Epic fail

My nephew turns 14 today. Happy birthday nephew!

It seems like only yesterday that he was three months old … and I was on my way to a job interview to be editor of Woman’s Day … and made the mistake of offering to change his nappy … and scored a golden shower of the infant kind …

Cheers, mate.

Last night was a shower of rice and fried egg kind instead as we celebrated his birthday at a local teppanyaki restaurant.

I am VERY uncoordinated. One of my dearest friend’s held her 40th birthday party at a bowling alley and my sorry attempts at bowling became everyone’s entertainment for the night. It was HARROWING.

Pretty much like my attempts to catch fried egg in my mouth …

Hopeless.

Unlike my nephew, who caught everything like A BOSS.

Fortunately my offspring are waaaay more coordinated than me.

The youngest’s eyes went all wide and glassy like she was on drugs when I told her we were going to teppanyaki. Teppanyaki is her nine-year-old version of drugs. She’s totally addicted.

Teppanyaki and her COUSIN … well, that’s just an embarrassment of riches.

I was sooooo tired by the time we arrived at the restaurant. My day started way too early when the eldest rolled onto her stuffed howler monkey at 4.30am.

I woke with a jolt to the sound of primate wails reverberating through the silent house. As I attempted to drift back to sleep, the eldest’s latest installment of Twilight tumbled to the floor with an encyclopedia-like clunk … and I was done with sleeping for the night. Sob.

Yet a whole day of working a parenting and partying still lay before me.

Gifts for a 14-year-old are tricky things. We gave my nephew a variety of frisbees, which he and the youngest proceeded to ill-advisedly toss around the house, resulting in the destruction of a ceramic photo frame. Oooops.

Sorry, sis.

Then teppanyaki, a dip in my sister’s fabulous spa, cake, kisses all round and finally home.

I showered the youngest at 9.30pm and tottering to bed around 10.

Shattered.

Today dawns, packed to the gills.

DD is collecting me at 9.30am for brunch with a former colleague in the city. Then I’m driving to Newcastle for my high school reunion.

When I finally return, there will be no food in the house, but plenty of dirty dishes still in the sink, dirty washing still in the laundry … dirty everything really.

Then the week will start all over again, with Groundhog Day-like determination.

Blardy hell.

Why do I do it to myself?

Tell me – what’s in store for your weekend?

PS: I won’t be blogging tomorrow, I’m giving myself a day off as I’m ex-Sydney.

Song of the day: Snow Patrol “Chasing Cars”