Gluttony ensues

This festive season is disastrous for the waistline. There is no denying that the festive season excesses coupled with the post-partum baggage which has not been completely shrugged off and the winter hibernation and general love of junk food consumption and overall gluttony equals lingering muffin top which is not a pretty sight.

I am lucky in that the extra weight lingers not indefinitely but slowly dissipates...
I have good metabolism and that is one thing in my favour.

Let the flow of foie gras, smoked salmon, caviar and all that is eaten at this particular time of year come my way. Consume and be counted and die happy.

This site needs transformation

If I could be bothered or if I was more familiar with html I would add more cool features to this site but as I cannot be bothered or have not got that much time to update this blog right now, you must bear with my blog with its fad interface...

Shopping par deux mecs

When I asked Shrek to go shopping with Donkey with a precise shopping list he ended up coming back with a lot of junk and only a few items that I actually asked for.

The reason for the junk food and useless plastic toy was according to Shrek due to 'a 35 year old grown man being directed or commanded by a 4 1/2 year old toddler.'
In short one can say 'Un homme de 35 ans(papa poule) a eté dirigé par un enfant gâté ou enfant roi de 4 ans et demi.'

I think Shrek did that deliberately to punish me for having had the nerve to send him shopping. I should have known better !!!


I have noticed a general pattern of me caricaturing (that might not be a proper verb here but you get the gist) my family, Shrek in particular of late. That is partly due to the fact it eases some tension and I have not had much else on my plate of late so whining about hubby and kids is what I do best at the moment until my creativity awakens from its deep slumber... Hell will freeze over and winter be gone.

Sleep deprivation

It is no wonder that newborns are known for being nocturnal and that they do not have their night and day sorted out as yet. I suffer from sleep deprivation thanks to a certain little miracle that we have affectionately nicknamed Minimoy.

One do not sleep enough during the first three months. Welcome to motherhood.

Wii oui

Petit Suisse aka Donkey got himself three brand new Wii games : Super Mario Galaxy, Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games and Bandicoot Crash of the Titans.

I cannot tell who really is getting the most out of Donekey's Christmas gifts Shrek or Donkey. Shrek seems to enjoy himself immensely. It just goes to prove what I believed all along that men are just big babies who refuse to grow up.

I do think the sports games on the Wii Olympic Games and Wii Sports are the most interesting. They require one to exert a bit of effort and not just vegetate in front of the screen with a control.

Plumbo-Jet

Shrek is catastrophic in many ways and last night was a brilliant example of how brilliantly catastrophic he can be.

Shrek had the idea of unclogging the bathroom sink with a sniffy little gadget called 'Plumbo-Jet' acheté à la Pharmacie. He proceeded to do that at one am. I am not sure that the early hour made his eyes bleary and he misread the instructions or he mistook what he was supposed to do with the darn Plumbo-Jet altogether. We had NaOH which is the chemical representation of Sodium Hydroxide, a basic compound projected onto the walls and everything in our bathroom. I came in for a brief two seconds, breathed in NaOH and that was enough to ignite a spluttering of coughs. My eyes were irritated and I had fear of blindness... It was not pretty. Shrek spent the next hour or so cleaning up the spectacular mess left by the NaOH volatile projectiles. He had to wash the whole bathroom down and threw everything within into the laundry hamper which meant joy for me because all I need is to do more laundry.

He told me today that he realises where he went wrong and that next time he would know EXACTLY what to do, i.e. press the wretched 'Plumbo-Jet' down into the sink plug, maintain it firmly there and turning on the tap full blast til the sink slowly becomes unclogged. I do not want to test how well Shrek has managed to comprehend the instructions and carry it out without inducing another disastrous episode. I simply do not want to see Plumbo-Jet get wasted again in my household.

Papa Nöel

I have been especially good this year. As they say in French 'J'ai eté une fille bien sage toute l'année. Alors tu m'apporteras quelque chose extra de la veille de Noël Papa ventre rond ???'

To sustain the myth of Santa Claus is not so bad because the world is already filled with cynicism and the innocence of children gets stripped bare so easily. Children have plenty of time to be cynical so for the first few years it would be fine to feed them the mythical images and start them on a good note. They will discover soon after that the world is full of paradoxes and disagreements and pain and suffering. To be a child and maintain innocence despite all that this world has to throw at you is truly a magnificent feat but unfortunately reality bites you in the backside and swirls you back to the pit of unending soucis*.


*soucis mean worries in French.
**There is a suburb aptly(or not) named Sans Souci in Sydney. How I wish I could live there and be worry free. Blarggggggh wishful thinking got me again!

From politics to ABC

During my university days I was quite a prolific and active left-wing idealist. It went so far as a vocal me engaging in protest at the G8 summit held in Melbourne in 2000. I was tireless in my political activities and it pained me to see so much injustice in the world.
I held leftist convictions which have been tamed somewhat and slowly digressed more and more towards the centre of the political spectrum the older I became and the more expanded the size of my family.

I still hold leftist convictions but have realised that neither extremes of the spectrum are practiceable alternatives. One cannot have pure capitalism nor communism because humans are flawed and theories are just that good in theory but by no means can be carried out by flawed humans to reflect its original pure intent. Marxism or capitalism both have reason and to deny the other by leaning to one end of the spectrum is unreasonable.

I believe that the powerful and developed nations owe it to the underdeveloped and developing third world their wealth and thus have to aid these in attaining a more equitable and sustainable economy without installing puppet governments.

I now have progressed to the ever so enlightening phase of singing ABC and other nursery rhymes to my adorable kids. I am a mum and that is a paramount responsibility not to be taken lightly.
The regeneration is important in this ever increasingly uncertain and insecure world. One knows not how the mechanics of world politics will spin and when the heavy armor will be deployed but I prefer to weigh my priorities by what is the most immediate in my sphere and invest in the future of my kids. World politics has to come second to educational aids such as ABC song and childrens books or even more pathetic the Wiggles merchandising. I will grudgingly admit while I am at it that the Wiggles are marketing geniuses. The bastards are draining parents hip-pockets whilst making a fortune for themselves. I digress...I am beginning to have the attention span of a 5 year old

The weather

Shall I say that the weather in Geneva does nothing but dampen my mood...

Disorder reigns

I was greeted with a nasty surprise which I had expected before arriving home that it would be the case. The house was in a state of disorder that I had trouble concentrating on anything else but the mess.

That's what happens when you have a reversal of roles and papa du jour (househusband) for a few days. I cannot imagine how it will be if that was to be a saga of weeks or months...

He did however accompany me the maximum of time whilst I was in the maternity and brought sporadically a few homemade dishes (that he cooked) which we shared and I highly appreciated that.

Frustrations of a stay at home mum

I have been blessed with the arrival of a newborn. The miracle of life never ceases to amaze. He is a beautiful creature that I never tire of admiring.

Yet I am confronting a dark and sombre period. Winter is here and that in itself brings about a sombre mood.

I seethe with rage everytime a stranger ask 'So what do you do for a living?' quizzically. I struggle with my response. The simple response being that I am a stay at home mum and that has all sorts of negative connotations embedded in it.

I am educated yet I am a particularly young mum with two toddlers and a newborn in tow. This is unusual if not to say a march against the tide and trend of today. It is unheard of that women who have fought so long to gain equality in the workforce with men can now relinquish what they have battled for and regress into the age of women who are nothing more than domesticated cattle who as a matter of course stay at home occupying housework and the raising of children.

I love the luxury of being able to watch my children grow everyday and realise that not many women are as lucky as I. Another part of me long to be able to do something more productive and valued in the ordinary sense, that is use my faculties to affect change and earn my keep at the same time.

I tread on this thin line of being exhilarated and down in the deeps of a self-evaluated worthlessness.

What I dread most is being Mrs ... without any rights to be my own person or woman entitled to being evaluated as a valued employee or credited with a job well done or having a capable intellect. What _I want is to be considered more than a simple minded housewife and uninteresting stay at home mum.
I do miss having a circle of supportive network here in Geneva. I have yet to establish links with the natives that go beyond mere acquaintances or convenient friends. I have found however a few friends whom I can sympathise/empathise and discuss my frustrations with. However I do not have a pillar of strength which is paramount to staying positive during this emotionally charged and tumultous (hormonally speaking) time. My husband throughout the three pregnancies have not been a tower of strength. I felt that he either spoke for me as if I needed a spokesperson before, during and post-partum. I can say that I've had the episiotomy stitches, childbirth pain and post-partum uterus contractions à travers the three pregnancies. I think it is not intentional on his part but he is ultimately a man and cannot empathise with what is uniquely a feminine experience that is different for every woman and different still with each new pregnancy. The husband made jokes which at the moment of excruciating pain did not seem all that funny to me. Maybe my sense of humour failed to see the light in the tunnel of pain but needless to say that his way of trying to lighten the mood did not go down well with me agonising.
What I really dislike is the post-partum question: So how are you ? Was it very painful? to which my husband answers with a decisive 'Oh it went fine, a birth punctuated with nothing out of the ordinary'. I would like to be able to tell it from my perspective so people do not mistake that the birth was all dandy indeed without any hitches. The end result though overrides all that pain and perhaps I do forget that it was hell when I was experiencing childbirth pain that stretched my pelvic floor however elastic it might be.

The lack of mental stimulation I experience while interacting with the kids is refreshing for its intense freshness and disarming innocence and yet tests my own limits of patience at the same time.

I resent the routine that staying at home entails mountains of laundry, cleaning after the kids endlessly, cooking and more cleaning...

I've been greeted with the baby blues...
I think I need to uplift my mood and am afraid that no amount of chocolate or other comfort food eating will do.

What is a desperate mum to do ?
This post has rather been highly therapeutic and that somehow eases my tristesse and gives me hope that I will overcome this with perhaps the help of a more tactful hubby who after having read this post will hopefully be more supportive and more understanding.

Seasons

Winter blues
Grey hues
Harsh winds render impossible the sprouting of buds

Orientation of the yellow fireball
pivoting towards lumiere

Blossoming buds
Chlorophyll tainted foliage

A new coat of paint
Song of birds praising nature's renewal

Intensifying canicule
Blinding light that imparts difficult rest and repose
Unending scintillation stretching the length of day


Changing colours
Pretty yellow hues and crimson foliage

The circle loops
Life begins anew in the cycle of seasonal change

WII

Too much exposure to Wii in the past two days have made me slightly nauseous and hoarse from all the screaming and cheering I did to support Donkey.

Shrek has created two uncontrollable monsters having introduced the Wii console into our household.

HELP!!!

Hibernation

The cold weather has really brought about a hivernale feel aka winter is here!!! It is awfully hard to get out of bed in the morning and unless one has got to be somewhere like work or school, one would infinitely prefer to stay in bed.

Hibernation is what animals do when the chills arrive and we as humans are no different. We are animals even if we would like to think of ourselves as some sort of superior being because we have the faculties and capacity to think.

I am finding it difficult to compose, create or be motivated. I am affected by the weather darnit. I am a summer person or at the very least spring. Autumn and winter just makes me want to hibernate and wake up when spring is here once again.

Other than the long winded essay on hibernation I have not got a lot to post about.

Back to the nice warm bed with the doona 'tis.

This post was just a post for post's sake

Shrek has saved pancakes

In the long running saga that is Shrek's attempt to make pancakes, Fiona has to concede that Shrek has made good his pancakes. They are still not the traditional or conventional pancakes that one would be used to but they are not half bad.

Shrek uses levure de boulangerie sec. (dry yeast)

Shrek has celebrated this by ritually making Sundays 'Pancake day'

Shrek the marron chaud !!

I have to give it to Shrek for he makes delectable and to die for 'marrons chauds'.

Bravo Shrekkie :)

marrons chauds = roasted chestnuts

Shrek the pancake breaker !

Shrek cannot make pancakes to save himself if his life depended on it as evidenced by a second non-successful attempt effectuated two Sundays ago.
Donkey did not let this opportunity to humiliate Shrek of his shortcoming go to waste. Donkey punctuated this failed attempt with 'Shrek has made crêpes', 'Shrek has made crêpes once again' when he used ingredients that should have yielded pancakes according to a recipe which Fiona had meticulously google.
Chat botté was being neutral and did not add insult to injury. She kept quiet as she knows not to raise the ire or stir her father into a frenzy.
Donkey being a vociferous and at times caustic chatterbox that he is revels at the slightest chance of shredding Shrek's onion layers and giving Fiona fits of uncontrollable chuckle worthy of the tears caused by peeling of onion skins.

Shrek being the pig-headed ogre that he is insisted that the flour did not need to be sifted and that measurements were useless instead he added 'only god knows how much' amount of milk, flour, baking powder etc... This method strangely enough works marvelously when he makes crêpes but pancakes are a different sort of 'hot cake' altogether.

Shrek 0 Team Fiona 2

Shrek

Introducing the Shrek family.

Starring:

My hubby as Shrek
Myself as Princess Fiona
Petit Suisse as Donkey
Petite Suissesse as Chat Botté (Cat in Boots but I prefer the French synonym)

To be continued with exciting episodes.

The idea of the Shrek family came from the kids who think the personages/characters fit us like gloves or almost...

I wanted to share this amusing image with you all.
The sperm bank surely needs lots more donors so... Come and be thanked

IKEA

You know you are a regular at IKEA when all the employees in the daycare at their store recognise your son and know him on a first name basis without you having opened your mouth to ask which child you are fetching.

pancakes vs crêpes

The culinary war between American food (which I for the most part admittedly dislike) and French cuisine is ON.

Could somebody kindly explain to my poor husband what the difference between a crêpe and a pancake is?

My husband's as pig-headed as a mule so he will not admit to his faux pas... n'est ce pas?

Please follow the link and RATE my poem

http://www.poetry.com/voteforme/poemvote1.asp?PID=0

A few shags a week

I cannot help but bring you these informative discoveries that are supposed to send you to seventh heaven.

The experts have prescribed that 2-3 shags a week will rejuvenate you and help your immune system keep the nasties at bay. Too many shags though will have the inverse effect.

So to keep yourself looking as youthful and stay healthy for as long as you possibly can shag away but like all things excess will lead you astray...

Keep a calendar and shag in moderation. Your bodies will thank you.

Swiss customs endorse veganism

A close inspection of the amendment to the Swiss customs regulation regarding food originating from animals will leave you with a 'what the heck?!?' reaction. I think Swiss customs regulations now resembles that of a vegan's diet as they prohibit everything that stems from animals including all dairy products, eggs or honey or dried fish...
It must be said though that the prohibition applies only to meat and all animal products that originate from outside of the European Union.

Importers are still allowed to import these prohibited products from countries that are not members of the European Union. It's a hypocrisy because importers have to pay tax on these products and thus are allowed the luxury of charging inexorbitant prices for the sought after delicacies from across the world. On the other hand the average traveller coming back from Asia cannot bring a few kilograms of dried beef into Switzerland thanks to this new law.

The veganistic tendencies of the new legislation leaves me wondering if I am a fish out of water here in Switzerland?

Prostitution is going to be a university course

Within the framework of reform a New Zealand university director of higher education has announced that a course on how to prostitute 'comme il faut' will probably be included as a new discipline reported by 'The New Zealand Herald'. A colleague added that these courses will have to be planned according to the same rigour and criteria as other courses and assuring a minimum standard. The government has yet to see an interest expressed by prospective students, investors, enterprises or tax payers.

What skills do one obtain after such a course? Will the certificate of a degree in prostitution render one a bona-fide hooker or gigolo???

Ode to IKEA (for my husband)

I adore thou o fearless one
Knowing full well thou art
Every handyman's fantasy
All consuming passion


IKEA is on the verge of total world domination with an all conquering concept.

IKEA is to furniture cum DIY cum useless decorations cum occasionally relevant or useful amenagements what McDonalds is to fast-food (or in some instances Food)

Beware an IKEA franchise is

Coming to a location near you.

Things to do when you are pregnant

Here are my favourite things to do without feeling the slightest tinge of guilt during my pregnancies: (in no particular order)

_ Eat to my heart's content.
_ Wolf down a block of dark chocolate (any other type will do when I have a craving) or thereabouts everyday. (Actually that is a slight exaggeration)
_ Have really shitty, hormonally induced temper tantrums and blame it on the increased raging hormones that has somehow engulfed me.
_ Tell my husband that being preggers is wrecking havoc with my normally unperturbed mood thus for him to not be perturbed by my extreme moodswings.
_ Feel absolutely fabulous that my bulging belly is perfectly acceptable and moreover celebrated. I am preggers after all duh !(I might be kidding myself here because I rarely felt this)
_ My normally contradictory self is even more pronounced with an emphasis on contradictory and/or paradoxical. I love being a paradox, that says it all.
_ Have irrational cravings
_ Give my husband a hard time for not being understanding or comprehensive enough about the whole ordeal of being hormonally charged and dealing with a burgeoning belly that is carrying no less than a human life.
_ Cry for no particular reason at all.
_ Having eternal fatigue and able to profit from that. (Although this was only possible during my first pregnancy because I had no other little being to take care of)
_ Taking full advantage of my state of being enceinte by asking people (mainly my hubby) to do things for me. I wish this was true but I have too much pride to ask for assistance unless it's necessary.
_ Taking it easy and putting my feet up. Unfortunately another wistful pensée because I have two toddlers who are turbulent to look after.

I think pregnant women are entitled to any perks they can convoke because frankly all the side effects and symptoms are not all that easy to bear. Morning sickness, nausea, inexplicable itchiness, insomnia, depression,feelings of inadequacy brought on by sudden change in shape/size of their bellies, thighs etc...

So pregnancy is the easy prelude compared to what it takes to raise a child in this oft frightening world. Try it only if you are game.

When night falls

Light illuminates the morning sky
A life began
The iridescent glow irradiates warmth
Vibrant peak glimmers for all to admire
One weeps from overflowing joy
A life is born into the world
The peak of noon soon takes over
Incandescence begins to diminish
Curbed by the distant call
Dimmer and dimmer the sky becomes
mirroring the decline in an almost lifeless body
Ravaged by age and disease
Robbed by the hands of time
Gradual disappearance

Sounds of Silence falls on deaf ears
Darkness.

Amused

My husband's idea of a fun day out is to go and spend hours perusing through his latest preoccupation at the eletronics megastore MediaMarkt. Typical of a male init?

I would much rather go shoe shopping or bargain hunting. Does that just make me a
shoe-a-holic or bargain hunter or a shallow femme?

Mr Freeze

On our recent road trip to Sète in the South of France to celebrate our fifth marriage anniversary I discovered the power of advertisements!
We were walking along the shores of Balaruc Les Bains and saw an ice-cream parlor. They claimed to have 'glaçes artisanales', which means home made. My husband joked that the only thing that was authentic about the ice cream was the fact the industrially made blocks had to be loaded into the display window by human hands.

Petit Suisse insisted on having a raspberry flavoured ice block. I did not know the real reason as to why he was so insistent on having an ice block when there was an array of attractive ice cream flavours on display.

At dinner time we sat in a restaurant having a gigantic seafood platter entourée by oysters, prawns, crayfishes and numerous other molluscs. Petit Suisse started to sing a jingle which all of a sudden sounded familiar.
It went something like 'Mr Freeze, Mr Freeze...' He sang it in a perfectly melodious tune which unfortunately cannot be reproduced on a two dimensional computer screen.
I glanced at the packaging of the now finished ice block and found 'Mr Freeze' written on it. I subsequently asked Petit Suisse how he came to know about Mr Freeze and he nonchalently answered "I saw it on Tele".

Hubby and I looked at each other and with a telling look, Television adverts do sway impressionable kids and that is the goal of marketing and advertising. Target scored! Need I say more.
The next day while we were in the supermarket he adamently demanded we buy the 'Monster' shaped biscuits fabricated by Lorenz which coindidentally he saw on Television.

I have to be careful not to let too many adverts sway my kids into the latest trend, food, snack, toy, gadget and what not.
Damn advertisements!!! I must admit they are effective for the most impressionable audience though and my kids are in no way immune to the floods of ads...

Picture purrrfect

I have a theory that there is a conspiracy against me that condemns me to have the majority of photographs taken by various people to look atrocious. I either have my mouth full or a sheepish grin. People without forewarning just happen to descend upon my having put a mouthful of alimentation and without allowing me a few seconds to swallow snap, flash and capture my mouthful on camera. The sheepish grin I cannot really explain away but it is also a frequent event.

My husband thinks it is my vanity that speaks when I complain about having less than flattering images captured but he has no room for speech as I can hardly remember him having a photo where he has his mouthful.

Life in motion

The overwhelming pace of modern day Ho Chi Minh city is juxtaposed next to the deafening calmness of Geneva. I am attempting to find a balance between the silence and stillness and the hectic and boisterousness which is by no means an easy feat.

Poetry

Poetic Justice
Ode to joy
Ever so fleeting
Thoroughly engrossing
Realm of insatiable greed
Yearning

guilty pleasure

I partake in the shameful audience of a trashy TV serie 'L'ile de la tentation' or 'Temptation island'. I coerce my husband into watching it with me through persuasive blackmail...

I can afford myself some piece of trash because strangely enough it makes me feel detendue. The bonus lies in the sadistic pleasure of watching my husband writhe and worm in his seat due to his total lack of interest in this serious garbage. :)

trivia

A little piece of tidbit about how ungainly or awkward I really am. I once used an eyeliner pencil to outline my eyebrow. After I had drawn the line I was horrified to note that the line was a ghastly dark green. It took me all of 15 minutes or so of scrubbing and excessive amounts of makeup remover before the line began to fade.

Needless to say I have learned from this faux pas.

I am nothing if not une championne de faux pas and proud of it!

When life happens, the blog lags behind

I have been occupied with kiddy things lately and all the mundane daily chores. I feel like I have lost a bit of myself in all the daily connundrums.

To more positive thinking I have resolved to be happy in the here and now. To be grateful for the things I have and not crave and pine for all the things I do not.

As Oscar Wilde once said "The biggest tragedy is not having what you want, but the bigger tragedy is getting what you want."

We as humans are insatiable and thus will forever beat ourselves over opportunities lost or the idiomic optical illusion of the grass is always greener on the other side.

When we finally get the very thing we have been pining for or realise a dream, we are dissapointed because getting to that dream has made us realise that we no longer want that elusive chimera. We will chase whatever we do not have within our grasp, once within our grasp we will chase it away with a nouveau chimera...

Live in the moment. I resolve to eat well, drink well, sleep well and f*ck well. That should put to rest the other negligible and unimportant details.

Of bricolages et coloriages

At the risk of sounding self-centred and obnoxious I have more than once felt a tinge of regret that being a stay at home mum,which is euphemism for housewife has meant that I have passed many an opportunity to be working. Staying home with kids equals spending days finding different bricolages to keep them occupied when the weather is miserable. I envy women who bosser (French slang for work) in a professional environment. I want to be surrounded by colleagues who find my ideas and opinions intelligible. I would love to have adult conversations with qualified professionals whose decision making would impact outcomes and have ramifications for firms. I want my quick thinking, analytical skills valued. I want to have deadlines, meetings, conferences and in short be an independent lawyer. I want to feel important. As much as I would not like to admit being a femme au foyer has the interesting factor and important factor of zilch. That is the impression I get from the general public, what good are stay at home mothers? They really only matter to their kids and hubby and elevating the future contributors to the workforce.

Instead I have to console myself with tuning my brain to the wavelengths of a four year old master manipulator and champion blackmailer and a two year old stubborn recalcitrant. I suspect that the adolescent years waiting ahead will have me writhing with disdain at growing pains, rebellion and what did I expect when I was rebellious myself and gave my mum anguish and heartache? Definitely something to look forward to. Oh joy!

I have a slight resentment towards being a housewife.
I have to stop languishing in this bullcrap and move onto something more positive, like exploiting my current status. Brain think tick tock think...

What benefits if any arise from marriage to a pharmacist?

...

I am deliberately leaving it blank so you the readers can fill in with your own humorous inputs.

I expect a certain stealth creature to post comments here. :)

Guilty

I feel especially guilty for letting the television and DVD player babysit my children.
I feel like all the different multimedia control our lives to a certain extent. I know if I put more effort into fulfilling creative or educational activities with my kids and let them watch less TV we would all be the better for it. It is hard to say no to such effortless and pure lazy indulgence.

I am tempted to live completely free of television. I would not be missing out on much because in fact the children and the husband reign over what we watch on TV : children during the day and my hubby at night after work. He understandably relaxes as he catches up on his favourite shows after a long laborous day.
After we have spent the day at playgroups or running errands together or playing in a park, the first thing Petit Suisse reaches for when we get home is the remote control. He works it like a pro.
The hubby is really into Doctor House MD currently. Before that it was Lost (the first season), then NCIS, Prison Break. I have very little or no say in what program the TV is switched to. Thus I think it only fit that I declare my household a TV free zone. I am uncertain as to who will be the hardest to convince the toddlers or the big kid.

I started off feeling guilty about the effect television has on those surrounding me but heck to borrow a phrase from Marie Antoinette who said 'Let them eat cake', I will end with 'Let them watch television'.

Fatiguée

I am so often damn tired these days...
Daily life exhausts me. Lack of excitement and routine bores me.
As much as the next person we all have similar daily struggles and our world has been reduced to consumerism and uninspired daily musings of which my blog now appartient.

It is a decline I am afraid.
The decline of old traditions and limits and the age of convenience and newfound liberty/freedom of expression.

Why do I have this nagging feeling that we have not progressed all that much on the front of freedom of expression???

Matterhorn

The majestic Matterhorn atop Zermatt, one of the many famous Swiss Alpes. Switzerland lacks many things such as open-mindedness, multiculturalism, political liberalism but it more than makes up for all of its shortcomings with naturally magnificent landscapes.

Petit Suisse

Constant naggings of the following sort are worse than tantrum-throwing or hissy fits.

Petit Suisse to me : You do not give me ... You do not give me ... You do not love me at all. You do not love me at all.

etc...

Alternate between the above two sentences and fill in the blanks with whatever he is desiring on the spur of the moment. Elongate the length of this constant nagging by an half hour and I am at my wits end. The worst thing is I do not want to cave in and give him whatever it is he wants which consists mostly of impossible,unreasonable or tooth-decaying foodstuff. What is an exasperated mother to do?

Readiness

Who knew that my husband's definition of being ready involves wait for it, having shoes on?

This means one thing I could be nude and be ready if my feet were shoed.
He is seriously worried that if we were to have an earthquake or any natural disaster or unnatural emergency and I was shoeless this would be a catastrophe.
As one knows to be found without ones shoes on the street when one is sans-abri is unforgiveable due to possible debris, broken objects and what not...

So he habitually tells me (much to my annoyance) that I am not ready unless I've got my shoes ON.

You begin to see where all our problems stem from, don't you?

Petite Suissesse

The reason I have blogged less about my petite suissesse is simple. She is a pigheaded, ultra-determined and tough little 2 year old who other than repeating endlessly after her older brother is just a normal kid. This does in no way mean she is not extra special or unique in her own sweet way. It just means that for the moment her daily encumbrances are less noteworthy.

Random conversations with Petit Suisse

My four year old son shall be referred to as 'Petit Suisse' and my 2+ year old daughter shall be known as 'Petite Suissesse'.

Petit Suisse to self : This morning I was a wee little baby and I suckled on your breasts for milk.

Self thinking must be some growth-hormone induced milk because you have miraculously grown in a matter of a few hours to a four year old.

Petit Suisse's sense/notion of past is reduced to 'this morning or a moment ago'.

Struggling to find an audience

My fears of not striking a chord with any soul out there who desires to express and share their views that do not already seem formulaic and conform to the myriad blogs that already exist. Maybe I came into this game a little late. I will persist no matter and if it means simply to be a platform to express my views then so be it.

To hell with attempting to appeal to the masses.

I now sound desperate for attention.
;)

Butterfly

Fleeting beauty
Oh how I envy thee!
Fluttering, flippant, coloured wings

Ephemeral beauty
Oh to live a short-lived wingspan
'Tis more than a lifetime of inutility

Epitome of fragility
Oh such pitiful fate of all existence
'Tis more than mere inexistence

---

Butterfly how thou hath conjured up
My own short-lived existentialism
Like the many before I

To have lived is far better
... than to have simply existed

Bored

I would welcome suggestions on what to do when one is bored in the pretend metropole but in reality a village 'Geneva'.

I do not expect a constant flow of ideas because it really is deadly boring here.

What to feed one of the world's most finicky eaters?

The following is an exhaustive list of what my finicky eater of a son will eat. Anything that does not appear in the list will not be eaten.
In no particular order
1. Carrots
2. Peas
3. Chocolate (for breakfast, lunch and dinner and snacks if only he could)
4. Pasta without any sauce
5. Rice when accompanied by char siu or lap suong
6. Fried rice
7. Yoghurt
8. Fruits the sweeter the better/more likely to be eaten
9. Corn kernels (he will eat cans upon cans of this)
10. Vietnamese beef noodle soup

The pattern is that he associates good taste with high sugar content. If it tastes sweet then it tastes good according to this gourmand. Needless to say he does not have a very big appetite.

For a petit Swiss who does not appreciate one single bite of cheese of any kind is a shame really. He doesn't take to milk fat too well so rule out butter or dairy products other than yoghurt and milk which unusually he drinks (especially when flavoured with chocolate powder).

Oral sex more cancerous than ciggies ?

Giving multiple head/blow jobs or more scientifically correct fellatios or cunnilingus to different partners will increase your risk of throat cancer. This risk is calculated to be more substantial than smoking or consuming alcohol. A study by the University of Baltimore revealed that practising oral sex with more than five partners raises the risk of developping throat cancer five times. Rest assured that the majority who contract oral infection arising out of oral sex will probably not develop throat cancer. Reassuring init?


The experts advise that if you want to continue giving and receiving head/blow jobs without feeling guilty or anxious about your elevated risk factor then wear a condom.

Sorry if I have offended anyone with this particularly blunt post.

I was momentarily tempted to put a visual exhibition to illustrate my point but thought better of it.

To sell or not to sell : my soul that is

I have hesitated or procrastinated for a good few years before finally kickstarting my first blog. The main reason being I wasn't too sure if selling out my soul to the web community is what I really wanted.

I stumbled upon the world of blogs accidentally one day while I was googling a recipe of some sort. Yes typical of a temporary housewife (I hate this word with a vengeance) to be searching for what else but new recipes to try out. Since then I have periodically scanned different blogs, some food blogs, some that I think are humorous and some just ridiculous.

The majority of the blogs are self-confessional. It is an attention grabbing tool but can at the same time mask the identity and maintain anonimity of the author if he or she so chooses. Everywhere I turn there is a new blog whose owner is in talks for a book contract. It seems that these days literary genius or the mastery of language are no longer prerequisites for would be authors. Publishing companies are undermining literary values to sign book contracts with anyone who has a juicy story to tell. It matters not whether the story revolves around mundane subjects or extraordinary matters so long as it will sell books.

Money and Fame,it seems are what we all ultimately seek. I would be the first to admit that I would not turn down monetary offers of any kind if they indeed come my way.

So here on my little niche on the web I sell my soul to the highest bidder. Let the bidding begin.

Blackmail

How young does someone need to be in order to perfect the art of blackmail. It is truly an artform.
Any guesses yet?

Will give you the answer when I've got some guesses coming my way...


The simple answer is a toddler from approximately 2 years onwards.

A housewife's salary estimated to be worth 168 000 Swiss Francs

How I beamed with glee when my husband gave me an article published in the newspaper about actual monetary estimates of a housewife's worth: a hypothetical salary of 168 000 Swiss Francs per year. To any woman who thinks that all her unpaid, under-appreciated workload that seems to never end 'This article gives you vindication!' The study by the American institute Salary.com based its findings on 40 000 females. Ten different careers are associated with a housewife of which two are my standout favourites : that of CEO and psychologist.

According to this study I am earning more than my husband. Somehow it is a bit of a denouement because at the end of the day I still feel exhausted, overworked and most important of all unpaid. So much for my hypothetical salary of 168 000 Francs.

Children

Passion...Desire

Simple lust!

A woman's womb encircles
A mother's womb cradles
The little seed of love
Confounded by simple lust

A nouveau soul meeting the world
Bound by conventions

Flightless wings
Ruptured
Broken
Bleak


Darkness.