1 December 2005

it's not all a bed of [David Austin] roses

Thanks to some comments recently concerning how beautiful I am (fibs from a rather loyal friend), and what a stunning parent and housekeeper I am (ha, you should see this place today) I realised that it is extraordinarily easy to make one's life sound idyllic on one's blog. [With the exception of yesterday's post, which I suspect lost me some regular readers. But perhaps gained me a new one or two?]

Anyway if not idyllic, then at least filled with freshly baked muffins, roses, regular cultural visits to orchestras and galleries, opera clothes and amazing artworks, all accompanied by the sounds of delightful and talented (not to mention stunningly beautiful) children playing harmoniously together in the background while one hums the odd Handel aria. In tune.

This slightly warped representation of life happens without my really meaning it to. After all, who wants to write about (or photograph) the dead flowers in the vase, dustbunnies on the floor, obstreperous children whacking each other over the head because "he did it first", laundry and the weather? Not me.

So, in case anyone was foolishly under the impression that they should live vicariously through me, (because I sooo do this myself via others ... hi Jane! Hi!!), I hereby present to you the seedier side of life Chez Soup lately.

• the geriatric cat crapped on the front verandah immediately prior to an Open for Inspection. I trust you all know how vile cat poo is
• remember these curtains? How they drape richly and billow voluptuously over the floor at the bottom? Um, that's because they still have raw, unhemmed bottoms. I fervently hope that none of the prospective buyers viewing our home touched them and uncovered my shameful secret. I will get around to hemming them before the new owners move in. Honest.
• we had a cold snap, the heating clicked on, and I paid for my sins
• in a moment of weakness, I did the non-Steiner/Waldorf thing and let the children watch a (carefully chosen) video
• immediately following the video, they went feral, irrefutably proving once again that tv is evil and they should never ever watch it again until they turn 18
• dying lilies drop yellow pollen. This stains pale coloured carpet
• a cockroach ran across the kitchen floor this morning. Unlike those tropical, damp northern cities, we, in the southern Australian city, are not used to this. And so we find it disgusting and alien and we tend to shriek like fishwives. (Apologies to any readers who are married to fishhusbands.)
• I am wearing tracksuit pants, a misshapen brown cardigan, hand-knitted slippers and a flowery apron right this minute
• I am very tired and my head aches
• I spent a lot of last month crying. I think I had some sort of meltdown
• I just noticed Son #3's snot on my shoulder, which I believe eventuated from the "he did it first" incident (see above)
• the snails ate all my basil seedlings
• this really really pisses me off
• I have dear friends who live in faraway countries. I have no money for airfares
• thanks to Son #3 creeping into my bed during a nightmare and snuggling oh so close, as is his wont, I am now sleep deprived and cranky
• I have come to the sad middle-aged realisation that my cello and I will never be part of the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra
• ditto the Chorale (minus the cello. Obviously)
• I have split ends
• I am becoming very used to a regular, nightly glass of wine. Or two. Sometimes I think this shows in my blog (pics of the dog’s bottom and so on). And so, from now on? More pretty pictures, less crap. Okay?

Note to self: check diary. May be premenstrual?


Miss Eagle said...

For a poet, there is poetic licence. What can we use for a blogger?

jorth said...

And on top of all that, it's very very hot today! (which makes me cranky as I don't have a car, nor do I know how to drive one anyway, thus I have to do all my errands with a hot and tired 18 month old who won't sleep when she's supposed to and moans most of the night because she's teething).

Phew - glad I got that off my chest. May tomorrow be a happy day for all of us!

SueeeuS said...

Your life is still beautiful. All of it. Obstreperous! What a fine word. I nearly laughed aloud at the part where the heat kicked in and you paid for your sins.

I've stained many things with lily pollen, but what can you do. The flowers are stunning and we MUST have them.

I miss you too, and I didn't fib!

I hope you can de-stress and feel calm and settled and on top of the world again soon. Thinking of you often....

telfair said...

I have to say, I'm a little relieved to hear that your seemingly elegant and symmetrical life has a few bumps. I was beginning to wonder what I was doing wrong in my own life!!
PS -- any readers that you lose as a result of yesterday's post weren't worth having anyway. It just makes more room for true fans.

Kim said...

Yes but Suse...
- your slippers are knitted and HAND knitted at that
- you wear aprons
- you like AND grow roses
- you are a GOOD parent in the whole television watching caper - I lasted until the eldest was about 3. That was when my meltdown was at its worst and is still a work in progress.

I hear you on the crying and no money for airfares. How I burn to show, as in really physically show (not sit and pour over an atlas) my children the world.

Meanwhile, I've come over all paranoid and am wondering why I spent so much time working out photo templates and comprising witty posts to have no one comment. NO ONE. Hmm must have been something I said.

And NO - not less crap, we want the crap and the pretty pictures because, well, that is you. And that is what keeps us all coming back for more.

Kim said...

which raises the whole question of does it matter? am I really doing this for comments? weird huh.

Jane said...

Hi! Enjoyed today's vicarious foray into the less-than-perefct side of your life. I really daren't get started on the crap - it'd spiral out of control and wouldn't be pretty!

I'm still in awe of your bravery yesterday. I love this conceptual relationship stuff - no matter which way you swing. And I thinks it's brave to challenge our everyday sense of self and admit it's very much more complex than we usually allow.

Deecember is the nadir of the year for me. It's good to read that it's not all perfect elsewhere.

Sharon said...

I just love your blog... It makes me realise that there are other people living out there that make my life seem sane...You bring a smile to my face which lately is an ask!!!! Keep it up...

blackbird said...

and so,
the trick now, for us (you and I), would be to resist listing my crappe...as WE have no need to compete...(even though I have been to the pediatrician 4 times in two weeks?)
gorgeous here in Tuvalu today!

Bec of the Ladies Lounge said...

Re - the David Austin-rose-coloured glasses: I reckon they're fine so long as they regularly slip off, like tonight! I love showing off my beautiful children with their clever doings, but on reflection this is definitely a case of using the exceptions to deny the rule. Blogging can capture the best moments while I live through the worst...
Re - the video... You do know that non-Steiner children have the opposite reaction, don't you? I have no thoughts on whether this is a good thing.
Re - the cockroaches... So many Sydney siders hate cockroachers, I've always thought they didn't bother me because I grew up cockie-free? I confess I only pretend to hate cockroaches when I want the Prof to pick them up instead of doing it myself. Really, they don't bother me at all. However, the kids are terrified so we pay for special environmentally sound powder-spraying every year.
Re - the glass or two of whine - oops, wine ... the Prof went back to the office after dinner tonight so I am finishing off the bottle for him. Yes, I am verbosely CUI (commenting under the influence?)
And finally, yes, sweetness, check the calendar cause you sound a lot like me with PMT!

Bec of the Ladies Lounge said...

Oh shit, I forgot that I was supposed to say that on this particular occasion Michele sent me but you know I'd have been here anyway, don't you?

robin said...

i heart you! and you ARE beautiful. and not just precisely because of the snot on your shoulder, but that is beautiful too. in a way. i know you know what i mean...

Elizabeth said...

Okay, so I did write about dust bunnies today ( and retching!) so what does that say about me? Btw, I live vicariously through Janes blog too. Doesn't everybody?

kate said...

There must be something about the day that made us all post our 'dirty laundry.' Glad I am not alone. :)

shellyC said...

I loved you when you and your home was perfect!!! Now I love you more!!!!!!!!!

Di said...

Very funny- Bring on the blogetic license I say (the less snot the better).
Although it is nice to know that your life is just as real as the rest of us (Jane aside).
... and I'm gratefully thinking we'll have less likelihood for "paying for our sins" too if we sell in Feb.

sooz said...

Hi Suse and thanks for your comment on my blog and setting me straight about various geographical residences. AND so nice to meet another Melbourne girl AND another suse, even if I had to spend 10 wretched hours on a plane to do it! Love your blog. Look forward to adding to my list of addictive sites :-)

Kim said...

I now kill cockcroaches with my bare hands or toes... Who has time to go and get paper towel or a shoe?

dani said...

you never get used to cockroaches, especially the flying variety even if you grew up in sydney.

cat poo/piss is the one of vilest thing's a nose can smell. i hope it doesn't affect the sale of the house.

you are great! love your blog!

Wren said...

Hey, we all have a seedier side of life. Sometimes we are on top of it, sometimes we are buried underneath it with only a bent straw to breath through. Yikes, you are juggling so, so much right now. So, Honey, shout if it all gets too much, we come not for the images of a perfect life, but because you have touched something inside those of us who are making the journey with you.

christina said...

OH suse this post made my day. Is that sick to say? Perhaps. But it was so real it was delightfully funny. I'm so prone to sounding idyllic. And when life isn't, I come up short, groping about for what to write about. You on the other hand put together a hysterical list (oh cat poo is so vile!) of the things that make you human (if not wickedly funny). Thank you for keeping it real.

jak said...

your amazing-to put all that everyday stuff-ok I don't have a cat pooing on my veranda-but I did have my old blind yellow lad-pee on the side door yesturday! did I mention he is a large lab-with a big bladder!-anyway-you manage to make it sound so-well, lovely-