Let Them Eat Cake

The living incarnation of my blog

Alright - yes, this is getting really sad now.  My blog is limping on more slowly than those poor suckers who finish marathons about 6 hours after everyone else.  I mean the barriers have already been packed up and the cars are back on the road - there's not a drink station in sight and still that sad fool shuffles on.  Nobody is even watching, and anyone who is, just thinks "Give up now mate, get it over with, nobody cares dickhead"  Yet the limping tragic case keeps dragging those blistered feet.  A rare clap and a "You can do it buddy" just prolongs the misery.  So my advice - don't do it.  Don't even pretend you care.  You would be doing me a disservice to acknowledge my pitiful existence.  But still, I shrug off your apathy - I will cross that finish line, if I have to do it on my knees with chunder all over my shoes......

And so I will........

Let the holidays continue……Seriously I have never known a country to have so many holidays and celebrations as Israel.  Maybe I'm mistaken, but there seems to be a hell of a lot of calls to do random shit and mark it with a public holiday or two.  Particularly annoying to myself is the amount of days off my children seem to have from school.  Look, I love my children as much as the next person (I assume so anyway - I might not be posting inspirational parental style quotes on facebook, but I'm pretty sure I still like them very much) - But lets be honest - my babies are so much more pleasant be around when time spent entertaining them is limited.  Am I alone here - and more to the point, am I a bitter and cruel parent? - Well it's debatable, and something you can question Vali and Cordi about when you next see them.   Actually Cordi declared the other day that she was planning on finding a new Mummy and Daddy that would let her play "Palace Pets" on the iPad anytime she liked.  So I guess her answer would sway heavily in the yay.  Fair enough, and good luck love.  You can also ask your new parents how they cope with salvaging an apartment that looks like a monster vomited a toy shop on it daily.  Does anyone else also feel like they are a complete slave to their children's whims on a regular basis?  The little fuckers have us by the nuts and they know it.  My girls seem to have developed a recent fondness for changing outfits about 6 times a day and slopping crap all over them.  Lets just all do a whole lot more washing than we need to, as I honestly feel like 3 loads a day isn't enough.  The folding is the worst too.  I've taken to just spreading it all over the floor in the bomb shelter, but I think that it just encourages more changes.

If the religious love it, then we can love it too

So welcome to Lag BaOmer.  A completely random occasion which occurred mid May, and I just can't work out what it's about.  What I do know is that it involves lighting bonfires all over the city and shooting bow and arrows about the place.  A couple of activities that you really want a couple of 4 year old psychopaths with omnipotent power to engage in.  I dropped in to picked them up from school, and 15 little shits all shot me in the head with plastic arrows.  They may not have been sharpened, but still, an arrow in the face is an arrow in the face.  Vali actually worked on her technique for days and became quite proficient. My husband suggested getting her a proper archery set - Jesus CHRIST I don't think so.  Forget Katniss - hasn't he seen "We Need To Talk About Kevin".  And sorry about the spoiler, but it's the husband who copped one directly to the heart, so go for it darling.  No Palace Pets bitches????? Well take that - POW.

I don't care if it's pink you evil little fuck

Ah yes, my children made cupcakes with logs and candy flames on them on a playday....

It's all fun and games until it escapes the pole

Prancing about a bonfire wouldn't exactly be my recommended child activity either - and I just can't see this going down in Australia.  Yet Tel Avians were sparking them up all over town that night.  I passed on that one - and it was an incredibly hot night too that particular evening.  I tell you what though - I really miss firecracker night.  That was some great stuff as a child.  We all remember those Catherine Wheels that got free from the nail on our backyard fences and raced along the ground up our mother's skirts while they screamed in fear and agony.  I don't think my mother ever wore a skirt to firecracker night again.  Such quality entertainment.  And how about when the Roman Candles took a tumble and started shooting everyone and you all ran yelling and fighting each other to get away from those jolly 3rd degree burns.

Grow a pair bitch

Then your parents would try and tone down the mood and hand out sparklers and you'd be like "L A M E - bring out the jumping jacks so I can throw them at someone".  I do have some bad memories as a teenager going down to the oval at Nutgrove Beach in Tasmania with a Jan Sport backpack full of crackers and it was flat-out war down there.  Truly terrifying.  I think I ripped my shorts scaling a fence to get away from some particular gung-ho lads that were trying to shoot me with some rockets.  No wonder they banned it actually.

Well I won't now

Here's something sweet and wholesome to try and wipe the last image from your mind......

The sweet smell of dairy products baking in the midday sun

And last week came Shavuot - another mystery to me - but apparently it was a festival to celebrate wheat - yet everybody eats fruit and dairy, and kids wear flowers in their hair.  And I guess God also gave the bible out to everyone a fair while back so that warrants some kind of recognition around here.  But religious documents aside, it's like a cheese fest for Africa around these parts.  And, you guessed it, more days off school.  I liked this one though - the food flowed thick and fast and we had a big family lunch and totally pigged out on various dairy goods.  Fuck the figs, it's all about the cheesecake people and don't you forget it.  I made a white chocolate mud cake as part of the premature celebrations for my daughters 5th birthday which is fast approaching.  It was a complete and utter abortion (no offence to foetuses).  The recipe called for about 6  blocks of white chocolate, 2 blocks of butter and multiple cups of sugar - so obviously it was a healthy number.  I couldn't even look at the   lump of lard again, so immediately piffed out the leftovers.  What a mistake.  I dreamt of scouring the rubbish at my sister in laws place later that evening.  Yet there will be more cake.  And more.

Its not your birthday yet girls, hold onto your loads

Really struggling to stay in control of the icing here

I have two birthday parties to execute this week - as is tradition, they have one in their kindergarten (on Wednesday) and one big one on Friday at some indoor play centre I have booked.  Delegating responsibility is the catch cry of my life this week.  Its worth paying other people big bucks to take twenty 4 year olds out of my sight and entertain them for 2 hours.  I am also paying people to do all the food and cakes.  Why have I never gone this avenue before?  It's inspiring.  Not sure what everyone else will do, but I myself, am going to hide in the food room and drink wine.

Look who found the icing pot....

Part of the reason I am leaving my children's entertainment in the hands of professionals is because we are busting out of here for two and a half months the day following the birthday party.  What a blessing.  The weather is starting to really heat up, and our apartment of windows hits 30 degrees at 8am.  The air conditioner just doesn't quite cut it when competing with a Middle Eastern sun.  I have taken to traipsing the city streets with a sun umbrella lately, which apparently singles me out as a gigantic tourist (as if I needed any help there), and sleazy men now keep introducing themselves to me in English whenever I step a toenail outside the front door. However I am a little bit disappointed to be leaving all the fun that summer here promises.  But surely it's a good thing?  After my solo trip home in March I got a taste of freedom and I just can't let go.  I have had far to many half drunk school runs lately.  Not to mention a night under the stars with everybody's favourite heart throb JT (Justin Timberlake to the thickies), with 50 000 other screaming and creaming women.  I actually mean girls.  I could possibly have been the oldest person there, and that was disheartening.  Old people can love JT too bitches.

That's a lot of held up phones....Oh, I'm doing it too

JT I'm hot for you baby!!! 

Utter self pity the morning after - oh and a posing selfie

I could be getting a nasty reputation among the other kindergarten mothers who are entirely sick of my Friday morning vodka breathe.  Adding further suspicions about my character was the good old black eye from an unfortunate stumble into a nightclub wall.  Thus I think my time is almost up.  I may have never removed my sunglasses during those three healing weeks, but word spreads.  The jig is up - Vali and Cordi's mother is a delinquent yobbo.  The black eye really was particularly embarrassing - not just for me but also for my husband.  The guy at my corner store still thinks I was bashed and encourages me in a whispered voice "Tell me anything" every time I go and get milk.  It was nice however, to get a bit of mileage out of it by suddenly yelling out in public to my beloved whenever he annoyed me "Please NOOOOO, don't do it again, I'll do anything……ANYTHING".  However, after Cordi ran into a tree a couple of days later, it actually looked like the poor misunderstood bastard beats not only his wife, but his child as well.  Sucked to be him that week.  What can I say - like mother like daughter.  Takes one un-co to breed another.

Hmmm I suspect Emily could be a total dick.

So I guess I should get packing sooner or later, but not before I have my final fun with my darling old school chum and her amazing partner and their cherubic two year old……and not to mention all the so longs to my Tel Aviv family and friends - and maybe one more night living large as a hooligan.  Walls of Tel Aviv beware.....

When Lulu comes to town who knows how far it will go.....