Aside from prescription medications, a home and a large cask of fruity leg-opener, here is your essential guide to the seven must-own style items for single mothers:
- A leopard cougar dress adds class to any event, including school canteen duties or my kid doesn’t deserve another detention meetings in the principal’s office
- A large slobbering pit bull wearing a choke collar is mandatory for surviving early weekend morning netball games courtside with only happily married power couples for company
- A timeless, barely-there I can’t pay the rent ripped t-shirt emblazoned with I am the patron saint of deadbeat males goes with just about anything and is perfect for last minute call ups to the school father’s day breakfast
- Flannie shirt and work boots, for that crucial menswear-inspired look to confuse the hell out of the parents who can’t guess which side of the sexual fence you’re sitting on at the school fete
- Add polish to your 3pm pick up look by combining a no-brainer plunging neckline with the quintessential single mother chunky snakeskin stiletto
- Sneakers found on the street outside charity shops lengthen your pay packet and mean you can run from your children when they embarrass you at the shops
- A basic toy boy dressed in suede or leather is the ultimate go-to handbag for school parent-teacher meetings, he will add instant sophistication
Today I’m thankful that I still have a mother, but if we’re going to have a day to celebrate mothers, please don’t ask me to:
Bake a cake for a fundraiser
Select a nanna scarf for me before I’m a grandmother
Volunteer for any initiative to improve the lives of already well-off people
Mend garments or
Clean up after babies
Also please don’t:
Buy me ugly socks
Make me a ceramic thingy that I’ll smash
Give me any more craft
Advise me to take vitamins, colonics, miracle cures or go for a run
Rescue another animal for me
Suggest helpful ways to brighten my floors
Today I don’t want to grow, inspire, achieve, strive or nurture, I’m cranky and I’m having a day off. Please quickly bring me a bottle of gin, tonic, lemons and an obedient bar man, then close the door on your way out. Your best present for Mumma is obedience and a big dose of shush.
Power up ladies. This is a life-changing opportunity that few will have the mastery to grasp. Tony Robbins, yes, the over-charging self-appointed self-help guru urgently requires an authentic life coach slash disruptor to transform his mind. Preferably a strong female who can resist bullies. The successful applicant will have years of work ahead of her, bashing through the scripted bullshit.
Here’s an incredibly detailed summary of the top coaching modules Tony really needs. Any takers?
Lesson 1: Deep listening, and more listening and hopefully his new coach will throw in some listening skills as a bonus
Lesson 2: Finding friends who aren’t jerks
Lesson 3: Mansplaining 101
Lesson 4: How not to physically intimidate women
Lesson 5: Male entitlement
Lesson 6: Practising what you preach
Lesson 7: Why obsessing over your appearance gets in the way of your sincerity
Hopefully, Tony is a keen learner and will realise this is his date with destiny, that he can create massive humility in his life. Tony’s success coach may be able to help Tony condition his mind in how not to be a complete knob. My thoughts and prayers are with Tony as he embarks on his quest for self-improvement; if all goes well, his new lifestyle guru will keep him busy for a long time.
As I prepare to be disappointed by New Year’s Eve celebrations and charge my teen’s phone so I can nag her home at some ungodly hour, I say good riddance to 2017. What a bastard of a year.
There were many lowlights of the numpty kind:
Nivea white purity ad campaign
Orange moron in the White House
Potato Dutton spending billions on locking asylum seekers up on Manus & Nauru
Text messages auto-correcting to duck
Abetz, Bernardi, Blot, Abbott, Kenny, Not Devine, Credlin
Ads featuring Kendall Jenner
Chicken flavoured prosecco
Fine artists Mary Tyler Moore, Sam Shepard, Malcolm Young, David Cassidy, Chuck Berry, John Hurt and Tom Petty left our world
More white male shooters became killers in the US
Too many beautiful souls died of brain cancer
But there were also many heroes of 2017:
Larissa Waters breast fed her baby in parliament
Victorians elected the first-ever female indigenous MP, Lidia Thorpe
Kon from the ASRC
Mums 4 Refugees
A people-powered movement stopped Adani’s $1Billion loan
Same Sex marriage finally became law
War on Waste campaign
Women’s Marches across the world
The Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse ended; brave souls who’ve endured so much can hopefully begin to heal and churches will be forced to offer compensation
Lee Lin Chin
I graduated from primary school after 15 years
Weinstein and other predators were named and shamed
Political leaders of the resistance
2018 is the year of the Earth Dog. According to Chinese astrologers, dogs sniff out the truth, corruption is exposed and the underdog is championed. Happy joyous New Year, may the dogs of 2018 pee on the legs of mansplainers, bring us a break from the political insanity, and bless us with more women in power, especially needed by those of us with a vagina.
On Tuesday Australia celebrates the festival of the spray tan, also known as Melbourne Cup Day. The entire country will be on a high over-bronzed alert as women walk around looking like they have been spattered with wooden deck stain from Bunnings. Our foreign minister has travelled far to be there, but cannot intervene when it comes to refugees suffering on Manus Island.
I won’t be baring my pale body on Tuesday, I’m not up for the scrutiny. As I watch my face age every morning in the mirror, I’ve been thinking about how my fellow middle-aged women are coping with wrinkles. And how they are so distracted by their ‘beauty’ regime that they don’t have time to call out human rights abusers.
Recently, I stumbled upon the Instagram page of a mother I used to know. Her face was stuck in a wind tunnel and her lips resembled a boxer who had been punched in the mouth, but she still looked like a female in her late 40s. They weren’t Halloween pictures. She reminded me of Nicole Kidman, the selfies showed me a featureless face, every emotion and expression the same. And I thought about a generation of little girls growing up with mothers whose faces cannot express empathy nor frown, and who all have trout pouts. They are being taught that this is the acceptable female beauty standard. Like foot binding and removing ribs in generations past. Mothers who spend more time and money in salons than on teaching their daughters to change the world. What do these girls think of the disconnect between their mothers’ words and the emotion their faces can’t convey? Do they worry when they see kids locked up in refugee camps and their mothers are too busy inhaling nail polish in salons that employ uneducated women from poor countries to care? Why do females show their sons and daughters that a wrinkle free face that doesn’t move is how women must age? Why are our looks are more important than the plight of our fellow humans?
And more and more women in their 20s have immovable faces and puffer fish lips. On my vast single mother budget I have lots of money for day spas, so occasionally I get my nails done or a facial at a student beauty clinic. Last week a woman doing my nails must have been in her early 20s but I couldn’t really tell. She could have been shocked by my visible wrinkles, as her face only showed that she was startled.
Am I jealous because I can’t afford to do this?
When I told my 15 year old that I was writing this she said,
“Mum, don’t be mean about this woman, even if she does have a frozen fish face. She already feels bad about herself, that’s why she’s done that to her body.”
Pollard’s perfect single mother Sunday:
Gently woken from a sleep in by difficult middle child quietly whispering,
“I’ve cleaned my room and made breakfast.”
Fresh juice on the bedside table
Someone has changed the kitty litter
Breakfast in bed
Cancer is cured, affordable health care for all is announced
Tony Abbott has been silenced
I frolic in the park with a gorgeous man, cavort with my cocker spaniel and happily play frisbee with jolly well-dressed children, after 11.30am. Kids have silently scrubbed the bathroom and I haven’t had to get out of bed to stop them fighting
Long lunch at a restaurant with loved ones
Donald Trump is impeached; he, Putin, Dutton and Kim Jong Ugh have been shipped off to a labour camp in Siberia
Afternoon nap uninterrupted by school run
Ping pong tournament with silly people ends in giggles and singalong
Dinner of nibblies and wine provided by an anonymous benefactor, while having a great chat with dear friends = perfection
Turn on news: we have a fantastic indigenous female Prime Minister. She outlaws homelessness and makes companies who profit from food and housing illegal.
After a long, lavender-scented bath, I go to sleep in a freshly made bed
I wake up on Monday morning and youngest child says,
“I’ve made my lunch and I’m getting myself to school mum, love you, I’ll make dinner tonight, bye.”
Lou Pollard you’re dreamin’