Tag Archives: The Laundry

What are your must-sees?

The Godfather trilogy aired on free to air the other night.  Such a fabulous lot of films.  Casting, score, story – this trilogy ticks all my boxes.

I love films that unfold slowly and keep me guessing.



I like different movies for different reasons.

Although I’m 36, I’m still unable to pinpoint my favourite movie.  I can only narrow it down.



I love Taxi Driver and so does My Man.  I love the way that after 15 years of watching it, I still wonder who Travis Bickle might be.

Travis Bickle


I love Blade Runner because it makes me think about the future.



I love Strictly Ballroom. It’s bogan-ness makes me so incredibly happy.  Every time I watch it.



We can all learn from the strong sense of family in The Castle.  It’s the vibe.



I love The Breakfast Club.  Because each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal.



The Shawshank Redemption sees innocence win, even after a very hard road.  There could be no better ending to this story.



The Ten Commandments is a very special movie that always makes me marvel at Christianity.



Full Metal Jacket and Apocalypse Now make me think about the atrocity of war.  It makes me think just how strong our soldiers need to be.




Love Actually is just beautiful.  Such a beautiful story about different types of love and of course, love conquering all.



Different films take me on a different journeys.



Right now I’m loving a few series as well:


Breaking Bad tops my list, Yo!



Sex and the City is one that I re-watch when I want to laugh or cry, or laugh and cry at the same time.



I loved Winnie Cooper and Kevin Arnold in The Wonder Years.  I would love my kids to see this.

The WOnder Years


I love The Office UK because of David Brent.

the office


And I adore The Office US because of Michael Scott.

THe office US


The Sopranos makes me think about how the other half live.

THe Sopranos


I could go on…



What are your faves?  What are your must-sees?


Robo X


Linking up with Essentially Jess today.  A Dancing Essentially Jess, no less!  #IBOT

What am I doing here?


The Digital Parents Conference 2013 was, to date, the single most awesome experience of my blogging journey and anyone who considered going and didn’t, should really try to attend the next one.  Really.

It was nothing short of inspiring.





These are the awesome people I sat with most of the time:

Mummyhood101 – Jodi is the blogging buddy who took me under her wing.

Cup of Tea and a Blog – On day 2, Catherine BYO’d her tea.  She also had the blog balls to read her story.

Imogen’s Angels – If ever a passion was needed to blog…  Fiona also has a very deceptive pair of earrings which led me to believe that she was a vocal puncher of cones.

Mummy Manifesto – Lisa lost her voice at #DPCON13, but not on her blog!  She’s championing Perth.

Twitchy Corner – Sharon also had the blog balls to read her story.  Yet another brave woman.

Danya Banya – Danya brought her beautiful baby to #DPCON13.  Her lovely blog is all things craft and all things Mum.

Simple Loving Thoughts – What can I say?  You know that feeling you get when someone affirms that there are still good people in this world.

I also sat with Catherine, who is researching women bloggers. For her Ph.D. nonetheless!



The DP Conference was a big, meaty learning experience, with all the drippings.

As anticipated, I was so far out of my damn comfort zone…  But it was simply a matter of sinking from nervousness, or trying to swim.

I swam.  With floaties.



I went into the conference with a burning question.

What am I doing here?


I’m not nichey or crafty- I’m not a mummy extraordinaire.

I don’t cook for the thrill.  I’m not full of parenting advice.

I do not possess specialist expertise in anything, except getting through the day.

Nose to the grindstone, blinkers on, head down, going through the motions.




So what am I doing here, in the blogosphere?

I still don’t know.

And #DPCON13 taught me that it’s OK to not know.

And it’s OK to mix it up a little.



There aren’t really any rules to the way you wanna blog.

You just get your words out.



Robo X


Mixing it up with Essentially Jess for IBOT.  (So great to finally put faces to names!)

The Biggest Treat

The other day, my blogging buddy Mrs D, from Mrs D’s Maunderings and my Twitter/Virtual Exercise buddy Super Slimming Mumma were having a

twitter conversation about being tired.


It went like this:

Robomum:  Robomum needs her batteries recharged. Help

SuperSlimmingMama:  some deep breathing … lock the door on your own little space. or coffee … lots of coffee

Robomum:  And sleep. Averaged 4 hours every night this week. I Need SLEEP.

Then Mrs D chimed in…
MrsD:  I’ve been similar but for weeks, bought heavy duty valerian tabs in hope they knock me out properly
SuperSlimmingMumma:oh blimey! I think a day spa for u 2 is on the cards! Then a hotel to sleep in peace!
MrsD:  That would be bliss at the moment.#onecandream
Robomum:   Sorry about your week… A hotel stay would be the biggest treat ever!

A hotel!  Now you’re talking!!


A freshly made bed.  Prepared food.  Clean folded towels.  A bath, without a toy in sight.  Uninterrupted, crap cable TV.  Wine.  A spot of shopping.  A little pamper – nails, eyebrows, facial, massage – not fussy.   A cleaning fairy.  Late lunch/early dinner with an equally deserving gal pal.




Whatever category we find ourselves in;  partner, mother of any description, full time employee, whether you stay at home, or like my case, whether you do both…


Every Good Woman Deserves Her Rest and a good hotel would be the BEST.


Have you done this?  Would you like to do this?  Care to throw one my way?


Linking up today with 30 year old Jess for #IBOT


Robo X

You can follow our Twitter drivel here:

@mrsdsmaundering @robomumblog @BusySuperMumma

Inaugural DP Drinks

Aside from the Shire boys’ loud conversation about Jenko’s drunken sex session and an interruption at Town Hall station which caused a 40 minute delay, my train trip to Milsons Point for the Digital Parents Drinks was a relatively calm experience.


I needed calm.

Tackling a huge personal challenge like this required lots of calm.


I was apprehensive and generally shitting bricks about meeting other Bloggers.  And after walking from the train station to the Kirribilli Club in the heat, I had become a very sweaty bundle of nerves.


I remember saying to someone, although I don’t remember who, that I have no trouble talking in front of my students at school but in front of other adults, I am a wreck.  I’ve carried this lack of self-confidence around with me forever, so turning up at the DP Drinks, as the face of my blog, took every ounce of courage that I could summon.


I scanned the room for a familiar face and recognised Kimbalikes from her Twitter image at a faraway table.

‘Here goes nothing’, I thought and I made my feet move toward the group of people I only knew from my computer screen.


I got to the end of the table and kind of just stood there, smiling; a sweaty, smiling weirdo.

Three faces looked up at me and I think I said,

“Hi, I’m from Robomum”.


There were a few brief seconds of confusion where I’m sure they thought, WTF, but I was swiftly welcomed to the table with a collective,

“Ohhhhh hhiiiii!”


Within a few minutes, I was walking to the bar with Mumabulous, to order my first drink.  I don’t remember that conversation very well, I was still a nervous panic, so Mumabulous, if I seemed a bit bizarro, please don’t hold it against me.



I blog under my pseudonym of Robomum, still too afraid to come out of my blogging closet.


Saying my name, out loud to real people, was surreal.


For me, the DP Drinks was about coming forward and taking ownership of my thoughts and words.  It was an opportunity to discuss a shared passion, to learn from others, to share and to meet the people behind the blogs I know so well.


A little highlight of the afternoon was when Jodi from Mummyhood101 looked up my blog.

“Is this it?” she asked and showed me her screen.

After keeping my blog a secret for so long, seeing it appear on someone else’s screen was a tiny thrill – a confirmation of sorts.


So thank you to my fellow Bloggers, for welcoming the physical me so warmly into your community.

And to anyone else in my situation, who is still in the Blogging closet, do yourself a favour and attend the next Bloggy Drinks.


It was one of the most supportive and encouraging forums that I have ever experienced.


Shout outs to the people I met and apologies if I forget anyone:


Brenda from Mumabulous, Kim from Falling Face First, Becci from Birdy Num Num, Jodi from Mummyhood101, Catherine from Cup of Tea and a Blog, Grace from With Some Grace, Kylie from A Study in Contradictions and Veronica from Mixed Gems.


And a VERY BIG THANKS to Brenda Gaddi for being so legendary in the support department.


Sharing this one with IBOT over at Essentially Jess


Robo X

School Year’s Resolutions

New Year’s Resolutions…

I don’t make them.

I think I have, in the past but they are futile to me.


Instead, I make School Year’s Resolutions.



If you’ve read my blog, you’ll know that I’m a Teacher.


What this means to me is that the holidays, at home with the kids, are a complete write-off.  Nothing gets done, I’m always chasing my tail, I’m stressed, I’m tired and my little retro home becomes a little retro mess.


I take my hat off to the mums and dads who stay at home.

It’s bloody Hard WORK.



I come into my own when school starts.


I refine my processes regularly and see each new day as a fresh challenge.  Getting My Man out the door to work, getting the kids off to day care and school, dressed and hopefully fed.  Making myself look normal, fashionable even, so the teenage girls don’t pick on me in class, (seriously – a bad outfit is very distracting).  I’ve got mental checklists in my head, bags to pack, uniforms to iron and lunch boxes to assemble, all before 7.15am


School to me, means organisation and I’m one of the small percentage of people who love it.


So every year, I make School Year‘s Resolutions.


Here they are:




1.  I will be organised for the next day, from the night before.
2.  I will wake up early.
3.  I will be punctual because mornings are going to be tranquil and methodical.
4.  I will do a grocery shop once a week so I don’t have to buy my lunch.
5.  I will cook once every two day and work out some kind of healthy, easy meal plan.





6.    I will do two late days at work to catch up, prepare, mark work and do all the things I’m not able to do during the school day.
7.    I will run, as per my pact with Mummy Loves to Run and Very Busy Super Mumma, on Mondays and Fridays, or whenever possible.
8.    I will do some volunteer work in my new community.
9.    I will make and keep all personal arrangements including but not limited to, hair and beauty appointments as well as shopping dates with myself and time with my friends.
10.  I will continue to blog between one and two times a week.



Anyone who has any involvement with a school will know what a highly structured environment it can be.  There are strict deadlines, start and finish times, bells that tell you when to move, when to eat even…  If you don’t factor yourself into the day, you can become lost in it.


So that is how I roll, term after term.

I try…


Does the beginning of the school year mark a big change in your routine and mindset?

What are your tricks?


Robo X


Blogging today with #IBOT over at Essentially Jess.


The breeze has finally hit tonight and My Man has invited me to go outside with him to enjoy it.  I will, just not yet.  I feel instead, like writing about and sharing, how privileged I feel in this country, today.


Three ideas:



I posted the other day about the hardships faced by some of us.  How some people can’t afford the bare necessities in life.  It was a sad story and as I said, I hope to never encounter one like it again.

I feel privileged in this country, today because I was free to write about the incident and express how it made me feel.  I shared the story with my blogging community and it was instantly embraced.  People empathised and shared their own views and stories and I learnt that I can make a small difference, somewhere, with a few words.






Ita Buttrose is Australian of the Year – a Woman, a voice, a beacon.

I feel privileged in this country, today because a pioneer, a Woman who has achieved prominence in our society for her robust nature and innovation, has been selected.  What a role model for all Australians!  A national treasure!


Privileged again.




Another blog introduced me to an important initiative – a movement where all Women are invited to wear a hijab for a day.  It’s all about discrimination versus inclusivity, breaking down barriers.

I feel privileged in this country, today because it’s happening, without fear and with support, outreaching strangers.  It wouldn’t be possible in certain other countries.  Some Muslim Women and Girls around the world, do not have the right to use their voice, yet in our democratic country they can be heard and lead and contribute to society, as much as they please.


Privileged once more.


So before I go out to enjoy this midnight breeze, I have this one hope…

I hope you, like me, you feel absolutely beyond privileged to live in this country, today.  And everyday.


Happy Australia Day.


Robo X

Linking up with Cooker and a Looker for Australia Day


My love affair with Twitter

I first joined Twitter in 2009 and have been having a love affair with it ever since.  My Man is known to walk into the room and demand in a whiny voice, “What are you tweeting about now?”


It’s a powerful feeling to know that I am in control of my influences, sources of knowledge, who I listen to and what I read about.  I love getting my news first hand.  I love subscribing to the NY Times instead of SMH, hearing about the Middle East from Mona Eltahawy instead of News Limited and following Mr Ricky Gervais for my daily belly laugh.


By following hashtags on Twitter, I’ve lived some of the most amazing news stories from my computer screen.  Some recent tags that have stayed with me are #qldfloods, #olympics, #collarbomb, #syria, #obama2012, #japan and #neighbours, for a little weeknight satirical beat-up.


I think what I love the most about Twitter is just hearing about Stuff.  Instant and unedited, from real people who are living in the moment.

No edit, no gloss.

Spelling mistakes, finer details, truth.


The perspective of people just like me.


One of the most unforgettable hashtags was in 2011, #prayersfortony.


At home, in the final stages of pregnancy with baby number 2, I followed this hashtag intently, walking around with my phone in hand, waiting for updates about this sad, horrific story.  It was the unfortunate catalyst that sparked my interest in blogging and led me to follow some incredible (and previously unknown to me), Australian Women Writers.


Women Who Blog became an entire new realm of reality.

Mothers, grandmothers, single women, women without children; each blog tells a unique and important story.

Some of these stories stay with me for an hour, or a day.  And some of these stories continue to haunt me for much longer; occupying my thoughts as I perform the most menial daily tasks.

As my love affair continues, I thank Twitter for these incredible stories that have helped shape my life and freshen my perspective.


When has Twitter had a profound effect on you?

My Melbourne Cup Arvo

This afternoon, while the rest of you Melbourne Cupped, I quickly and quietly slipped out to see my pal, Nhung.  Our local, trusty beautician.

Nhung is like the barman who knows your name but better.  She knows your name, your partner’s name, your kids names and your sister’s husbands name.

Nhung rocks hard.


“Why you cut your nails short?” she yelled at me, as soon as I put my shocking feet into the little white bath.



“Nhung!” I pleaded convincingly, “I had an ingrown toe nail and had to cut them all because it looked funny if I just cut one!”

I know it was a poor excuse but it was the first thing that fell out of my head.

I lied to Nhung.


The real story is that I attempted a quick DIY nail job at home and got Cajun Shrimp everywhere.  Anyone who has their own Nhung would know that I mean here, Cajun Shrimp the bright orange OPI colour, not the food.

Anyway, my pedi looked like the work of my 22 month old daughter.  Not only could I not get the orange off my nails, I couldn’t get it off my cuticles or off the skin around my toes.

So I had to cut my toe nails pretty bloody short and scrub my feet during every shower for about a week.



“They so short”, Nhung kept saying, “I can’t make longer!”


Although she shook her head more times than I care to remember, and called a colleague over to discuss the matter of my short toes nails, Nhung worked her magic and now my ugly feet look like a million bucks.

They’re still hideously ugly but at least they’re a tiny bit prettier.


I hope your Melbourne Cup arvo was a bit more interesting than mine.

Robomum X

Please, no photos

I love reading blogs with photographs.  It gives me a sense of who the writer might be and it adds depth, another aspect of authenticity to their important story.  The blogs with which I am most familiar, have each shared images with readers.  Some I follow, involve the writer sharing images with each post, daily some of them.  Over time, I have read about their experiences and I have witnessed them grow and transform, become better mothers, fathers, partners.

My favourite blogs are not the highlight reels, to borrow a term from my pal, Chrissie Swan.  They don’t just share the best bits of life, A La Facebook.  The blogs I like are the warts and all, candid, scary at times, true accounts of someone’s reality.  It’s an honour to read about someone’s reality, the good bits and the not so good bits of life.

I admire the way these bloggers share their images, especially photographs of themselves and their families.  This type of writer is an intrepid writer, courageous.  To find the words to write about your life is one thing, however to include photographs is downright gutsy and an incredible gift to give to humanity.

I cannot be so intrepid.

I cannot reveal myself in the physical sense. 

I just can’t. 

I have thousands of excuses:  I’m a high school teacher.  What if my students read it?  What if my kids find out?  My Man doesn’t really like my blogging.  What if no-one reads my blog?  What if someone reads my blog?  I don’t want someone I know reading my blog!

A thousand excuses, thousands of stories…

The real truth is this:  I’m embarrassed to share the pieces of me that I’ve spent years trying to hide.  I’m incredibly proud of some things, but frightfully ashamed of others.  Some parts of life I want to relive, celebrate, wrap with a huge bow and give to the universe.  Other parts I want to hide, I act as though they didn’t happen, I ignore them, try to forget them.

If you’ve read my blog, especially the very first post, you will know that I am writing for Clarity and for Me.  Achieving clarity will involve writing about all of those truths, the good bits and the not so good bits.

The dilemma is that if I’m just sharing my stories, I don’t have to hide and I can tell you absolutely everything.  But if I tell you who I am, I may shut down and perhaps never write again, never utter another word.  What irony!

So to those who need to connect with a visual here is my response:

I’m not as hot as this:

And I’m not as bad as this:

I’m somewhere in the middle.

I’m just not that courageous yet.

So for now, please, no photos.

Robomum X

The Ex-boyfriend I can’t stop thinking about

In 2009 I was told that an Ex -boyfriend of mine was in gaol.  The person who told me this was reliable in that she was down with the word around town.  A Gossip Girl, to borrow a euphemism.

I was shocked and concerned so I questioned fast, hard.  She clearly wasn’t expecting this interrogation and because Ex had dated a mutual friend of ours, Gossip Girl reluctantly told me the specifics of the case.  Unfortunately, she had a fairly plausible story.

This Ex of mine was a good person.  He was a kind, soft soul.  A family man, who adored his only sister.  A young guy when I knew him, he kept his parents happy by staying employed and saving his money.  A good, respectful son.  An upstanding citizen for a twenty-something fella.

It was a short relationship but I liked this guy.  He was a good person who immediately, involuntarily gave his everything.  He was bright, witty, very attractive and he had great hair.  Gorgeous, long, thick hair.  He was without compromise, quite the Adonis and undoubtedly, the loveliest young man I ever had the pleasure of dating.

It goes without saying that upon my return home I Googled the hell out of his unique name and it goes without saying that of course, I found nothing.  I stayed on the case for a while, scouring the internet for a clue of what had happened. As the days turned into weeks, I resigned myself to the fact that I’d been party to back fence talk.  She had facts outrageously wrong and probably on purpose.

Fucking Gossip Girl.

Years went by without bumping into my Ex, Gossip Girl, or our mutual friend.  I had moved to Sydney and lived far from all three people, so the chances of seeing anyone were slim.  These people were from another lifetime and there would be no contact unless by coincidence.

But I did think of this Ex-boyfriend of mine often.  The kind, sensitive, caring guy that I almost loved.  The guy who wept the night our relationship ran its course.  I will always admire the way this young man displayed such raw sensitivity.  He possessed the types of qualities I hope my daughter will look for in her partner when the time comes.  Those lovely personal attributes.

The story continued to play on my mind.  When I thought of this Ex of mine, I always had the same thought process:  Did he do it?  Maybe…  From what Gossip Girl explained, he could have done so quite easily.  He may have… But no! Ex was such a nice guy! There is no way he had that in him.  No way…

More than a decade had passed since our innocent little romance.  A marriage and two babies later I found myself thinking of Ex again.  I was lying in bed, My Man was out at a concert and my baby daughter slept beside me.

I Googled his name and there in black and white, one lone article that detailed the crime.



With this revelation began a tirade of fierce, frenzied Googling.  Names, street names, work places, hangouts, friends’ names, the make and model of his car.  Everything I could remember.  Anything I could read between the lines of this one online article.  I was determined to know.

Hours passed with nothing.  Nothing until I searched the databases of the Supreme Court of NSW.

Ex  v Regina.

Guilty as all hell.

Sadly I read through the court notes.

Crime committed 2002

Sentenced 2004

Release date 2011

Desperate. Devastated.  Overwhelmed.

I was getting married back in ‘02 and he was allegedly planning a crime.  I lived the best years of my life while he was incarcerated.  I was planning to start my family while he had hit the pause button on his.  Instead of finding his one true love like I did, he found the inside of a gaol cell.

Shame.  Stigma. Dishonour.

His poor family.

People do bad things.  We stuff up.

Some of us commit crimes.

We say bad things.  Steal things.

We hurt ourselves.  Hurt others.

I respect our laws.  I know he did a terrible thing.  He committed a crime.  But when I think of Ex, I can’t help but feel concern.

I hope his experience has not completely damaged that sensitivity, that loveliness.

I hope he is healthy of mind.

I hope the trauma his family went through has subsided.

I hope that some semblance of normality has been reinstated for them all.

Sometimes good people make big mistakes.

Like the Ex-boyfriend I can’t stop thinking about.