get the bloody thing engineered in a way that it stayed upright of course. At this point, Lex decided we needed grass for the green wall – see he’s smart if not artistic. He headed off, and while I was fussing around with the box (the sweat starting to pour from my brow), he started hacking big palm leaves off a plant in a pot. I didn’t really notice when he brought back a bunch of branches, and then sat down happily cutting off every individual leaf. When that lot was done, he ran and got some more leaves to cut up. There wasn’t much left of the poor plant in the end – sorry! Jax had joined us by this point, because my children cannot accept the other getting attention from Mummy without getting in on the action. Jax decided to paint the green wall – he’s definitely more artistic in that way – and within about a 20 minute window, we had a humungous pile of leaves, all completely covered in paint, there was glue everywhere, and my Coach bag and shoes had gone from black to an assortment of primary colours. Suffice to say, it was a bloody mess, the house looked like something from Hell, and rather than go back and join the Christmas carols, we had to stay and clean up the carnage left by my two lads. It’s just not me this arts and crafts stuff. I know I’m creative in lots of ways, but painting, cutting, building, etc…. no no no.   Steve thinks it’s hilarious of course, but he doesn’t appreciate how much I wished just a little bit of me was capable of doing this sort of stuff with the boys. With all that said, if we’d just read both memos, I would have been off to a much better start in both activities, but memos seem to get sucked into our house, never to be seen again… Please tell me I’m not the only parent crap at this stuff – please??? Yours, without the bollocks Andrea