Online dating. Part 3 

Part 3…….take a seat ladies and gentleman, it’s been a bumpy ride this last month, so strap in and I’ll take you on a journey that will blow (or permanently damage) your minds!! 

This blog is bluntly honest and I may be accused of over sharing.  So  if you’re prudish, or are members of my family, or just don’t want to hear about my dating/sex life. Look away now….. abort. I repeat, ABORT! This mission is too dangerous, you may never get these visions out of your head!
So, last time I blogged, I had been on a few dates with a certain 50 year old gentleman, well… least I thought he was a gentleman. 

Well after a week I found out he was a toddler in a man suit. This blog is primarily dedicated to him. 

I’d never witnessed a grown man having a temper tantrum, but can now tick that off the bucket list. And what may you ask, was the trigger for said tantrum?? From the first date, he had reiterated time and time again, that he wanted a relationship….

Well, I’ll let you use your imagination, let’s just say things got intimate, I won’t go into details, but it was good. He then began messaging at all hours of the day and night. Now I’m sure most of you know what sexting is, some of you may have participated, it can be fun, but this not so gentlemanly man, took it to extremes. No leading into it, no shall we say foreplay. 
This had all developed over a week, a week that I was working and I was coming up for days off. Two glorious days where I don’t have kids or work. Two days a fortnight, that’s it. So on these days off, I had planned on going on a date with this man child. 
When I asked him if he was free either of those days, he said he was busy. Not a drama, I’d plan to catch up with other friends. I asked him one more time, as I actually wanted to get to know the guy, he said he couldn’t and maybe I should go back on that dating site and find someone else!!! What the actual Fuck??? When I asked him why he reacted that way, he replied that he had seen me online. Well, it escalated quickly from there…..
Firstly- I explained that a few guys had messaged me, and I messaged them back that I was dating someone at the moment….. well maybe not in those words.
Secondly- if he knew I was on the dating site, so was he!

It deteriorated from there. Texting back and forth, I tried to take the high road…… but I’ll let you decide.

After that disastrous week of dating, I tried to brush it off like toast crumbs. But like most things in my life, you think you’ve got them all off, but later on you find a few that  you have got some stuck in your bra.

 Even though you try and be discreet, you end up having to stick your whole hand down your top to retrieve them.

 So I tried not to be hurt, booked in another date on one of my days off. The date went well, great to talk to, funny, excellent taste in music. I had a a great night…. but, (of course there’s a but) it was only going to be a hookup, I knew from the invite to his house, but it was what I needed. To completely forget the tantrum, I went and did exactly what I had been accused of, but had been innocent of, until then. 

Then a few days later…… more texts from the man child. 

I may have led him to believe I was contemplating it….. but 4am???

Then this response, when I regretfully couldn’t make it. 

I continued to get texts explicitly depicting what he wanted me to do almost every day for two weeks. I ignored them all, then ended up blocking him. He then called me from a different phone number and left a message. 

After that night, I decided I needed a break from this whole online dating business. I went to delete my account and low and behold, I had new matches. What’s the harm?? Have a look, see what the online wizards have matched me with. One guy stood out. Take a chance I thought. What’s going to happen??
Well….. I’ll leave you on that cliff hanger. Way more to tell. But I don’t want to do any irrevocable damage to your brains. 

The moody teenager

Now I know we’ve all been one once….. a teenager that is, and for most of us I’m sure we were all moody at some point. I know I was moody, I remember thinking my parents had no idea how hard my life is, but I really don’t think I was as insolent and egocentric as my eldest has been lately.  (Well, I hope I wasn’t) He seems to have enjoyed the bit of freedom I’ve given him and decided that he wants it all ….now. He wants to be treated like and adult, wants to make all the decisions about his life, without any assistance from any parental figure (what would we know) yet still be financed, fed, watered, taxied and sheltered without so much as a thank you. 
Last weekend said teenager asked if he could go to a friends house on the public holiday Monday. I said it wasn’t a problem as long as he was home by 1200 as I’d already made arrangements to meet a friend at 1230. I stupidly thought we’d discuss travel arrangements and the finer details in the morning. Silly me. I woke at 0700 to find he had already left. I had no idea what friend he was meeting up with, where he was going or what he was doing. He also thought it was not a good idea to answer his phone when this mother, now a raging dragon, called him. 

At 1130 he texted back apologising for not saying good bye and that he was going to head home after he had gone to McDonald’s for lunch. The dragon in me had settled a little and I reminded him that he needed to be home by 1230. I awaited the responding text……. a few minutes later, I get another text saying the train won’t get to the station until 1300, then he had to catch another bus to get home, he’d be lucky to get home by 1400. 

The dragon in me awoke once again. Not only had I been worried sick all morning, but now my plans would have to change once again! I composed myself attempted to calm down my angry texting fingers, which threatened to crack my phone screen with each letter typed, stating I would pick him up from the train station and drive him home. 

He sensed my anger at this point and tried the come up with alternative plans, however, none were going to improve my mood or the need to cancel my plans. 

I then packed my youngest into the car, with many a complaint from him, he was happy chilling at home, and drove to the train station. I used the cruise control the whole way. I was scared my angry accelerating foot, would overpower the sensible me and get me in trouble. I didn’t want to compound my mood with a double demerit speeding fine. 
When I got there, my eldest wouldn’t even look at me. I was able to keep my mouth shut for a whole 27 seconds, before my mouth exploded with what could only be called “accusatory Mum verbal diarrhoea”.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Where were you?”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“What were you doing?”

“Watching wrestling, you don’t even like wrestling!”

“Who were you with?”

“Costa, who on earth is Costa?”

“Where do you know him from?”

“Where does he live?”

“Perth? Where in Perth? Perth isn’t helpful in an emergency!”

“Do you realise that if something happened, I’d have to tell the police the last time I saw you was last night? I had no idea where you were, what you were doing, or who you were with!”
It was at this point I think I took a breath. It was also at this point that I saw in the rear vision, that not only was my son not apologetic, but he had a look of disgust on his face, as if I’d had no right to even ask him these questions. At 16, he was obviously an adult, and what on earth was his Mother raving about?
I stopped. Realised I was getting nowhere. Then just said, I was disappointed. 
A few hours after being home and me not saying another word, he came out of his room and said sorry. In the same breath, he asked what was for dinner.
Back to normal. 
Now I know this is normal, but I wish it could be over now. I want my kind, caring, fun, loving, son back. Not this long haired, infrequently bathed, over deodorised, lout that inhabits the front room of my house. I really hope this stage is short lived.
I really apologise to both my parents for my moodiness. My parents, who for some unexplained reason decided it was a good idea to have 4 children. How they survived the teenage years 4 times over, I’ll never know. xxx

Online dating. Part 2.

Here’s the next instalment…..

Well, I’ve bitten the bullet, after my first disastrous attempt of online dating last year, I’ve finally built up enough courage to try again. Let’s face it, I’m not getting any younger and I’m certainly not going to find my ideal partner whilst working nightshift in a women’s hospital. AND I’ve come to the realisation that I don’t want to grow old, alone and the owner of 27 cats. So….. back on the proverbial horse. 
I had to psych myself up this time around. I had to tell myself not to take things personally, don’t freak out when you get unsolicited dick pics, don’t be so sensitive. Maybe I should lower my standards? Change my parameters for my ideal partner search? Should having ones own teeth really be a priority? Do I really need a man that has the same expectations as me when it comes to personal hygiene? Should I view illicit drug use, just as an optional extra????

In a word no…. I won’t lower my standards, or my search parameters but I no longer look at the photos or age. I’ve gone on dates where they look amazing in the photos and in person they look like Chewbacca. Or they look hideous on their photos and are surprisingly good looking in person. Plus, I’m no Supermodel, so why should I judge a person by their cover? And age….. well, I’m 40 now, no spring chicken myself, who knows what I miss out on if I use +/- 5 years of my age as a criteria. So now I’ve expanded my age search requirements to under 55. 

Since I’ve reactivated my account, I’ve been on 6 dates. They haven’t been all bad. However, I have found that I have absolutely no idea what men think. I think I’m fairly upfront and honest, I don’t play games, and I’ll always be kind and let people down easily if I think it’s not working. Most men don’t seem to play by the same rules.

I went on one date, drove 50km to meet up with him, chatted away for hours over brunch, thought we had a good time and had a connection, he said that next time, he’d drive up to my area for a date, to never hear from him again. 

I’ve gone on other dates that said on their profile that they want a relationship, want to find a partner to spend their lives with, to learn pretty quickly that they just want to hook up. Come on guys, just say what you mean/want. I’m sure there’s girls out there wanting the same thing. 

One guy I met up with, after texting for weeks, looked fantastic on paper, we liked similar things, both worked in caring professions. But when we met up, he had the personality of wet toilet paper. So I ended it gently but pretty quickly. 

I have had luck making another friend however. This guy was great, perfect gentleman on our coffee date. We were both quite shy, don’t have a huge circle of friends, kids aren’t needing us as much. The only problem, was that he was a male version of myself. It would have been like dating me! Weird, really weird. But, we get along like we’ve known each other for ages. Everything was easy. So we’ve decided to continue being friends. Everyone can do with more of those. 

The most recent guy is in his 50’s, seems nice so far, had a few dates now and things seem to be going smoothly, I even got flowers and champagne on the first date! So we’ll just have to wait and see what the next few weeks brings. 

So I haven’t fallen in a heap, I haven’t  met with an untimely death, but I don’t think I’ve met the one just yet. 

…….So until the next instalment. 

Everyone should take childless holidays 

Being a single parent is tough. I’m not just talking about single Mums….. but I also take my hat off to those amazing single Dads out there, that do everything they can to make their children’s life as good as it can be. 
As a working single parent, I’m often at the point of exhaustion. Trying to balance work, with home life, Housework with homework, social life or having no life. That’s why my holiday in January was so amazing. Some of you wonderful parents out there may judge me for what I’m about to say, but I had the best time being child free. Did I miss my boys? Of course I did, but would I have given up those 2 child free weeks? Hell no!

I had the most relaxing holiday ever. I took a cruise around the top of Australia with a two friends. We’d never travelled together, actually the other two had never met. Linda a friend I worked with over 20 years ago….. pre children, and Amanda who’s been a fantastic friend for the past 5 years, who I met through a Facebook group. Linda brought her 2 teenage children with her and Amanda and I were childless. 

What was quickly apparent on the cruise, was that we didn’t have to be adults. All those pesky adult decisions and questions we ask as parents on a daily basis such as:  

“How are we going to get there on time, when you kids can’t even get out of bed?”

“What am I going to cook for dinner? How can you lose a shoe since coming home from school?”

“What do you mean you need $10 for an excursion today?”………….

We had none of that. Our biggest decision of the day were: 

“Shall we get a second helping of desert?

“Do we go for a dip in the pool or attempt trivia for the second time today?”

Or…….”Cocktails or shots?”

We even found getting ready for shore excursions a new experience. Initially we would allow ourselves an hour and a half to get out of bed, shower and have breakfast before meeting at the designated meeting place to leave for a tour. We quickly found that it took Amanda and I only 15 minutes to both shower and get dressed. A task that is quite impossible to do in that time frame at home, with children, who for purely selfish reasons want to be fed, dressed and constantly prompted to attend to their own needs. 

Tours themselves were amazing, no children asking when we’d get there, not having to find a toilet for said children, when they are “busting” at a moments notice, no complaints about being hungry/thirsty/tired/sick/bored/need the go to the toilet. We were just able to relax, actually relax and able to enjoy commentary by the tour guide, taking in the scenery, being able to take photos, not missing the wildlife when pointed out. 

Socialising, which is a fairly new activity for me, was great. We met an amazing couple from Canada, that, luckily for us, were very intelligent. They were a great asset to our trivia attempts and we actually won a few! Everyone loves a free lanyard or water bottle. 

As I’m fairly new to the whole bar and drinking scene, I was keen to try and get out most nights after a show. After a few glasses of liquid courage I was able to dance the night away and met some amazing girls with whom I hope to cruise with again. 

All in all it was an absolutely, amazing, relaxing, rejuvenating holiday and I would really encourage all parents single or otherwise, to take some child free time away. It’s certainly made me a better, happier Mum

Happy New Year

As many of you said goodbye to 2016 and celebrated the New Year, there were a few of us not out there partying. A few of us were totally sober, not dancing the night away, not chatting up complete strangers, not counting the New Year in or getting a New Years kiss. Emergency services, hospital staff, prison guards and those poor sods pouring your alcoholic beverages and providing security at all those parties you were at, were all working. All missing out on the fun and frivolities with friends and pounding headache that usually ensues on New Years Day. I was one of those few. My godsend of a Mother cared for my boys so that I could work, so she too was unable to socialise with friends and see the New Year in. 

This year, I would have loved to have had the night off, but as I was rostered on, so I was determined to make it a good one. As all nursing staff know, us nurses, doctors and ward clerks can put on a good spread of food and non alcoholic beverages, when the need arises. We did not disappoint, we had fruit platters (for those attempting to be somewhat healthy), cheese and cracker selections, chips, chocolates and sparkling apple juice to toast the occasion. My only concern was that we’d be too busy to countdown into the New Year. I worked last Christmas and New Years as well, it was rather unfortunate that my colleague and I completely missed the New Year arriving as we were busy. My poor offsider was actually in the middle of giving an enema as 2016 rolled in. Not a pleasant experience for either party, I can assure you. (But I can happily report the end result was worth it for the patient.) By the time we realised it was the 1st of January, it was already 15 minutes into the New Year, a little anticlimactic. So my goal for this year was to just have a minute, patient free at 11.59 to countdown into the New Year. Luckily we weren’t busy, but at 11.50pm we had a new patient present to the triage desk. We thought we were doomed, however it was a false alarm. They’d presented to the wrong hospital. Phew, crisis averted. 

Thankfully, at 11.59 and 30 seconds, no patients needed our immediate attention, so we quickly poured our plastic glasses of Appletizer, and counted in glorious 2017 all together at the triage desk. After guzzling my sparkly, the bell to the ambulance entrance promptly sounded, calling an end to our magnificent 35 seconds of partying and we continued on our merry way, working the night away. 

As New Years Day 2017, arrived on a Sunday, not only did the masses have Sunday to rest and recuperate, but Monday off as well. I like countless others, have worked the last 5 nights and still have 2 more 12 hour shifts before I can enjoy days off. As my days off begin, when everyone else has gone back to work, there’ll be no celebrating or socialising with friends for me. I’ll be sleep deprived and cranky, trying to put on a happy face for my boys who’ve hardly seen their mother over the last week and attempt to do some fun, school holiday activities that won’t break the bank. 

So next year when you’re out partying over the festive season, spare a thought for those people that are hard at work, protecting serving and caring for the community, so you can relax and enjoy yourself and be safe.

Wishing everyone and Very Happy New Year and an amazing 2017!


Cleaning, it’s torture. Pure and simple. I’m not one of those people who loves to have a clean and tidy house at all times. I don’t think cleanliness is next to godliness. It’s torture. A never ending list of things I need to do. A list of jobs that I don’t want to, or more realistically never fully achieve. As soon as you finish one job, there’s another one waiting. If you ever finish the list of duties (something dreams are made of) the kids come home and destroy the clean house in a matter of moments. Clothes and shoes are stripped off, lunch boxes and water bottles are thrown on the bench. Disheveled pieces of artwork spilling out of school bags, the overused glitter making its way into every nook and cranny of the house. If it was just me in the house I wouldn’t mind so much. I don’t use a different glass every time I need to quench my thirst. I don’t change my clothes every 30min. I don’t leave my wet towels on the floor of my bedroom, and my aim on the toilet is pretty darn good. But having children ensures that house cleaning is akin to Dante’s circles of Hell! 
I’m sitting here blogging in a successful attempt to procrastinate a little longer to get out of cleaning. Dishes need to be done, folding and ironing are waiting, beds are unmade and floors need to be vacuumed. But do you know what? It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t get done, the kids really don’t care. As long as they’re fed and their electronic devices are charged, they are happy. So for all of those out there stressing about having a clean house…. chill, take a day off, binge watch a series of Netflix, the world won’t end, the kids won’t care and the list of torture will still be there tomorrow. 

Turning 40

So….. I made it, I’ve hit the big 4-0. The world didn’t end and I don’t feel any different, other than being tired after having a big weekend of parties, family dinners, paintballing, watching football and having sick kids at home. I really don’t know what the big fuss about turning 40 is all about. No one treats me any differently, I don’t feel any older or indeed wiser. In fact, I don’t think I need that hip replacement just yet and I’ve cancelled my nursing home placement. My kids still need me…… especially when I’m indisposed on the toilet or trying to catch a few minutes of shut eye. I still have meals to prepare and bills to pay. I still have to go to work tonight and take the kids to school in the morning. 
In fact there may be only one thing to fear from getting older…… my tolerance for rude and judgmental people seems to be disappearing. I fear that my tolerance is decreasing quicker than my age is increasing. I may end up a very cantankerous old woman by the ripe old age of 41! So sorry boys ?
So thanks to all those who got me to 40, thanks to those who celebrated with me (albeit whilst I was already asleep) and thanks to all those who will put up with me being a 40 plus something cranky woman. 


Friends, I don’t have a huge circle of friends that I socialise with. I have work friends, that I see at work, and occasionally go out with, I have church friends, that have been really supportive when I needed it and I have a few really close friends that really, know me….I mean really know me. The friends that know my secrets, seen me at my best and at my worst, held me when I cried and made me laugh when I needed it. Friends that don’t pity me, or my situation, friends that I can rely upon when I need them. Friends that I might not see in years, but it feels exactly the same when we finally catch up again. These small group of friends come from all walks of life, I’ve met them through work, university, Facebook groups and RSVP of all places. After this big weekend, and an even bigger roller coaster of a year, I’m so thankful to such amazing friends. So thank you all xxx

Missing the kids

How is it we can miss the children terribly when they are not with us, but within 10 minutes of them coming home you wonder why you missed them at all?My house has gone from a clean, tidy, peaceful oasis, to looking like the aftermath of tsunami, smelling of teenage boys (akin to road kill left in the sun for a week) and with Adam making the noise which sounds very much like the old television test pattern sound. Why didn’t I appreciate the peace, the cleanliness, the order, the smells of my coconut and mango diffuser?? 
Why? Because I’m a mum. As mums, we feel a little lost when our kids aren’t with us. We are so used to putting them first. I don’t know if this will change when then they grow up and leave home (if I should be so lucky) It’s okay when I’m working, because I’m busy, I’ve got a purpose. But when I’m off work and the boys are at their Dads, I feel like a ship without and anchor. It doesn’t help that I work shift work and not all my friends can socialise on a Thursday in the middle of the day, to distract me. They have “normal” jobs. So I generally clean, wash and iron, watch Netflix and catch up on sleep. But I feel like a part of me is missing. So I count down the hours until they come home. I’m ecstatic when I pick them up from school and all the way home……. then it all begins again. The the cleaning up, the deodorising, the running around and the wishing I could just have a moments peace. 

Where do all the good socks go?

I’m sure it’s not just me, I buy my children countless socks, yet I always seem to end up with a pile of single socks that seem to mock me. I wash pairs of socks, but only single ones come out clean. The pile seems to be getting bigger. I’m beginning to think it’s a conspiracy. Call me paranoid, but how else can you explain it?? The sock companies come and steal socks mid wash cycle, just so I buy more? Do they have fairies to do their bidding? If so, I could probably employ them for other than nefarious purposes. I mean stealing socks can’t be fun. I can’t imagine they’d pay well either. So if you are a nefarious fairy reading this blog, I’d pay you to leave my socks in the wash and I have many other jobs available. 
Now my dilemma, whilst I’m fairy-less is……do I keep gathering these odd socks? Or do I throw them out and start again?
I mean it’s getting ridiculous now. 

Any suggestions or theories? Let me know!

The Ordinary Life of a Single Mum, navigating parenthood, working full time and attempting to have a social life.


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