the fifo wife

This is my mothers recipe well I got it from her not to say that it is hers sadly we have never bonded over the making of food..the eating of but never the making..she was reluctant to hand over but then I pulled out the grand kid card and wel here it is so quick and easy my boys love it.

Beer Battered fish

What you will need:

• 225g (1 1/2 cups) self-raising flour
• 1 egg, lightly whisked
• 375ml (1 1/2 cups) chilled light beer
• Salt & freshly ground black pepper
• Vegetable oil, to deep-fry
• 8 (about 120g each) white fish fillets (such as flathead or whiting)
• Sea salt flakes, to serve
• Lemon wedges, to serve

How to:

1. Place flour in a bowl. Add the egg and stir to combine. Gradually whisk in the beer until batter is smooth. Season with salt and pepper. Cover and place in the fridge for 30 minutes to rest.
2. Add enough vegetable oil to a large saucepan to reach a depth of 8cm. Heat to 190°C over high heat (when oil is ready a cube of bread will turn golden brown in 10 seconds). Dip 2 pieces of fish, 1 at a time, into batter to coat. Drain off excess. Deep-fry for 3-4 minutes or until golden brown and cooked. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towel. Repeat, in 3 more batches, with remaining fish and batter, reheating oil between batches.

Serve with some home made fries or store bought ones and a salad and a quick dinner.

xx Deb

We are running so late today but I had an appointment with my gorgeous beautician..man that girl has the skill to make one feel a little pretty then my husband washed the walls in the house oh my lord we are in heaven..and we had an uneventful weekend although husbands wasn’t quiet so..the Tough Mudder Challenge done and dusted in 3 hours something or rather. He was pleased with him self even if he is walking like a man of 103.

So without further a do these are the few things running through my head..this last freaking week of October 2013.

1. We are in week three of our off swing..man time flies.

2. I am missing my mum and dad something shocking. Feel like Im 13 years old all over again.

3. My husband washed the walls today…unaksed..after hyperventialting that I should have done it and i resolved to myself he lives here too and I am to be thankful and he will be guaranteed some loving to show my appreciation of his help.

4. Every Sunday for the past 15 years I have watched middle aged men race up and down the mountain range that has 265 corners on their motorbikes every Sunday trying to beat there time. They ride like they should know better but instead they cut off cars, overtaking on blind corners and tail gating. They then sit at the bottom of the Range and have a drink at the pub. So last Sunday I finally had enough sucked up  courage and asked what gives them the right to do that.. but of course none of them knew who I was talking about..it got me no where but man it felt empowering to give abunch of men a piece of mind about their selfish and dangerous behavior

5. We are getting our rooster de sexed..yes you read that right..

6. An easy way to become an expert wine taster without ever having a drop..here

7. If this was Australia every school would be closed down..would you like a teaspoon of cement my British friends.

8. Dress up your pony tail 25 different ways..here

9. Seven minutes is all you need to get fit..see here

10. Is it true will they love these crafty hand made gifts..teachers let me know..

Have a great night sweets..

XDeb

Its time for my second blog as part of the Choose your own adventure series and yes I am blatantly selling the ice berg Ford Focus Titanium but I love her and this is a honest review so it’s all okay –yes? and just to adhere to the rules the word is comfort which is fine because if I could I would move in to the car and never leave..she is comfortable and she listens to you…I am currently determining which will be more affective when I return her pleading or a tantrum to keep her.

So this is what happened when husband first got to meet the newest addition to our motoring family.

I can’t wait for you to see the car I said to him. I love her I said but how good she is depends on whether you sit in it comfortably. Yeah he said that doesn’t really matter he said it would be your car and so it was settled you know if I was to ever win lotto to be able to buy her. I doubted he would both win lotto and fit in it. Not only a Holden man husband is also 6ft5 with a size 18 shoes we have trouble fitting him into shoes let alone the little pocket Rocket affectionately named Josie.

It’s pick up day husband has flown in from work and I’m feeling extra pretty in the Ford Focus Titanium which has become an extension of myself I pulled up at the airport arrivals lane. I called him on the blue tooth streaming on the phone to let him know we had arrived just in case he hadn’t spotted up us in the Ford Focus (but I am sure he couldn’t have missed us given the smile that had spread across my face.

I stopped but didn’t get out of the car due to the security there is never time to get romantic. There is never ever an Officer and a gentlemen reunion here…ever. He jumped in the passenger seat and instead of the long embrace I of course I look straight to the amount of head room he had. He wasn’t hitting the roof of the car in fact he had more clearance room than I thought beside if there was an issue we could always open the sunroof always a solution to a problem.

The seats are leather I said and the driver’s seat is electric and if you want to get real fancy they can be heated. Right he said pushing every button possible all awhile by passing the instruction manual that lay on his lap. The seats are comfy he said of course they are a sport seat with leather inserts and you have plenty of room in the front for your legs always a impending problem for him. Yeah he said as he turned and looked at the back seat…I wouldn’t okay in the back he said no you wouldn’t I said but they can’t take into account every genetically mutated human that’s 6’5ft with a size 18 shoe. If they did I said the Shak would be there mascot and this wouldn’t be a hatch back it would be a minivan and you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation. I don’t and never will do a minivan.

Yeah well it’s a typical Ford he said. Why is what I said trying to determine if it was sarcasm or not. Well they have everything you need at on the steering wheel or in your sight. Like a cockpit, I like that. I looked at him this was indeed my husband but the words coming out of his mouth weren’t right. My husband has always been a Holden Man. And for those that aren’t Australian let me clarify. There are three types of people in Australia…Team Ford, Team Holden and Team not worth talking about. I am a Team Ford have been since my father brought his first F100 when I was a girl. It’s the equivalent of choosing a political party; its serious business. My husband when we met was team Holden…the car he owned when we met was an HQ something… then a commodore I need not say more. .

The interior he said is nice. It doesn’t look cheap and plasticy. The air con is dual control that would come in handy for your mum. That was something I hadn’t noticed. And I really like the fact it’s got air bags in the front and sides he said opening the sun roof and that’s you know comforting. You don’t know how much they help in an entrapment he said off handily. I looked at him listening because when home his other job is a fire man which far too often involves cutting people out of cars. And it has ABS braking? He asked. Yes I said and it has emergency break assist; I knew that because the man at the car yard told me but it just feels solid and safe I said to him I haven’t been in many little cars that felt like that wouldn’t crash like a can in a accident. It almost feels like your in a sedan but not..yeah he said..

It’s a Ford and It suits you a lot is all he said as he faced the front ready for the 90 minute drive home.

We didn’t have a deep and meaning full about whether he is a converted Holden man. We have another four weeks to do a to have him swap teams and so there was plenty of time for that but if he is honest I doubt if I even need that.

So let’s get political just this once but stay nice are you team Ford, team Holden or team something or rather?

Tuesday.

What’s wrong he asked. I’m tired I replied. Tired? I buried my head in his chest. We were standing in the kitchen having morning tea and I walked over for a cuddle. Yeah tired I said to him. Do you want to go back to bed now he said while the boys are at school. I shook my head I’m not that kind of tired. I wanted to tell him but didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a monster. I started to cry. The ugly cry in front of my husband. It spilled over and like drinking a really good vodka orange on a hot summers day I couldn’t stop the ugly cry.

And for those about to judge me please don’t bother just un-friend me or un-subscribe I don’t care because this is my honest truth I’m not proud of it but honesty is my thing and this is my blog and my story and if we were all a bit more honest there would be less crap in the world.

This feeling tired was something I was having trouble containing. I couldn’t hide it you could hear it in my voice like venom. My lowest point was this morning I had yelled at B3 this morning because he just wouldn’t let me talk; at all. I relived the morning over and over in my head he dropped his head, his bottom lip quivered, then he walked away and I didn’t care. I just let him go. My justification he was asking me the same question over as I tried to speak to his father and I was tired. What I should have said was bub I’m talking instead a I yelled “go way” at close range into his face; something if done to me wouldn’t be acceptable. I scared him and made his father stop our conversation. They were my last words to him not I love you before he left for kindy a rule I never break broken.

Ah my husband said. He knew what was coming. He stroked my hair as I sucked up the last sob and said its the boys. I love them they are beautiful I’m blessed and but I am tired of them. There it was out there in the universe for it to be used on to me how ever it saw fit. I waited for his reaction. I’m sorry I said not wanting to look at him. What for was his reply. I feel so guilty about it I said still not looking. They are my boys I love them so much but I am tired because of them and yet we have just come off a holiday. What’s wrong with me I said.

Nothing he said That holiday was with them; doing stuff for them making them happy he said and I can tell you are tired your face your voice tells me so. Baby he said whispering in my ear you are with them 24 hours a day. 365 days a year.Your days are long and when you aren’t with them you are doing something for them. I understand he said and its nothing to feel guilty about every one deserves a break and you are about due. It doesn’t mean you love them any less and its okay for me I get to go back to work you don’t ever leave your work place. I would go nuts too if I was you.

Yes is all I said as I turned to clean up some vomit.

Fast forward to Thursday.

My day is about to start. I still feel the same. I am tired and annoyed at the thought of having to make school lunches. Then I read something that sparks a thought in my head. Next year is ten weeks away and all my boys will be at school. The weekends will be my only quality time with them. There will be no daily morning tea together, watching ABC 2, swimming lessons, library crafts or shopping trips. All of that will become holiday fodder spaced at 12 weeks apart. Hmm is what I think I’m torn between sadness and joy at the thought.

I hear them waking. The chatter disturbing the peace as they start looking for me for their morning cuddle. Still warm, cheeks flushed and confused from their sleep. Every morning they seek me out regardless of what cross words have bee said the previous day. Like a clean parenting slate its my favourite part of the day.

I sigh as I realise something and it’s not very nice.

I have sucked these past few weeks (just weeks not months I feel the need to clarify that) at being a mum. I take pride on being a good mum I love being a mum but I have not been and I will offer an excuse to a point. Mumma tiredness..it’s going to happen, this is a tough sometimes thankless job that can get tiresome. I know because at the beginning of the year I was carrying on that it gets easier and it does but still you get tired. Still you need a break. You are wearing more than one hat and sometimes all of them all once. Throw in a FIFO husband, little support and those that are around you don’t want to wear there help thin then if you are like me add to that my ridiculous independence and its a recipe for one tired mumma especially towards the end of the year. And whilst ‘wishing the time away’ isn’t exactly the expression its the one closest to what I can find.

My slap in the face understanding is this I haven’t been putting my best foot forward and yes I am tired and all mums need a break but this is the thing, this is my job. It was my choice knowingly when I said yes lets have babies. Being the best parent possible is my job but currently I am doing everything else but be with my children all awhile looking at the clock like I’m a sitting at a dead end job waiting for Friday. My being tired isn’t their fault. It doesn’t give me the right to ignore them which is essentially what I have been doing by not being present just there providing them with mediocre care. You don’t have to be present every second of their day its not fair on you and its not humanly possible but a good chunk is what they deserve I don’t think I have even managed these past few weeks a third. Which is my loss because this time it doesn’t come back around ever again. Some of that is good… lets be honest how good is it not to have to wipe some ones bottom? But some of it rips my heart out that it will soon be gone and that’s the part I will miss but its the way this parenting gig works and soon they will leave me.

Ultimately however my realisation was some parents wake and their children are gone forever by whatever horrible reason.

So weekend away booked (I’m not a maryter and neither should you) I’m standing by my motto suck it princess and take some semi amount of joy in ABC 2, strawberry jam morning teas , craft and I will…after all I have just 10 short sweet weeks left before I’m am not a stay at home mum to babies any more they are boys requiring less of me. A lot less of me..cue tears now.

Something if I’m honest I am looking forward to but not. I don’t know if I am really ready but that is a whole other post.

xx Deb