Taxing Times

Confessions of a wannabe accountant...

Ever since clearing my hefty HECS debt

I get a tad smiley about the end of the financial year.

Like one of those irritating EOFYS ads -  without the S.

Tax time is looming...and my excitement is building!

I've never, never, not ever had my tax 'done'.

That would be like paying someone to go out and run for me or shop on my behalf.

Giving my fun away freely - and paying for the privilege.

Think not.

Even if it is tax deductable.

(I am completely at ease soldier with having other things 'done' though

- hair, nails, waxing, boobs... please.)

I delight in receipt accumulation from July to June

- spiking those babies regularly.



Have you seen anything so beautiful??

Then, come June 30, I get to sort through Mount Receiptmore and categorise those little beauties into different mini mountains based on their 'powers of deduction'.

The next phase of the game involves waiting oh so (im)patiently for our friendly Australia Post representative to bring home the bacon - or the group certificates and other documentation really.

Then I can embark on the evenings of online dalliance with my E Tax toyboy, inputting 'data', attempting to make sense of 'subsection3a, point 74, part b' and working my amateur tax man magic.

It's a bit akin to my fascination with The Biggest Loser.

It's all about the numbers.

I do love watching my estimated return bobbing up and down like those stupid electronic scales they have.

Except these days I get to be two fat people stepping on the scales.

Hubby entrusts his tax baby to my care.

I fear, not because of my outstanding skill base but more than likely my proximity to his home.

He's a lazy biggest loser.

So, I bid you goodnight as I head off to download this year's pin up  E Tax file.

Now, should I (or Hubby) incur a tax debt come this July (or any time in the future), I may take a completely different- less smiley - view of the whole square silly season.

Are you a taxtotaller or a taxaholic?

Shar :-)

Rain Rocks!

Nnnnah, it doesn't.
I'm a hater.
A Winter hater.
Cold weather, rainy day, stormy seas hater.


Now, all that hate's no good for anyone.
So in a bid to become more enthused about Winter
(and less like a whinging, whining, wining pensioner)
I thought I'd compile a list of reasons why rain rocks.
A good list is the perfect remedy to any grumble!


Rain rocks because      
 (wish me luck)

 

• we need it (well, thats what I'm told on a super regular basis)
• I don't have to water the plants
• I don't have to feel guily about not washing my car
• Magoo loves puddles
• kids look adorable in raincoats and gumboots
• Hubby's annual Avon Descent adventure is far more satisfying with water in the river
• running in the rain is actually quite invigorating (when it doesn't result in a cold)
• we get to sing rain songs lke 'Rain, Rain, Go Away" and 'Incy Wincy Spider'
• 'fat' days are much easier to hide/ignore under layers
• I don't feel the need to constantly be outside "making the most" of the glorious weather
• there are some super funky, gorgeous umbrellas out there - yep, loved yours Madam Lollipop Lady @ the local school
• I no longer feel as motivated to bolt out of bed at 5.30am. Therefore, morning snuggles are on the up in Winter (pardon the pun)
• if I selfishly choose to go to the gym rather than walk the dog, I have a plausible excuse
• everybody's hair looks like crap so it's an even playing field
• I get to take the trusty old x trail out of 2WD, therefore justifying my unnecessary suburban 4WD
• people slip over - and that's damn funny - whether you want to admit it or not
• my bestie invites us up for Moussaka - yummmm
• I might start to take my beloved Summer months for granted without it



Awww - look how pretty rain is.




Okay, I'm clutching at straws with a few of those, but I'm trying here!


Wishing you a happy, rainy, splashy, frickin muddy footprints everywhere, can't go to the park kinda day.

Shar :-)

So Wrong - It's Right

Ever find yourself laughing when you know you probably shouldn't?
You know, when you're getting a roasting and have a ridiculous urge to crack up?
When you're at a whole school assembly and wonder what would happen if someone stood up and dropped an f bomb on the top of their voice?
At Church, or worse funerals, when overcome by the inappropriate giggles?
When someone slips over or walks into a closed door - and as long as they're okay you want to wet yourself laughing?

This was emailed to me a while ago but I only got around to watching it last night - I'm not a big you tuber.
I'm still giggling, so thought I'd share.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4xUSjftm04

I love Beyonce - and I love an irreverent laugh.
'Single Ladies' must be the most satired track in a long time.
Fat hairy guys, cute kids, pregnant ladies, JT... all gettin their black leotards going on.
Even Magoo shakes his little ringless fingers to her anthems!

Have a happy day - especially all you 'pregnant ladies'.
Shar :-)

Why Play Nice?

As I loaded 5kg of pumpkin into the trolley on the weekend, Magoo questioned "wwhhyyy?" (as he does every time I make a purchase, give a look,  make a turn, refuse a request, take a breath...)
I explained we were going to make soup for our three friends who'd had babies.
(Not all together. 3 families. 3 babies.) 

"Wwhhyy make soop, Mum?"
With a gathering audience in the fruit and veg shop, I answered that it's sometimes tricky to make food when you have a new baby and it's nice if someone else can make you some.

"Wwwhyyy's it niIIce, Mum?"
Long pause as I contemplate that it's nice because they feel a little loved and thought of. It's also nice because I get to feel like a good person (whether I am or not!)

Do I go out of my way for others - for myself?
Do I want to make others feel good - or myself?

To be fair to this 'myself' character - I don't think I'm quite an evil being - so for the most part it's a genuine wish to make life a smidgen easier for a family, brighten a dark hour or show that I'm thinking of someone.

There's an element of recalling those early days of Magoo's life when sleep deprivation and health issues threatened to suck the 'home sweet'  from this home. Then a friend would call, pop by, mail a card at just the right time. Days when friends and work colleagues showed up with a meal in hand and reduced me to a puddle of gratitude.
Pay it forward, me thinks.

Then there's definitely the truth that - being 'nice' feels 'nice'.
It makes me feel good to spread some love, cook a little meal, make a little soup, send a little card, offer a little lift, buy a little something, give a little time.
I'm no Mother Theresa and my cooking is far from husband thieving quality - but it's the gesture, I guess.

These days, there's also the added 'role model' factor. I want Magoo to feel that helping others is just what we do. That you don't hesitate to lend a hand or pitch in. Time giving to others is time well spent - and all that soft stuff!

It's a quality that drew me to Hubby and I love seing him embody this selflessness with Magoo in tow. Hubby doesn't think twice before dropping everything for a mate or giving a neighbour the privilege of his (in)experience. Fixing anybody's anything, chipping in and giving his two cents worth around the place!

I'm not suggesting we're special in any way. I've just admitted that some of my most selfless moments - are actually seflish moments. Plus, we get as good as we give!! We have the luxury of being surrounded by a bunch of people who have exactly the same mindset - and have been on the receiving end of more kindness than we can count. And it's 'nice'!

Why do you play nice?

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Couch Cuddles + Vacuum Kisses



Sunday 11.30am

This weekend was a lovely, slo-o-o-w beautiful.
In direct contrast to last weekend's crazy beautiful - it was much appreciated.


Magoo and I did lots of nothing and plenty all at the same time.
We -

• watched the 'Our Patio Floods' show and turned the heater up!
• took long walks and gave our mature aged puppy much needed exercise
• got drizzled, sprinkled, rained and poured upon
• jumped in the resulting puddles
• played at parks and laughed at our wet butts
• bubbled, kicked, splashed and paddled our hearts out at swimming lessons
• turned a whole lot of pumpkin into a whole lot of soup
• jigsaw puzzled and puzzled and puzzled some more
• had ourselves a lovely  "babytuna" date
• bought birthday gifts (and may have picked up a couple of pairs of shoes for good measure)
• had a breakfast Skype with my gorgeous sis
• selfishly made and ate pancakes while chatting her ear off
• loooved (salivated over) the bumper toy catalogues far more than we should have
• swept a million or so little unwelcome squirmy visitors off the patio
• marvelled a being you-know-where this time last week and doing you-know-what
• snuggled on the couch with The Muppets and our trackies
• competed in vacuuming races and stole vacuum kisses
   
• cooked a Sunday roast and enjoyed great company to share it with
• tried not to miss Daddy too, too much

Which flavour of beautiful was your weekend?

Point + Shooting with Lou @ Sunny + Scout

Shar :-)

PL8S

Today. Driving. Thinking.


Pre Magoo, (and if I were a tool) my number plate read

PUNK 2L

Post Magoo, (and were I a tool) my plate reads

I M L8

What's your (tool) plate say?
Shar :-)

Grateful for ... Security

No, not the financial kind. Nor the emotional.

Home security of this form :


Was all set to crop out that well worn welcome mat.
Until I realised that I love what it symbolises.

 Welcome - as long as you're not contemplating criminal activity
(previous convictions for minor tax evasion and smoking a little something can be negotiated, I guess.)


And this form :


Jack the (excitable) wonder dog

We live in a 'lovely' area. Until we are voted off the island anyway.
In a cul de sac where we all see one another's comings and goings.
We know each other's business and pretend not to hear each other's door slamming.


We're in a security comfort zone - almost forgetting the big bad world beyond our street.
We duck across the road for a play, a chat, a cuppa and leave the door unlocked - or wide open if we're being truthful.

This week the big bad world came in and huffed and puffed.
A dodgy looking door knocker, followed twenty minutes later by the police in search of said dodgy looking door knocker had me rethinking the 'door wide open' policy we subscribe to here in Narnia.

Of course, Hubby (and his manly, protective, testosterone presence) left for greener pastures the very next day.

Granted, Magoo and I can be a scary duo - with our banshee like tantrums and overthinking, overtalking tendencies - but nonetheless I'm grateful for our locks, screen door and trusty companion.

I'd love to be grateful for this also:

Alas, it was installed four months ago, but never connected.
The technician hit a 'trouble' spot in the programming and left - to return at a time yet to be determined, obviously.
The not-so-great side to Hubby's 'mates rates' arrangements.

Playing along with Maxabella Loves - I'm Grateful For...

Shar :-)

Report Time

There is a fifth season that occurs bi annually for teachers-
it occurs mid year and again just before Summer hits.
Report season.
With it's monsoonal lows and high pressure systems - it's a beautiful, wild beast!


I'm loathe to admit that I don't loathe writing reports.
Hey- any opportunity to waffle on, express opinions and string words together is a bonus as far as I'm concerned.
The fact that the intended reporting audience virtually have to read what I write is an extra kick.


While I'm on a roll and in the mood I thought I'd write 'Mum on the Run' a little interim report on her time out here in the blogosphere.


I considered writing a report for Hubby, but reconsidered for fear of retribution.
I considered writing a report for Magoo, but being an only child, we know his social skills are seriously lacking and that his parents will be far too precious to appreciate any constructive feedback to that effect.


Mum On The Run  - Semester 1, 2011

She is a witty, popular, high achieving blogger with a vast audience...


- Oh wait - that's the report for Mrs Woog.


Here we go.

Mum On The Run  - Semester 1, 2011

Mum on the Run has settled into our community with relative ease. She's an enthusiastic contributor, although rather self obsessed and fixated upon particular themes such as marathons and toddlers.

Mum on the Run is gaining confidence in her ability to express herself, however, is easily rattled by the loss of a follower or a 'crickets' response to a post. She has a sound grasp of writing conventions but tends to overuse certain punctuation, alliteration and repetitive sentence starters.

Mum on the Run reads prolificly but sometimes at the peril of much needed sleep and even more direly needed housework. She is beinning to collaborate effectively with her peers, participating in initiatives such as Sunny + Scout's 'Point + Shoot' and Maxabella's 'Grateful for...'

Mum on the Run would benefit from researching the content she posts or even writing about phenomena that actually interests others. She is consolidating her understanding of what an audience appreciate.

Congratulations on your results this semester, Mum on the Run. You have obviously enjoyed your time amongst bloggers far superior to you. I look forward to seeing your continued progress - and inane drivel.

Shar :-)

Y'all Come Back Now

Okay, I promised on the weekend not to blog flog the word "marathon" anymore, but I did not promise to lose the phrase "while Hubby is away"  - did I ?!

So, Hubby has taken off again today.
He has spent nearly three consecutive weeks in our company, so I can see the need, really.

He's off to pamper himself on a luxuriously appointed (in a funky, minimalist kind of way) about-to-become-a mine site in our state's beautiful North. He gets to drop his jocks on the floor share a bathroom with twenty five other smelly blokes and eat in a 'mess' other than the 'mess' around here. His mobile has zero reception up there and the net is intermittent.
Some people get all the luck.

Truth is...

Now that the 'm' word is under my (glamourous hydration) belt, I'm not as phased about what his absence will do to my already light-on training regime.

Worse still...

Now that I have this Toshiba baby to cuddle, caress and chat to I'm not as phased about what his absence will do to my evenings or mental health.

Should I make an online investment or drop some serious $ at an 'adult shop' any time in the near future - he may as well stay away!!

I'm kidding, honey.
This place is not the same (feral pit) without you.
Our days do not feel quite complete without the 'Daddy's home countdown', some Daddy time and lame Dad jokes.
The dog poop does not pick itself up.
The "samily" cuddles miss your extra warmth and Skype just doesn't do you justice.
Hurry home, Hubby!

Shar :-)

Reference Collection

Anyone would think we don't trust ourselves at this parenting game.

Or I don't anyway.

(Lo and behold- those sticky notes are tabbing the paragraphs headed 'Dealing With Tantrums')

Judging by this growing genre,

someone esle must be buying into this (lucrative) crap too though!

I don't even want to think about the volume of searches I've instigated in Mummy meltdown mode, Mummy needs help now mode or Mummy wants to throw a doctor/health professional through a window mode.

So, where is the section titled -

 What Do You Think?

You Are, After All, The Parent.

Do you trust yourself?
Really trust yourself?

Shar :-)

Yay Me!!!!

Caution - shameless brag post ahead.

And copious full stops.

For. Ty. Two. Point. Two. Kil. Om. Et. Res.

(with particular emphasis on the 'kil')



Watch this space!
Fighting words - while really petrified!



I did it!

I did it!

I. Did. It!

(Ran the Perth Marathon, if you're wondering!)

So, my spoken goal was 3hrs 45mins.

My unspoken, mental goal was 3hrs 30mins.

Oh - the sheer glamour of it all!

My time was

3hrs 27mins 4?secs
(knew I'd forget to stop my watch!)
I was the ninth female to finish - which was an unexpected bonus.
Much better than steak knives.


Neeeearly there.
Must not forget to stop watch!

I'm happy.
Very, very happy.
I'm sore.
Very, very sore.

Thank you to absolutely everyone for your support.
I promise not to mention the word 'marathon'
more than once a week here from now on!
Well, I can try.
Thank you to my gorgeous Hubby and Magoo who truly are the real champs.
(How come they can walk, then?!)

Thank you to family, friends, students and other Northern Suburbs Running Group members for coming along today and for putting up with me.

Feeling the love.
And love hurts!
Shar :-)

Grateful For ... Distraction

Today I am grateful that this -



is keeping me too busy to overthink this -

Hooray for family photo shoots, birthday parties,

beautiful brand new nephews, school report writing,
chocolate crackle making and anything else
that keeps my fragile mind occupied today...

 before tomorrow's marathon.

Thank you Maxabella Loves... for Grateful For... Saturdays

Shar :-)

Is tv ok?

A long winded way to ask "is tv ok?" ...


Last week Magoo had himself an atrocious play date while I attempted to catch up with a gorgeous friend - without letting the steam emenating from my ears interfere too much with our conversation.


Hey, catching up with girlfriends - or finishing a sentence/train of thought when our children are present is a challenge at the best of times.
It's near impossible when your (one, easy!) child decides that your friend's child is not to touch ANY of his toys, puzzles, furniture, oxygen...
Painful, humiliating stuff.
I'. Must. Re. Mem. Ber. He. Is. Two.' stuff.


Anyway, my poor friend left with her beautiful, smiley, sharey boy and I was left with my #$%&^** darling. I. Must. Re. Mem. Ber. He. Is. Two.


I dared not yell my frustration out for fear of bringing in the neighbours or smack for fear of bringing in DOCS, so I silently stomped about the place until a little voice squeaked
"ABC Too Mum?"
"Mum, ABC 2 pweese?"

In the past month "ABC Toooo" has become part of my little Magoo's (hopefully 200+ word) vocabulary. I'm not sure how as I've never referred to it and it is (was, I should say) rarely on in our place.

No, no, no. I'm not a pious television hating parent who sits saint-like playing with her child every minute of every day.

Puh.

I'm just a DVD putting on parent who has no problems with The Wiggles, Bob, Play School and Thomas - so they grace our screen while I shower, clean, cook, pay bills, prep school or zone out/cuddle right there beside Magoo.

I think if you go overboard on totally banishing things that are ingrained in our society (like some idiot box, a bit of junk and copious pairs of shoes - just me with the shoes thing?) then you're likely to create a monster. A desperate tv seeking, junk food swiping, shoe envious monster.

But lately, Magoo is requesting "ABC 2 pweese" intemittently from the minute he gets up in the morning until he hits the pillow at night. I can trace this new obsession of his back to the influence of the gym creche, Nanna's place, my bout of food poisoning & lack of energy one day or plain old Daddy. I don't have a problem with it. He won't get any more screen time than he normally would - I just don't have to put those DVDs in and out, in and out, restart, open, wipe fingerprints off, retry, in and out, yep, that's a scratch, told you not to touch them, try again... you know the drill.


On the day of 'furious anger following diabolical social interaction' I slowly and calmly replied through gritted teeth that ABC 2 would not be going on at all for the rest of the day. I may have also said that ABC 2 would never be going on again if Magoo treated people like he had that morning.


So we remained televisionless for the day and it wasn't that big a deal.
For Magoo.
Who, incidentally was an absolute angel the next day -  and watched ABC 2 after breakfast and before dinner (with many hours in between the two!!) as a result.


I spent the next few days wondering how television had become my discipline tool, my 'reward' or 'incentive' I guess.
Ew. I don't think I like it.
I didn't think televsion was that important to us.
I don't want it to be.
We even have an old, small by modern standards, fat back television.
We just don't get into tvs like that.
I like to think we're active, sporty, get outside folk.
But that's a lot more fun (and practical) in Summer, isn't it now?


Lou over @ Sunny + Scout posted a little while back about getting rid of their television completely. Just the thought made me uncomfortable!
So, I guess we're more television dependent here than I thought - or like to think.


How do you feel about 'the idiot box' at your place?


Shar :-)

Worst. Parade. Ever.

*A guest post coutesy of my very own beloved Marathon Fan Club -
AKA known as Hubby & Magoo ...*

We're so excited to get out there and cheer for Mum (on the Run) at Sunday morning's marathon. So excited we wanted to make a poster, a banner, something to encourage and inspire her.

We were all set to make a blue sign - Magoo's favourite colour, when Mum read somewhere that even just seeing a flash of red can increase athletic performance - some theory relating back to caveman days when a reddening face alerted people to hotfoot it away from the man wielding the club - or something.

So, a red sign it was.
We've learnt not to argue with a woman on a marathon mission.
We wanted our words to be uplifting, relevant and helpful. 
Magoo suggested "Go fast, Mum", but Mum was pretty quick to point out that running fast was not the essence of completing a marathon.
Our alternative "Go slow, Mum" was then given a swift shake of the head for some reason.

Everyone knows, when in doubt, ask Uncle Google. So we did.
Here are a selection of quotes that we found and love, but that have been banner banned for various reasons.

• In our minds, you're a Kenyan.
• Your feet hurt because you are kicking so much butt!
• Your legs will forgive you...eventually.
• Don't stop -- people are watching.
• Worst. Parade. Ever.
• That's not sweat, it's your fat cells crying.
• If it was easy, we would do it.
• Run like you stole something.
• Surely, this is easier than labour and delivery.
• You're not slow. You're just enjoying the course.
• Stop reading this and keep running!
• Don't worry, toenails are overrated.
• It'll feel better when it stops hurting.
• Mortuary ahead....look alive!
• You're NOT almost there.
• Staying up all night making this sign was hard too!!

In the end we went with this :

and this for the reverse :

Remeber that pain is just weakness leaving the body, Mum!
Magoo & Hubby
xxx