Calling all urban, sexy, mysterious soldiers. I need you, my kid is starting school.

I'm already crying writing this post and we are only one sentence in.

Not a good sign but we'll press on like the urban, sexy, mysterious soldiers we are. (Look, I'm trying to be brave so I thought the image of me being an urban, sexy, mysterious solider might do the trick.)

We're deep in the bowels of school holidays at the moment. Normally I pray for the end of school holidays as a sugar dependant child may pray for cake, but not these ones folks.

I never want them to end.

I want them to stretch out in front of me for months if not years! These school holidays are very special as they are my last with my wonderful daughter Odette.

You see Odette is leaving me.

Nay, abandoning me to selfishly start primary school AND MUMMY ISN'T COPING WELL AT ALL.

(God the tears are overwhelming me now, mascara has just gone up my nostrils - it's getting dramatic up in here.)

I've already been through this once with my eldest daughter Marchella who is heading into grade 5 this year. When Chella started school I was hosting Breakfast radio in Perth so I was just glad she had somewhere to go while I was a work thus alleviating some of the crushing guilt I had being a working Mother. Her first day at School was a happy one for me, this is not the case with Odie's first day.

I have been at home with Odie full time since she was 2 - I decided I wanted to do that as I missed so much of Chella's early childhood working. So after I quit the radio Odie and I became each others' side-kicks. I think this is why I'm not coping well with the prospect of her heading to school; I just can't imagine my days without her.

The highlight of my day is seeing what Odette will dress herself in, she has developed quite a unique style     and is fearless when it comes to fashion.

Everyday at about 8am Odette will announce to the house:

"I'm getting dressed, NO-ONE can come in until I say."

This morning we were treated to pink, wet-look Lycra leggins, a tule leopard print skirt, sequinned cardigan, pink vans and a blue t-shirt with ruffles around the neck. There will always be several necklaces  and COPIOUS amounts of perfume she has stolen from me and hid in a secret location in her room. Her eye shadow is sometimes on her eyes and her lipstick is usually in the vicinity of her lips. She is nothing short of SPECTACULAR.

Now all I'll see each day is a checked school dress and sensible shoes. Humph.

I am worried sick. I am worried they won't get her. I am worried her lovely, creative, loopy spirit will be crushed. I'm just worried about EVERYTHING now that I won't be there to protect her ALL THE TIME and indulge her unique view of the world.

My eldest is savvy, smart, independent and sensible. I could send her out to live on her own now if need be. Odette is, well she's a little too much like me I guess and that is a HUGE concern.

Don't worry I know I am being irrational and dramatic. I know it's all probably going to be fine. I know this will upset me more than it will her. I DON'T CARE! It gives me a stomach ache every time I think about it.

There is a poem by Victor Buno called "I trust you treat her well."  I remember vividly hearing Tracy Bartram do her own version for when her son started school and so I thought I'd do my own as well.

Dear World,

Today I bequeath to you a little girl with green eyes in a checkered school dress she'll have altered to make it more "Barbie."

I can also guarantee she's done something fabulous with the standard issue school cardie.

Her laughter is loud and a little maniacal she will ONLY ride HER glittery bicycle.

I hope you treat her well.

I'm afraid someone will tell her it's "Frog" not "Froggett" and correct "Huggle" to "cuddle" can you stop that from happening?

Her Mother is mental and a little bit musical so she when she sings her answers make can you make sure there's clapping?

She likes raw pasta and will only drink water from this one manky plastic purple cup.

I'll level with you now.

Alls I'm saying is,

World, don't f$*k it up!

I hope you treat her well....

Your friend Em.

Yes I know, I've already called Leonard Cohen to suggest a collaboration on his next book of poems...

Badly written poems aside I decided to do a little research on how to prepare myself for Odette's first day of School... I looked and I looked.. There was plenty of "how to prepare the child" crap but nothing on how I CAN COPE WITH THIS IMPENDING SEPARATION. Can someone alert Kaz Cooke to this?! I need her to write a book in 2 weeks as there is jack shit all out there for the "anxious, hysterical Mother."

I thought maybe I could have a crack at writing a guide to the first day of school for Mums.

Em's guide to your child's first day at school.


1. Get up early, find a nice private place and have your first cry before everyone else is up. This is the big one. You can snot it up, heave and lay in the foetal position without anyone knowing.


2. Make sure you look amazing. Pick a fabulous outfit, do your make-up and ensure everything is WATERPROOF. I mean get that synchronised swimmer shit, the stuff that wouldn't move during a hurricane.


3. Once at School immediately try to win over the teacher. If he/she likes you best then he/she may play favourites with your child.


4. Don't get caught with the hip flask in your bag.


5. Find a nice bush where you can spend the day watching if need be.


6. After the school have you removed, hide around the corner crying some more. Don't worry your face has the synchronised simmer war paint on no one will know.


7. Home time! Rush over to your child, hold on for dear life and break it to them you are considering home schooling.


8. You're welcome.


I know you know that is EXACTLY how my first day is going to play out, I'm just trying to get some of you to behave as badly as I am going to so I'm not the only one..

I still have two weeks left so hopefully by then I will have gained some perspective....

If your baby is starting school this year, I'm with you sisters and brothers - let's do this thing together.

Em x

Women aren't funny?

I feel extremely overwhelmed starting this piece of writing. I fear red hot lasers may shoot from my fingertips and melt my precious Macbook. I fear I may not cover all points intelligently and succinctly enough. I want to write it so well, I want you to all read this and have it ignite a fire within and perhaps change a few minds but I fear it may all turn into a steaming pile of ranty poo.

I will open proceedings with the following statement: I love comedy. I am a comedy nerd. I hang out with comedians. I work with comedians Im a "gag hag" if you will. 

I especially love female comedians. 

Let me reel off some of my favourite gals:

Sarah Silverman

Tina Fey

Dawn French

Jennifer Saunders

Amy Poehler

Joan Rivers

Kathy Griffin

Kristen Wiig

Margaret Cho

Ellen Degeneres

Rosanne Barr 

Amy Sedaris

Judith Lucy

Kitty Flannigan

Felicity Ward

Cal Wilson

Fiona O'Loughlin

Denise Scott

I know I will have missed some brilliant ladies, there are so many. These were just the ones off the top of my school holiday addled head. 

So we've established I feel overwhelmed at what I am about to tackle and that I love comedians of the female persuasion.

Deep breath Em.. 

When I hear a man say "I don't find women funny" or "Women can't be funny"  I am filled a red hot rage that burns like the heat of 1000 suns in the depths of hell. Shamefully enough, on the odd occasion, I have also heard a woman say "I just don't think women can be funny."

Last night on twitter I found myself ranting Kanye style after a male colleague stated there were no funny females IN THE WORLD. Big call. Some might say the call of a man who has deep seeded psychological issues related to a mummy complex he developed as a child - but I digress.

What followed were mostly tweets of disgust from my followers at his statement but what also cropped up was some of my male followers saying that all female comics talk about is menstruation, men and mothering. 

I'm not kidding.

@radioinnovation

Ben Henry

@EmRusciano there is more to comedy than periods, children and issues with men.

When I read things like this I wonder how Ben and others like him manage to put their pants on in the morning. Is this a common held belief? If you are a man reading this, look deep into your heart. Do you think women can be funny? DO YOU?! 

I wonder how extensive Ben's research is on the topic of female stand-ups? I wonder how many he has seen live? I also wonder when Ben was ordained King of Comedy. Because surely only the preordained king comedy could be allowed to write off AN ENTIRE GENDER and their comedic ability. It must be something about vaginas huh? Perhaps all the funny just fell out of us? I'm getting ranty now, let us get back on track.. 

In 2007 Christopher Hitchens wrote an article for Vanity Fare with the delightful title:

"Why women aren't funny."

I have reason to believe this article may have been a piss-take, however for the purposes of attacking someone to prove my point... Let us press on!

I think my favourite part was when Chris said that ladies don't need to bother being funny as they have boobs and stuff to attract men so why bother with words.. Ok, so he didn't EXACTLY say that he said:

"Women have no need to appeal to men in this way-if you catch my drift."

Oh yes Chris, we caught your drift. I'd like to see your drift inserted in a place no drift should be inserted. Sadly Christopher passed away last year but I stand by my drift insertion request.

Among other things Christopher insinuated that women only use comedy to attract men. Of course! It all makes perfect sense. I know I only perform in the hope of impressing and trapping a man, that's definitely why Ellen Degeneres does it right? 

Just when you think he can't get any better, Christopher rips out this gem:

"MOST female comedians are hefty, dykey or Jewish." 

I know, what an enlightened man he was.

I'm not even going to bother with that one. 

Surely I don't need to. 

It's no secret that comedy is a male dominated scene. It's a burley, scary, tough world and in my experience you have to play by the boys rules because there are just so many of them. Men outnumber women on the comedy circuit a bazillion to 5 or something like that. 

Comedy is for the brave which is ironic as a lot of comedians are a tower of insecurity needing laughter to bolster their fragile egos. (Same applies to performers, I include myself here.)

I think a lot of women are capable of delivering excellent stand-up but they lack the encouragement and confidence to actually do so. I have also observed that audiences are more tolerant of a man bombing on stage than a woman. I think women are expected to kill it and deliver every time otherwise they are deemed "un-funny" forever.

Last year comedian/writer/actor/producer/queen of awesomeness Tina Fey penned an excellent memoir called "Bossypants." 

Of working with the Saturday night live writers she wrote:

"Only in comedy does an obedient white girl from the suburbs count as diversity."  

Interestingly enough Tina has a much more zen approach than I do to people who say women aren't funny:

“When faced with sexism or ageism or lookism … ask yourself the following question: ‘Is this person in between me and what I want to do?’ If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you.”

Good advice T (I like to pretend we are friends and that I call her T.)

Are women funny? Some are, not all.

Are men funny? Some are, not all.

I guess what I am ultimately trying to say is: let us judge what is and isn't funny by what happens on stage not by what happens in our pants.. 

Wait. I can do better.

Let us not get hung up on the gender of a comedian. Funny is funny whether it has a bulge in it's pants or in it's top.

Just don't say anything wanky like: "women can't be funny" It's beneath you. It's not true and you should probably get something done about your small penis. 

BOOM!

Single? Want that to change? THE DOCTOR IS IN! I mean me, I'm the doctor..

My two closest girl friends are single.

It's a God damn jungle out there my friends and if you're a single person reading this then you know what I mean. Ammiright or AMMIRIGHT! (We've all just high-fived via cyber space that's why your palm is suddenly throbbing.)

I am married. Being married is challenging. Too be honest, I'm not sure which of the two states is tougher.

I am going to talk about a few things from the perspective of a single woman because that's what I hear about day in/ day out from my two best girl friends. I am often the person they turn to for advice when things inevitably go wrong with a fella. I'm not sure sure why; it may have something to do with the fact I have tricked one into staying with me for eleven years but even then, I get that wrong so often I worry about the validity of my advice.

Also, I encourage you to take the following words from my brain with a massive grain of salt. I am a well know lunatic and get a lot of shit wrong, I don't think I have THE answer but I do have something for you to have a crack at.

I believe men aren't really ready to settle down until they are 30, of course there are going to be exceptions to this rule and I avoid making sweeping statement where possible but; on the whole, I stand by this opinion.

While I have my big arse broom out. I think women, given the right bloke are ready to nest and procreate by 22.

Why is this important, it's not really I just feel ladies in their 20's trying to hook up and settle with men in their 20's are up against it from the start.

Firstly, I wish to point out my love for the male species. This is not a male bashing piece. I. LOVE. MEN.

My closest friends are male, a couple straight and ten gay so let us establish from the outset : if you've got balls- I'm a a fan.

Of course, not all women want or need a man. Rah, rah women's lib and all that. My two do, so we'll be attacking things from their perspective if that's ok with you.

Both girls are hot.

Both are successful.

Both are good eggs. No bullshit. No bitching. If I were a bloke, I would lock both of them down ASAP.

Both want a longterm meaningful relationship.

BOTH HAVE A HABBIT OF PICKING ABSOLUTE DOUCHE BAGS FOR BOYFRIENDS.

I can walk into a bar or cub and spot the guys my two girls will target. They travel in packs of 4, wear expensive watches have huge biceps and are uber tanned. There is usually a lot of high-fiving going and it would be remiss of me not to mention the teeth, they always have SPECTACULAR teeth.

We all know these guys.

I wish to stop here and dwell on this type of bloke if you don't mind. I have a couple mates who play professional sport and fit the above description perfectly. I love these boys like brothers, they are good guys who are committed to their sport. They are kind, funny and loyal.

However, until they are finished with their sport or click over 30 I would't let my dog date them. I hear how they talk about women and see how they treat them and it'a pretty shocking. AGAIN this does not apply to all professional sportsmen or hot meat axes in general, of course there are exceptions to the rule but I am dealing in stereotypes here so let's push on.

Back to the bar.

Here is how things usually play out.

Friend  targets a bloke.

Eye contact is made.

Smart arse comments exchanged.

Drinks purchased.

Much talking at the bar, laughing, witty banter.

Dancing.

Drinking.

Cheeky pash.

Home. ( I have banned them both from taking randoms home on first meeting so they usually don't.)

Facebook stalking commences, photos analysed, friendship requested.

Facebook friendship accepted. Flirting commences via direct messages they miraculously end up at the same place the next Friday night.

Def con 1 pashing occurs.

Home for the sex.

Text messages exchanged during the week, drunk texts on the Thursday night, late night booty call.

Friend HINTS maybe they should do something in the daytime.

Bloke ignores this.

Things fizzle out.

Friend left wondering what the fuck went wrong.

This plays out over various time periods with sex being withheld for weeks or hours with the same result.

After grilling a few of my single, straight male friends I have been able to gather that the fear of commitment comes from the fear of missing out. Missing out on boozy nights with the boys, missing out on the next hot woman who walks in the room and not having the freedom to try and pick her up. Missing out on doing whatever the fuck they want which could involve sitting nude on the couch playing x-box for 8 hours straight.

So how do I combine my knowledge of both sides? How can I bring them all together so we end up with meaningful connections that don't result in boys feeling suffocated and girls crying alone in bed wondering what went wrong? Baring in mind there is multi-million dollar industry devoted to this very topic with eleventy millions books/tapes/dvds and seminars available.

Well, I have given it deep thought. It's not an original solution but it worked for me and I have had the girls try it recently and they are having good results.

Here it is.

When confronted with a potential romantic situation choose wisely and don't RESIST it or ASSIST it just let it happen.

No game playing, no dating rules, no deep analysis- just let it be. Expectation usually leads to disappointment.

Also, and this is the IMPORTANT PART: SAY what YOU MEAN and MEAN what YOU SAY. Then there can be no confusion, about anything.

That's it.

Choose wisely.
Let "it" happen naturally.
Be honest.
Expect nothing.

Before you come up with ten reasons why this won't work. Try it. Just try it.

Go into every new romantic situation with this intent. It puts you back in control, you will have the hand, you will hold the power of grey skull.

So, your homework for this week is to try this course of action. Then I wish for you all to report back.

Go forth my brave solders.

E xx

You're doing better than you thought..

I get a shit load of joy out of my kids doing well.


I'm a borderline helicopter Mum. If things are running smoothly I hover above at a respectable distance letting both the girls make safe mistakes. I'm pretty liberal with the discipline and they seem to have a lot more freedom than some of  their friends. 


The same can't be said for when I think someone is messing with them.. I kinda turn into a blackhawk, special forces, black ops, navy seal, ghost protocol, FBI Mum. 


I'm slack enough to not be placed on some sort of "trouble making parents" school watch list but I think people still keep a healthy distance from me at events. The thought of joining the PTA makes me want to cut someone however my kids always have fabulous costumes and rad lunches.


The thing is, I am constantly worried that I'm doing irreversible damage to my children. 
The number of times they have seen me leave the house sans pants is probably not ideal. I also have a habit of calling them "slack moles" when they don't clean up their mess and on more than *one (*read 30+) occasion (s) they have had breakfast for dinner. 


I am also a massive fan of the hard core lecture. I own that shit. I get on a roll and usually find myself sucked into some sort of vocal, mythical vortex. I can sustain a rant for up to 30 minutes! They are more performances than lectures.. I once made them sit through Mozart's "Requiem" to set the mood before I launched them about not putting their clothes in the dirty clothes basket. If you are unfamiliar with this piece here it is: Em's lecture fire up song. 
These lectures achieve nothing as their little eyes usually glaze over at the 5 minute mark, they are mostly to make me feel better which isn't ideal.


The problem with the ongoing war with my children over the "putting away of clothes" is that my bedroom looks like a drag queen and a show girl had a clothes baby and that baby exploded. Feathers, sequins, animal print over 200 pairs of shoes. hats, wigs and make-up strewn  across every available surface. 


Niether of them have thought to challenge me yet but that day will come and I won't have a leg to stand on.


If you're a parent and never feel like a failure then hats off to you hats fecking off.


I lay awake at night feeling guilty, I'm sure a lot of you can relate. You can right? Oh say you can..


Every time I swear in front of them or yell or find myself away for work I resolve to make organic meals, use tupperware and keep the washing pile to a height of 1m instead of the 2m it now towers at. I of course never stick to these resolutions but I have really excellent intentions!


Why am I rambling about my inadequate parenting skills? Well my friends, today I had a win. A big dick off win!


Marchella my eldest got her end of year report card and against all odds she is a rad kid. I mean excellent in everything. I burst into tears after reading it I was so proud.  She had a tough time this year with another girl bullying her but it seems coped pretty well and achieved brilliance. I know I am going on but I need this. LET ME HAVE THIS!


 The opening paragraph reads:


"Chella has completed a fabulous year. Chella's approach, enthusiasm, strong work ethic and
 genuine interest in learning is INSPIRING and she is a positive role model for the other 
 students."


I won't bore you with the rest but she received "excellent" in every subject and MY GOD I am so relieved I haven't completely stuffed her up. Yet.


The reason I am telling you this; besides gloating and being a massive wanker, is that I wanted to reassure you that you are probably doing a better job at this parenting caper than you give yourself credit for. 


I don't think parents take enough time to look at their kids and see all the positive things they have passed on and achieved. I know I am prone to focussing on what I have stuffed up rather than got right. 


I will acknowledge my good work as a Mother in that both my kids know Nickleback's music is a blight on humanity that should be wiped out in irreversible circumstances. They both know all the chorrie to Gaga's "Bad Romance" and that it's never ok to wear white pants. They both also know never to start a sentence with "No offence but..." 


Job well done right? RIGHT!


So, I encourage you all to go and look at your cherubs. Do it when they're asleep, you always love them 15% more then and give yourself a pat on the back. You've earned it.


E x

Old people die and other stories..

Hi my name is Emelia but you can call me Em.

You may remember me from previous blogs however it's been so long you will be forgiven for thinking: "Who is this uppity slack mole and why is she here?"

Look, I'll admit it. When my Grandfather died I went into survival mode.

Writing causes me to open my veins and go to that place in my brain where I lock away emotionally challenging things.

Obviously losing a loved family member caused that area to implode so the writing of meaningful words became a little too painful.

I'm back bitches and ready to go.

For those of you experiencing this blog for the first time, welcome!

WARNING: My spelling and grammar are both appalling as I suffer from a glamorous case of dyslexia.

I try to get others to proof read for me however my ten year old insists on going to school during the day, so sometimes blogs go up without the benefit of someone who has a mediocre grip on the English language and all her rules having seen them.

If you think you can handle the occasional mistake and a little bit of swearing then press on. If you think It'll be too much then I suggest you turn back now.

For those of you who stuck around let us press on. I'm glad those other bitches went, they were all so judgemental!

Oh one more thing. I use the word BITCH, a lot. I have reclaimed it and in the context of this blog it is a term of powerful endearment.

I thought I'd write a bit about how people shat their nests when they were faced with me, after finding out my beloved Ted (Grandfather) had died.

I thought I could give you a little guide to dealing with people who have just experienced loss. It's not the bible and it may just apply to people like me (emotionally charged nut cases barely hanging onto sanity) but I thought it may help a few of you out.

The morning I found out Ted has passed away I was in Canberra covering the Queen's visit for "The Project."

I woke up at 4am as I was also filling in on breakfast radio for SAFM. I look at my phone and saw that I had 7 missed calls from my Mother at around 12:30am.

I knew straight away it was Granddad. He had been very unwell for a few months and the family had been keeping a bedside vigil (it's true theses things really do happen) so that he would't be alone when he finally went.

I called her straight away and said "When did it happen?"

Mum replied "Midnight."

I told her I'd get the first plane back to Melbourne.

I called "Showtravel" who; as their name suggests, arrange all the travel stuff for "The Project."

I have to say their level of service was exceptional.

I woke up their on call lady, who's name I cannot recall and I am sorry for that as she was a bloody gem.

I explained what had happened and as soon as she said "I'm very sorry Em, what can I do to help?"
I broke down.

I mean snot coming out of my eyes the whole bit. The truck of sadness that smashed into me was almost unbearable, the lovely woman told me if I could get to Canberra airport in 20 minutes I could get the first flight out.

I packed very quickly and had the hotel arrange a cab.

The whole way I was sobbing, the cab driver must have thought me crazy.

I arrived at the airport in 19 minutes and sprinted to the gate.

They were closing the flight as I approached I explained/yelled hysterically: "I HAVE TO GET ON THAT PLANE!"

This now brings us to lesson one in the "How to deal with someone who has experienced loss" class.

As the lady on the gate scanned my ticket she looked at me and said: "Someone's had a big night. Perhaps you should have got to bed earlier knowing you had an early flight."

Friends, I had a choice here. I could keep my mouth shut and take her light scolding on the chin or make her feel like a right mole and explain why my face looked puffy and snotty.

I think we all know the road I chose to drive down.

I looked her in the eye, squared my shoulders, wiped my snotty nose with the sleeve of my coat and said: "I've just found out my Grandfather has died and I am trying to get home. I was only made aware of this flight 20 minutes ago."

As the realisation of her mistake dawned on her and as I saw her go to atone I held my hand up and said: "Just let me on the plane please." (Someone hand me my Oscar now.)

I know it was petty but I wanted to cause someone a little pain in a feeble attempt to take away some of mine. A ridiculous concept I know but at the time, I was not thinking straight.

During the flight she approached me and apologised profusely. I even got an extra bottle of midget water out of her so you know... Every cloud and all that.

Your lesson here kids is if you come across a person who looks as though someone has died.. Chances are, they have. Tread with care.

The next lesson comes coutsey of my dear friend Tommy Little. I adore this man, he is lovely, funny and usually caring. Upon hearing what had happened with Ted he responded: "Oh Em... (awkward pause 5, 4,3,2,1) I... (More awkward silence) Old people die yeah?"

JESUS H CHRIST! Yes Captain Obvious they do but it's different this time. It was MY OLD PERSON.

He didn't mean anything by it and has been an incredible support to me during this time, I guess he just said EXACTLY WHAT CAME INTO HIS HEAD at that EXACT MOMENT.

Another friend said: "I guess your parents will be able to save some money now they don't have the nursing home fees to pay."

Well, yes. I guess they will but for CHRIST SAKE! You know.. OUCH.

If your friend loses someone the following responses are acceptable:

1. Would you like some brainless gossip? I can distract you with filth for 5 minutes.

2. I'm sorry you have to go through this. I love you very much.

3. That is shit house. Nothing I can say will take your pain away but I'm here should you need to talk, drink, punch or cry.

That's it. Simple enough huh? Honest, real emotion works in this situation.

My "favourite" reaction to the death of my Grandfather came via the boys I was doing the breakfast show with. It wasn't so much a reaction as it was an inappropriate suggestion for a stunt that hadn't really been thought through before they emailed it to me.

All the big things were happening in the world that week. The Queen was in town, my Grandfather died and Lindsay Lohan was doing her community service.

The boys thought it would be a good idea for us to replicate her community service. That the 3 of us should have to do the exact same things as her. I'm not sure how good your pop culture knowledge is but she was doing her time in a FUCKING MORGUE.

I only had one day off during this time (the day he passed) and when I went to check my emails after I'd visited the nursing home I saw the subject line "We should hang out in a morgue."

YEP. The boys had suggested, on the day he had died, without really thinking it through, that we should all hang out with a bunch of dead bodies.

Again, I had a choice. I could have just gone along with the idea OR point out why I may be a little sensitive to this suggestion.

For a second time, I chose to take the low road.

I sent back an email that said the following:

"Boys,


Forgive me but I just don't think I could endure a day in a morgue considering my Grandfather passed away last night. It's just a little too close to home. 


Thanks for the suggestion though.


Em."

They were both horrified and were just being stupid boys but still. BLOODY HELL!

It's now been about 9 weeks since he left me. I can honestly say he would have found all the above reactions hilarious as he had a sick sense of humour like me. I think everything has it's funny side and I am a big fan of real, awkward situations. You know, as long as they are not happening to me!

I miss you Ted. You were a good egg, never to be forgotten. (I'm sobbing now. Right now, shit it's hard.)

See you all tomorrow.

E xx

Slack Bitch

Hello lovely darlings..

I know I've been a slack bitch with the blogs but I've just had so much going on. No excuse I know..
I swear to you I will get back on this horse once my stint on Breakfast radio is over.
I may even mount it before then.
My Grandfather dying took away my ability to write with any joy but I feel like I'm thawing out a bit and soon I will be able to quip in a semi intelligent fashion..

Until then, be kind to everyone except the arse clowns.

Em xxx (Too many kisses? I'm over reaching now aren't I?)

P.S. If you wish to hear me watered down to about 85% (I'm not allowed to swear on air) you can podcast us:  Hear Em on the radio here!

Not ALL stories involving nipple exposure end well..

The following story literally made me gag.

Then want to take a shower.

Then want to hold my children close.

Am I over reacting? Probably, but you're all fairly accustomed to that by now right?

My sister- in-law related this story to me and it has haunted me ever since.. It is in regards to a "friend" of hers.. (You will come to see why the inverted commas are now around the word FRIEND when before this incident they would not have been required.)

*Jill (my sister-in-law) had a couple of the girls from her Mothers group around to her house last week. Let us call them Mother number 2 and Mother number 3. They no longer attended the main Mothers group as they had broken off into a smaller, younger renegade group.

As lunch time rolled around it became apparent that there would not be enough food in the house to feed everyone so *Jill and Mother number 2 said they'd go and get lunch if the Mother number 3 didn't mind staying with the kids.

Of course she didn't mind, so off *Jill and Mother number 2 went.

While they were shopping for cheese rolls, sushi and apple slice unspeakable events were unfolding back at the house.

*Jill and Mother number 2 were gone for a total of 30 minutes. In those 30 minutes that Mothers group would be CHANGED FOREVER.. (Forever, forever, forever.........  - FYI this is a dramatic echo)

Am I building the suspense enough? I still bet you can't guess what happened..

*Jill and Mother number 2 arrived back at the house to find all three children having a nap.

Well done Mother number 3 they exclaimed! Mother number 2 was especially surprised as her child hadn't been fed yet and was hard to get to sleep when she hadn't been fed. No milk = no sleep for Mother number 2's child.

"I'm surprised you could get *Misty to sleep, she hasn't been fed yet. I always have to give her a feed before she goes down at lunch time. I don't know what I'll do when I stop BREAST FEEDING HER."

Have I dropped enough clues yet? Need I go on?

Oh alright.

Mother number 3 replied:

"Oh, *Timmy skipped his feed and I had a full boob so I popped *Misty on it. She guzzled it down and went straight to sleep!"

OH YES. YES SHE DID. YOU BET YOUR SWEET BIPPY SHE DID!

MOTHER NUMBER 3 BREAST FED MOTHER NUMBER 2's CHILD!

Let us pause here.

This is an act that can NEVER BE UNDONE. Never, ever not once ever can it be undone..

It's like finding out your flatmate has been cleaning the toilet with your toothbrush. You can't take back all those times you had the brush in your mouth after it had cleaned poo from the crevices of your toilet.

The image of Mother number 3's nipple in her child's mouth can NEVER be erased form Mother number 2's mind. That milk can never be un-drunk.

Yessssss, I know there were wet nurses back in the day and I know some women today use them but for me it's JUST NOT RIGHT. I'm not saying you are a bad person if you allow some other womans boob to go into your babies mouth for nourishment, I'm just saying don't ever let it be my baby.

Breast feeding is an intensely personal thing. It is bonding time, it is boobs and nipples and babies and family and well it's breast feeding for christsake! Who shoves their tit in a random kid's mouth without at least asking said kid's Mother first? (Wow that sentance would be SO wrong if taken out of context.)

Mother number 2 apparently lost her shit.

Mother number 3 was ushered out of the house at a rapid pace. It was excruciatingly awkward and none of the girls have been able to speak since.

I don't think I would recover from that type of thing either.

Am I being a weirdo? I totally accept it if you think I am.. Perhaps I am not as open minded as I thought I was..

How would you react if this was your child?

*Jill, Misty and Timmy's names have been changed to protect their dignity and identity.


In totally unrelated news I have a new facebook page here:"Like" Em here (I know what a wank huh?)

I also have a live show in Melbourne this Saturday night, it involves stories like this one and some singing. Come along if you can. Info here:  Em's live show info

I'm of course worried the room will be empty so tell your friends!

E x