the fifo wife

I woke up to this this morning. It brought a smile to my dial and more than a tear or two to my eye. A comment left from a post..unedited..from my beautiful husband from yesterdays post.

I love this blog!!!! its like getting the casual chat that we might have at home yet while i am out here. I will admit that from the first time that i ever rang FIFO Wife after she gave her number (firstly to see if it was not a hoax number she might give to the guys to brush them off) I was hooked. I needed to talk to her again and again to get that fix she is addictive. She is my piece of home, she finishes the puzzle that is our life and I always get a better feeling when it is an unexpeted call; it warms me knowing it did the same, short and sweet, our fly bys as you may say. The new way of the old hidden notes you would find in your wallet, bag packed for work. Small things that mean more than the big gesters, just like Deb loves the randome cuddle no reason for it just another fly by.

I read FIFO wifes blog each day, more times than not at night, once the job is done,  to me is just like being at home when we can listen to the silence that crepted up on us, after the sun went down, with the moon shining bright, the boys stopped their banter in their room, the tv is off, it is just us like it use to be, trying to talk without the interruptions of B1 B2 or B3, this is the time of the day that we talk every about everything and anything and this is what FIFO wife shares with you, relish in the conversation. To know what it is that you have, is knowing that you are happy truly. We are great together, i know what it is that i have in my wife and if it not for the suport and backing of her we would not be here, every great achievment is done with more support from FIFO Wife than i would give my self.

What this blog has showed me is that there are a lot of wives like mine who are strong, honest and  have a story alot like ours. In a way feeling alone, some judge this life but who cares get on with it be a strong role model for you children learn how to change a tyre, don’t rely on roadside assistance, this is what make Deb great in my eyes, our boys are a product of her it has to be said she has more time with them but most stay at home mum’s do but i have pictures of them each day and every day. A picture of every day saved to my computer sent via email, phone or downloaded from home. I have not missed a single thing in their lives because of this, it runs on my screen saver daily, from our babies to the superman, spiderman, and ben 10 of today. These are small things that mean more than the great gestures, if this helps you with the life style of the FIFO industry i can only say  what you have is a great insight to our marriage we like to think it works, it has so far, also know it can not be done without my family with the effort that Deb talks about, that is all that is needed to get this job done a little easier.

xxF

We cant do this job without each other,

xx Deb.

One of the most commen questions Im asked is how often does your FIFO husband call when he is away? And why doesnt my FIFO husband talk to me when he is away?

The answer for me is sometimes its three times a day to twice a week. Sometimes he is as chatty as a parrot at a theme park other times its like pulling teeth and I do all the talking. And Im okay with that.

The reality of it is this. He works 12 hours days. He works with the same people day in day out and see’s the same people day in day out. So he doesnt really have a lot to say. His days are the same. He doesnt really wont to talk work. He just rings to check that we are all good but my reality is the same my world stops turning when he goes to work and my life is much the same routine its just the scenery is different.

His work is hard work and its exhausting. Sometimes depending on where he is ie the time difference by the time he has finished his shift, done his washing and unwound usually going to the gym I am in bed or Im on my way and we might message instead. Sometimes if he is moving a vessel I wont hear from him for several days. Some days he will give me a quick call as he passes the phone, thinks about it and has the time to call. Those surprise ‘I wasnt expecting you to ring’ are my favourite. Still we dont have much to say but I love you. Often he cant get to the phone. He cant call on a mobile and often there is one phone to 90 men. He usually has seven minutes once a day. They are timed and Im always listening for the beep. But on top of email, instant message and video calls we are always in contact. Always.

However my bad habit, I have a terrible memory so most of the phone call I spend trying to recall what I have to tell him. My bad. Now as soon as I remeber anything I try and write it down otherwise Im struggling.

So do I worry that I dont hear from him or that we have nothing to say? Or he has nothing to say? No.

I would worry however if he got home and we had nothing to say. Nothing but akward silence. Now thats a problem. But the case is usually he cant shut up and I cant stop smiling.

How about you lovelies?

Have a great Wednesday,

xx Deb

I had a crap morning and in honesty most mornings here when the FIFO husband is away usually are. I have no one here to back me up and I actually go to bed dreading the mornings. School mornings that is. Weekends despite my loathing of them, I love weekend mornings. So despite my early rise and my organisation and living across from the damn school; which in its self presents its own problems; we are usually late. Late. How does that happen? Every morning I’m screaming at B1 and B2 to get them to move. They aren’t argumentative it’s just that they are so slow. They dawdle. They play with their toys. They watch TV even the news before you say cartoons? No the news, the ad’s, just the TV. Christ it’s frustrating a snail on speed would move faster than them in the mornings.

I have tried various organisation techniques and coping mechanisms most work for a short time but even with every TV and radio off (yes radio) cause them enough distraction to get the go slows. Come 840 am (school starts at 850am) I’m still screaming at them to brush their teeth, put their shoes on, get their bag organised and brush their hair. Its madness and exhausting and I hate starting the day that way. Hate it.

So when talking to a mother friend at kindy last week who consequently husband does FIFO sort of. He valet parks boats all over the world which apparently is a very unique skill; parking a oil tanker the size of the Telstra stadium, anyway she suggested lowering my expectations in the morning. What? Her theory is if your expectations are lower i.e. don’t expect anything you won’t scream as often hence the start to the day won’t be so ‘crap’ because well you aren’t disappointed in fact your joyous at how your children have mooched out the door in a untimely fashion. It’s like the undersell technique retailers use. Tell them delivery is seven to ten working days and you get it there over night and the customer is over the moon with the service. So I guess it’s the same approach. I’m the customer who shouldn’t expect much service provided by my children in the mornings that is and if and when I get anything else it’s a bonus.

So if they wake up the slow go’s and you know they will it won’t kill you when they really do wake up with the slow go’s and your physically shovelling the food into their mouths because you want them to get a move on. You know that going to happen so don’t stress about. You know they are going to be slow so doing expect anything else in the morning. You know they will be dragging feet so don’t expect anything else and you won’t be disappointed. But I guess the other thing is they are kids well mine are they just don’t get the whole time factor thing yet yelling at them wont magically make it click but a girls got to try.

So whilst I have tried this and sometimes it works sometimes it doesn’t. How my mornings are all come down to me. Me and my expectations of that particular morning.

But as of this morning my expectations just hit the floor.

Have a good Tuesday my lovelies,

Xx Deb

The clutch on my car is on its way out by way out I mean I dare not drive it more than the 13 kilometres it takes me to get to the shops. I figure 13 kilometres is a do able walking distance if it fails. If I don’t need to go to town I don’t go. I have lost faith in the mechanical ability of my car which is when one should promptly take their car to the mechanic but not me. Me I have been trying to put it off until my father arrives in ten days, holding my breath every time I take a drive to town all because well I’m not a fan of dealing with mechanics. It’s a situation evolved through bad experience and knowing too little about my car and a fear of being ripped off and treated like a idiot.

Mechanics well I just can’t look them in the eye. Not only is it because I usually am not as tall as them there is just something that intimidates me about them the same goes for hair dressers but that’s a whole other post. I think it’s because I just don’t know enough about what’s under the hood. Its guilt. Guilt that Im operating something I dont understand. Guilty as charged. I can change the oil, change the tyre maybe even the air filter at a stretch; with the help of Google but I’m afraid I have to draw the line at the clutch. Simply wouldn’t know where to start and I guess a girl has to admit she needs a little ahem help at some point.

Typically the car is on its last legs when FIFO husband is out but you know that how it happens it’s almost a given. So today was the day. I had to suck it up and deal with a mechanic today so I do as I normally do; I faked it until I made it. So over the course of several conversations with some mechanics today whilst trying to get a quote on how much my little beast was going to cost to mend I learnt a few tricks on how best to deal with them. I make them sound like another spices but like most professions they have a lingo all their own ; along with the need to display a half naked Tara Reid on the office wall I will also never understand.

Now given I know the problem with the car they told me it might happen at my last service I was half way there. It was there at the last service I asked the several questions how long will it last? Should I drive it different? All that stuff he dutifully told me.

So I guess that’s lesson one: Take an interest in your car. It’s your car after all.

So I called mechanic one. The clutch is going on my car I said to him. How do you know he said? Because I do I said. How he replied? Because I just do. I explained you change gears, it revs and kind of looses power hmmm he said. What’s the make and model? It is at this point I fumble around trying to find the details of my car while he sat impatiently on the other end of the phone getting more and more ticked off. Like he didn’t have anything else to do as a small business owner? He told me he would call me with a quote typically like a girl I said okkkay far too happy like. Like a failed first date I don’t expect to hear from him.

Lesson two: Do your research. Telling him everything you can recall. The situation the noises and how often it makes them. The more the better. It helps him diagnose the problem better. As stupid as you sound do it. Have the vehicles details on hand. The log book is even better.

I then called mechanic two. I had the car details, I described the noise and then he gives me ahhh that will be around $3600. What do you mean around I said to him. Depends if you want genuine or non genuine parts he said, duh I don’t know I said. You could almost hear the ‘typical woman’ in his voice.

Lesson three: know your options.

Finally I called one more mechanic it was the dealer my least favourite mechanic in town, the one I have had my past problems with which is why I guess I left him until last. I was a pro now at talking the talk. After revolting hold music I was answered John was his name I want a quote to change the clutch in a Nissan Navara I told John. You could almost hear the drop in his voice when he heard the voice of a woman (actually I have been told I sound like a three year old. Worse). He went to start asking questions but I interjected I was on a roll I want a quote for both genuine and non genuine parts. I wasn’t rude but I want blousy about it either. That will be between $1800 and $3600 depending on the labour. Ah no I said. I want something a little firmer than that. The part will be a fixed price I would assume I said and given that you are the Nissan dealer and it is a Nissan you must have an idea of the amount of time it will take to install. I went on to say I only want the clutch changed nothing else…ahh his tune changed. It ringed with perhaps she knows what she was talking about …you can never tell these days, this is where the fake it till you make it comes in. Right he said. Can I email that to you? Why yes you can I said.

Lesson four: be clear of your expectations.

And finally.

Lesson five: Be nice. Manners will get you everywhere.

So I got my quotes all of them. Always a minimum of three.

The best was the Nissan dealer and I get a 12 month warranty on the non genuine part. I was nice. He was nice. We have a firm understanding of cost but if I get the bill and it’s a little out or under I’m cool with that. I understand that he is a professional if he wasn’t any tom dick and harry would be under the hood. His professionalism and mine will go a long way. I don’t think he will treat me like a fool and I for future reference won’t treat him like a would be bank robber.

So that my friends is my conclusion on how to talk to a mechanic. All mechanics feel free to complain here however those spoken to today reaffirmed my faith in the old grease monkey not being that bad.

Xx Deb

1. Preheat oven to 200°C. Line the base and sides of a 20cm round cake pan with baking paper.
2. Place a layer of potato slices, overlapping slightly, in the prepared baking pan. Brush with melted butter. Continue layering with remaining potato and butter. Drizzle over any remaining butter.
3. Cover baking pan with foil. Bake for 30 minutes. Remove foil. Press potatoes down with a metal spatula. Bake for a further 30-40 minutes or until potatoes are crisp and golden. Stand for 10 minutes before inverting onto a large plate.

Serve with stew or a yummy steak.

xx Deb