Tuesday, 5 May 2009

Happy Thirty-Tenth Birthday, Linda and Leigh

Last Friday, I was throwing clothes into a suitcase for a weekend away with my husband sans children and I hear a glass smash, then a baby crying. I started running before I could actually run, like a cartoon ... so tore my calf muscle, neatly in half. Flapping in the breeze. It felt like a jelly blubber, just blobloblboblbob and HEY PRESTO! Mummy can't walk! But baby was still crying so mummy walks anyway to find blood streaming down her babies FACE. A quick wash down to find the cut .... a teeny cut on his pinky, but he's thoughtfully wiped the blood all over his face, just to, you know, fuck with mummy!!

So then I hurled abuse at Dave down the phone (because obviously it was Daves fault, derrr!) and got in the car and took Max to soccer, crying but stopping before any other soccer mums see me. (Because we all live in pretend-land, where nothing ever goes wrong. Right?)
My calf was hurting like a bastard and I still hadn't packed, but I just took my shoes off and planted my feet in wet grass. All these years later I still have a wise mans voices implanted in my brain when I go beyond Thunderdome into Kookyland: "Eden, you need to ground yourself. Get outside and stomp around with no shoes on. Feel the earth on your feet and breathe."

So I did and I felt better. I wondered how was I going to go on a weekend away with my husband when I'm giving him the silent treatment?

We did go away ... we exchanged a few f-bombs to each other in the car on the way down, and then proceeded to have the best weekend we have had together in YEARS. He got lucky, I got to sleep in the day, we both read magazines in bed. On Saturday night we went to some certain twin sisters' Thirty-Tenth birthday party, woooot! They looked hot, I was limping but still had a bit of a crump, there was free pizza, what more could you ask for??

During a delicious dinner of ribs and rocket salad one night, Dave looked at me and said, OMG how long have we been together?? (Nine years). How many kids do we have? Who are we? SHIT. Fully spun himself out. Was ve-ry funny to watch. Then I saw his face furrow over. What's wrong? I asked him. We were smack bang in the middle of a crowded restaurant, filled with pretty young things. He looks down at his khaki work shirt. "I'm dressed like Steve fucking Irwin."

It took every ounce to not laugh and point and say "WHAT A LIL RIPPER!" Because he so totally did look like Steve Irwin. I said, "Maaaate ... you look cool. It's fine - at least you can walk properly. I'm Limpy Limpster."

My sisters are now forty. We gave them extravagent presents this year, because they just so totally deserved them. But nothing I give them can ever properly show our gratitude at being there for our family last year. The chemo runs. The strained soup. The lentil sausage casserole story (HAHAHAHAHAHA) .... the love and compassion.

I have two big sisters and I totally want to be like them when I grow up.

Here is a pic of Leigh on the night:


Oh wait - no, here she is. Kept calling herself Mr Strong all night. BECAUSE SHE IS HILARIOUS LIKE THAT. (When she put her arms up her dress went square).

Dave and I got back to the hotel on Saturday night and ordered an eighteen dollar hamburger. We then spooned, talking and laughing. This never happens, as he is a freak morning person and I am a night owl. He was so chatty. I said, "Hey, can I tell you how I made swine flu?!"

"Sure!" He laughed.

"Well, I made a big pot of pea and ham soup on Friday morning. I kept two rashers of bacon aside, thinking I'd fry it up for Max to have a bacon sandwich before soccer training. Except I forgot about the rashers, and at 5pm that evening, saw them sitting forlornly on the kitchen bench. So then, (laughing) ...." nudging Dave."Hey, I'm telling you a funny story!"


"So, I lift up the rashers and there's all this pig sweat formed underneath the bacon rashers, and I think, cool, I've totally formulated the Worlds First Riley Strain of Swine Flu."

Laughs hysterically. Dave is silent. "DAVE."

He sits up. "What the fuck are you talking about, swine fucken soup flu?? Go to sleep!"

Bed shakes from my laughter.

He gets the shits. "STOP LAUGHING!"

"But I made swine flu!"

"Seriously hon. Come ON."


  1. Those babies are good for scaring us, aren't they! So mean and unfair, mostly because we can't do it back ;o) Hope your calf feels better. Glad you had a weekend away with your hunk of a man.

  2. And you survived with only an f-bomb or two? Not bad. Poor Mum!

  3. Sounds fun except that leg muscle thing. That sounds pretty awful. Glad you had a weekend away with your honey. Happy birthday to your sisters!

  4. definitely using that title for me on my bday coming up...

  5. WOW your sisters are freaking HOT!!!

  6. Oh and you were totally right. You fully went all out with the full-on pressies this year. Seriously! You are going to have to stop with the thank-you-ever-so-grateful-for-helping-out-with-the-cancer-thing-here's-a-present or you'll have to get a second job and Dave will have to start busking and you'll both have to sell the house!!!
    I LOVE my pressies tho, totally over the top, but totally awesome (just like you and Dave) xox

  7. ARRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrg. Don't you love that one ... the tiny cut = buckets of blood thing. I wonder how many of my nine lives are left?

    LOVE the triple threat at the top. Three headed GORGEOUS.


  8. Happy Bday Eden's sisters :) You three are gorgeous!

    This whole post just made me smile. Especially the laughing swine flu story as Dave tries to sleep.


  9. Oh I totally remember the lentil casserole thing...

    and I just remember thinking 'your sisters rock' -- and they do...and no surprise you're all blessed with the good looking gene....

    I love reading about you and Dave-- you write it all -- I can never write about the fights G and I have -- mostly because I dissolve into a puddle of pathetic tears -- no fire in me -- I'd like some of yours please...

    and my GOD look at that photo of you two at the end -- you've come out the other side...

    Goes without saying -- I love you Eden -- hope your leg is healing...



  10. Remember your post about a tiny bit of wee coming out?

    Um, yeah.

    Steve Irwin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You are much more restrained than I am, I would have been shouting it out for the whole restaurant to hear.

    And your swine flu breeding ground story is awesome, too. I love the thought of you just convulsing with laughter while Dave is cuddling you, all mystified and grumpy and sleepy.

    You well and truly rock, my gorgeous brilliant friend. Take care of that leg.

  11. Apart from the painful leg and the bloody cheek...your post made me laugh.
    You rock Eden.
    Great pics too!

  12. Hi Eden!

    I've been reading your great blog for quite a while now (I found you through Pam), but am only now de-lurking. Well, sort of. I am one of your followers, so I suppose I've already de-lurked to a degree. :)

    Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and happy birthday to your sisters. (I know a little bit about Tee through her old blog--when is she coming back to blogland, btw?)

    I always enjoy your honest, funny, intelligent writing, and I think you have a beautiful family.

    I am in awe of you and your husband, and the amazingly difficult year you've come through. You are an inspiration.


  13. Happy birthday to your twinnie sibs, and ouch on the calf. Just ouch!



  14. Eden, you are a riot and I love you!
    You and your husband are a very handsome couple and what awesome kids you have made!

  15. Happy 40th to your beautiful sisters. I pray that my girls have a wonderful relationship like your sisters do, and that a third child after twons will be just as close to them, as you are to yours.

    Wish I was there to party with you!

  16. I sat here on the couch going "OWOWOWOWOWOW!" at your description of your calf tearing. I hope you're feeling better now. Uuurrrg!

    You all look beautiful; I love that last pic. You and Steve Irwin, who'd have thought it?

    Today I was brushing Sam's teeth while he was in his high chair and when I looked up blood was pouring out of his ear. Turns out he'd only scratched himself but aaagggh! It only took me a tenth of a second to have him diagnosed with some sort of brain hemorrhage. I should have known he was just trying to keep up with his soul brother Rocco.



Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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