Mummyfried

Summer – the season of beach outings, golden tans, and those magical evenings under the stars . Usually , this is the time of year when we’re all about mobility, late nights, laughter, and just being outdoors - even in the heat - but things took an unexpected turn. I recently had surgery, and my summer plans have a different kind of journey: recovery. It’ll take up to two months to get back to my usual self . I am a little frustrated and bored . Instead of the 6 am morning dip before - and the sneaky plunge after work - I’m stuck indoors, staring at the ceiling with the air con on FULL. I can’t sit for too long , can’t stand for too long – it’s a delicate dance of finding the least uncomfortable position .   And that ceiling - its bland. But there’s a silver lining . For the first time in 30 years (yes, I am old) , my mom has come to care for me . It’s been a heartwarming (and sometimes heart-wrenching) experience. Her care is nothing short of amazing . The foo...

Navigating single parenthood with a neurospicy teen is like embarking on a rollercoaster ride filled with twists, turns, and sudden loop-de-loops of emotions. The incredible highs and deep, dark lows make this bittersweet and wild journey not for the faint of heart. Realizing that my understanding of my child's therapy needs surpasses even that of their world-class therapist is a jolting revelation akin to walking into a glass door. Hours spent observing, learning, and seeking guidance leave me questioning the very purpose of therapy and its effectiveness. The sound of my child's tears echoing through the night serves as a haunting reminder of my perceived failure as a parent, despite my unwavering dedication. The cocktail of autism, character, teenage angst, and daily pressures, often brings tears daily, to the one experiencing the challenges, and the one wanting to shoulder the pain. What many refuse to realise through their eyes and stances of pity - is that my neurospicy ch...

So, remember how I was gearing up for my dental odyssey in January? Well, folks, grab your popcorn and settle in because the saga continued until two weeks ago. I just forgot to blog about it! I wish I could say that my search for the perfect dentist ended with a triumphant fanfare, but alas no. A hard fast NO. The dentist I was assigned to tried her best to be understanding of and  she stayed quiet. She let the sound of the drill penetrate my eardrums (is that possible) at a level that was just plain awful. No swearing, no exaggerated description needed here.  This is not a creative written piece... this is trauma therapy - it was just plain horrifying.  Midway through my dental ordeal, she struck a nerve. I mean a real one. And caused some serious damage. I sat up, told her she was done, and left traumatized. Did I mention the pain? Really? Did I not mention the pain?  I lived with it for two weeks. Two weeks of sleepless nights, a swollen mouth and a throbbing tha...

As the sun begins to dip toward the horizon on my two-year journey with the School Parents and Guardians Committee, I find myself navigating a sea of nostalgia and frustration. It's been quite the adventure, filled with highs and lows that have left their mark on my heart. I stepped into the role of secretary (despite my lack of Greek) with lofty ambitions of revolutionizing our local school community with global best practices. Little did I know the whirlwind of emotions and experiences that awaited me. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion, the perimenopausal rollercoaster, or the stress from work, but this school, nestled in the sunny coastal suburbs of Athens with just 200 students, has become more than just a place of education for my kids—it’s my second home - a place to rest. Balancing the desires of my children has been like walking a tightrope with fire underneath. One demands my participation at every turn, while the other wishes for invisibility at the school gates. It's a del...

 Since February, I have been strutting into a fabulous office, to do a fabulous job, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to conquer the day at this incredible award winning genuinely professional communications agency.  And let me tell you, this place is like the Olympics of professionalism—energetic, dedicated, and responsive, just like yours truly. Let's talk about the boss lady. She's like the superhero version of who I want be when I grow up—smart, hilarious, down-to-earth, and has enough energy to power a small city.  An inspirational leader (who is younger than me, but let's leave that alone). I'm not exactly living that glamorous life. I'm a single mom to two not so tiny terrors who make mornings feel like a battlefield. Getting my moody teen out of bed is like trying to convince a bear to do ballet. And then there's the epic showdown of getting dressed, where I'm basically the ringmaster in a circus of chaos. Meanwhile, the 11 year old baby is wa...

I am gearing up for some impending dental drama next week. I am facing the reality of not one but five fillings and cannot help but feel fear. Plain, clear, unmanageable fear.  The search for an appropriate dentist is harder than finding a 50-something single, unscarred man. Unlike dating, (where you just don't have to do it), I have to continue with dental treatment, all the while trying to find the one. THE ONE PERFECT DENTIST. The appointments next week are mercifully broken into two sessions. The urgent fixes followed by the not so urgent. In preparation for next week, I came clean with my dental phobia. The poor dentist allocated to me is now privy to my irrational fear of dental work, a revelation that will earn me a starring role in daily water-cooler conversations. Back in the day, before my move to Greece, I used to frequent a dentist who specialised in treating children. He had two adult patients. Mummyfried, any dentist's dream patient - and my friend who referred me...

For those who do not know me, I am not particularly comfortable around animals. I selectively pet dogs and avoid cats like the plague. I think household pets are seriously smarter than what we give them credit for. Find a good docile attentive owner - and the ideal lifestyle is created. This gives any human like me, watching from afar hope to be reincarnated into a household pet. Birds are as close to my heart as my love of hard labor on a summer’s day. Fish are to be eaten, or left to navigate the planet's plastic polluted waters. They definitely should not crammed into a small round fishbowl or not flushed down the toilet when they die. We live in a dog-friendly and dog-loving leafy area, decorated with an enormous sprinkle of dogshit. This means I walk around the area with a not-so-happy or light spring in my step.  My discomfort goes further. I simply can’t deal with houses that smell like animal. Despite the above, I often find myself in the distasteful position of having cats...