Mummyfried

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...

Below are key messages I would like to deliver to management... That's right, to Mummyfried (the boss of the boss:  my own alter ego)  the big boss upstairs, the vertically challenged bosses I gave birth to, the bosses at the paid place of employment:  To Mummyfried:  Stop the 60 -70 working week and dreams about really being a tall, blonde, athletically thin, dedicated houseproud yummy mummy and fabulous friend. It's not working. Take a stand. Get to it and sort it out. (Stop being a slave to the system, eating, and start exercising! the rest will follow). To the ankle-biter bosses: The days of empty threats are over. You fail to pick up, I promise to throw out!  My feet deserve a lego free walking path environment!  To the boss upstairs. Give me a break. Please? Like, a real one? A lottery ticket, a wealthy uncle who wants to hand it all over, a warm hug, and some hot chocolate? Please? Don't carry me leaving footprints in the sand, if I fail to act on th...

Today I attended an emergency session with a child specialist. I knew deep in my heart, the problem wasn't with either of my children. The problem was / is with the child in me. That sensation of fear, guilt, shame suddenly engulfed me during the session.  What was I doing here? All along, I knew the truth, but for some reason, I had to hear it from a trained professional. I paid 100 euro to hear what my heart had been telling me all along. It was time to grow up - take responsibility and change the circumstances I had created. Without fear.  I had made a decision, the right decision and I failed to communicate that clearly to the children.  I was not acting with confidence - but with great sadness  - and this had caused confusion. I expected the children to accept a change that was better for them in the blink of an eye. They are not that adaptable,. It took me a little over two years to take the courage and gumption to take a positive step. How was it t...

Last night Mr Lucky and I had programming fall out.  The girls quietly moved into the toy room adjacent to the lounge-room and played quietly. A live political debate was on last night, inconveniently at the same time that 'I am Cait' was on TV. I won't go into detail as to who wanted to watch what. It goes without saying that I wanted to watch the more important, intellectually challenging, 'I must watch this to be better informed, it affects everyone globally' program. We began our own intellectual debate, introducing valid arguments such as... 'I am ironing in front of the TV now, please help me get through unprecedented and painful experience by allowing my brain to be simultaneously stimulated' to 'but I haven't had a moments peace today... the girls are happily entertaining themselves and do not need constant supervision - let me have just a little down time' Strong, valid, emotive arguments.  We are both Sagittarians, you know ...

Since 1 January 2015 and perhaps a little before then, I have been missing in action (MIA). Aside from close friends, Mr Lucky and the ankle biters noticing, my MIA status suggests the following state of play: 1. Every one else has started the new year with much gusto and madness and they haven't had time to notice I am missing. Let's face it,  2015 to date has been operating on warp speed - I haven't had time to notice if anyone else is missing too. 2. My stats regarding my readership or followers are incorrect - nobody reads my blog.  I don't really want to explore this further but there is an ever so slight suggestion (I really hope not) that my blogs are.... floating in dead, unread, uninteresting space in the WebSphere. In January I submitted a public service contract role application and got the job. The job, while mostly in English, requires Greek. This, like my readership statistics is a challenge and requires some attention. Also since January I: Packe...

Last week Mr Lucky and I celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary. We didn't do anything remarkable to mark the occasion.  We went out to our favorite restaurant for dinner with the kids. It was nice but nothing to rave about. We generally break tradition - rarely giving each other gifts appropriate for the number of years we are married. Thankfully. Buying lace for Mr Lucky would have been interesting. As a side note, I only know we should have exchanged a lace gift - as I researched it for this particular blog. Otherwise I would have remained in the dark. Thirteen years have flown. In those years we have moved three countries, produced two beautiful children, have each fought illnesses we probably both wondered quietly if we would ever get healthy again, So here we are. Certainly not at the end of our separate and combined adventures in life. I can't remember what we did or how we celebrated each and every anniversary. Last year we had both kids so sick - we ...

I never thought I would witness my fingers typing this sentence. It's cold and very wet. Each time I go out - I have to try to make myself as waterproof as possible. And I hate it. There, I typed it and it's true. I normally celebrate the cold. It means wearing lovely warm jackets, skivvies, warm socks (no need to paint my toe nails), sleeping with a duvet, drinking port... the list goes on. I used to love the fact I could cover up bumps and lumps for a good season. I didn't mind that my European skin would turn off white (OK, fleuro). Where has this grumpy woman come from? Close to a decade in cold, wet, dark, lovely London and I rarely complained about the weather (well, only London's summers, which I found unbearable). What is this sudden change? Is it age? Is it because of the children? It's not because it gets dark early.  Greece is an 'any time' city.  Children's activities begin at 6 pm. Doctor appointments can be at 8 pm.  Going out a...

There are lots of things I love about Greece. One thing is the food. There is only one word to describe it, delicious. Another is how child friendly it is.  Greeks absolutely love children, and children that receive their love and adoration are happy little campers.  My cherubs suck up the attention like a sponge does water. Before moving to Greece, eating out would be a stressful initiative (for me mostly).   Sensing my anxiety, my cherubs would turn ‘Chucky’ throwing food and morphing cutlery, glasses and plates into deadly weapons. In Greece it’s a more relaxed affair.  Staff and patrons are used to children wondering around restaurants and tavernas.  A broken glass is a problem only because staff worry that the bits of glass are dangerous, not because it was broken in the first place. We recently were in Athens and dined at the Hotel Grande Bretagne’s GB Roof Garden Restaurant. My old stress levels returned.  I couldn't shake my old mantra ‘...

I confess quite easily to having a few phobias.  They're nothing to be proud of, they're things that need to be worked through. I am a germaphobiac.. If I was a more confident person, I would happily wear surgical gloves and masks on public transport, I would have all public toilets cleaned before my use. Anti bacterial hand gel and wipes are in my close circle of friends. I suffer from TOTPAS (you will need to read a previous blog entitled TOTPAS and Balloons   to learn more about this serious ailment). I would prefer to be under anesthetic when visiting the dentist (so much so that I obsessively clean my teeth to avoid ever needing to visit. I hate taking my cherubs to the doctor to be immunised. I find it incredibly stressful so much so that Mr Lucy normally does the honors and I sit in reception my arms open wide waiting to console and cuddle. It was The Baby and Little Miss' immunisation day yesterday.  I was so worked up about this double whammy that Litt...

Mr Lucky and I met and fell in love in Greece nearly nineteen years ago.  We hold a village in Thrace responsible. It is a small friendly village largely untouched by the outside world.  A few nature lovers looking for an eco friendly holiday come here to relax, fall in love with the countryside or take ride bikes, go horse riding or trek. Called Tychero, a direct translation means lucky but mix it up a little as a turn of phrase it also means fate. We returned to Tychero with our two mini me’s (my girls) to find Tychero largely unchanged. Sure, the  financial crisis has hit it hard, empty shops and a few residents appearing a little frazzled. But this current look is reminiscent of any Greek village, town or city. The village and it’s inhabitants continue to retain it’s beauty, warmth, and charm. We decided last minute to drive to Tychero.  We booked the hotel the night before. We hadn't had contact with anyone in the village for close to twenty years. ...

A friend and I recently exchanged war stories about our families.  We slowly, tentatively revealed our scars.  I think she showed me all of hers. I couldn’t. Mine are far too deep, too many to show all at once. I glossed over some recent incidences, the last ones that prompted me to yell ‘Enough’ for that final time. She didn’t say much. She is a great believer that people come into and out of our lives for a reason.  So too do all experiences, good and bad. Sometimes I think she is an earth angel. Here to bring support, guidance and honesty.  Other times I think she is just a good new friend. Either way, I am happy she is in my life.  ‘You were simply born into the wrong family’ she said. What a revelation. Honestly. I had never thought about it that way. I agreed and realised that is the simplest, nicest and most honest way to describe my relationship with my family. I don’t share their life values. I don’t agree with their rules, judgments and lif...

‘Even after so many years, you’re all loved up’ a friend once yelled at me. Her accusation resonated for some time. Should I feel guilty? Happy? What prompted her to say such a thing with such contempt?  When I asked, she said she could just tell that we got along well and she wanted the same thing.  I didn’t know how to answer that. Mr Lucky and I are loved up. We are very different in many ways, and at the same time quite similar. We still are individuals in our own right.  And yes, of course it’s not always a  given, we work at it. Well, Mr Lucky is truly a patient man.  He often waits for me to remove my foot from my mouth, only to shake his head in disbelief as I replace it with the other.   He is not perfect either. He shakes his head when I swap feet. That is wrong. Because we arrived in Greece as an already made family as opposed to a growing one (which is what we were in the UK), not many ask how long we’ve been together, or where we met etc....