Oh George

In 1986 I was living in London and I had a flatmate who modelled her hair on George Michael’s fluffy bouffy do. She scored tickets to see Wham at Wembley Stadium that summer. I didn’t speak to her for a while because she went to the gig and I didn’t. It was never about Andrew, it was always about George. I loved George but I was too afraid to admit it. For a while there it wasn’t cool to like George Michael’s music, it wasn’t grungey or dark or rock enough. I’ve never liked cool obscure underground bands that nobody has heard of, with male singers who can’t hold a tune, I’m a huge fan of bright, shiny commercial pop. So George was the shiz.

 

I love George’s lyrics, I love his melodies and his voice. When I was 14, he wrote songs in the key of teenage angst. George understood me and my worries. Christmas doesn’t begin for me until I hear Last Christmas on the radio.

 

I can’t believe he’s gone at the age of 53. In the 90s his music kept my heart alive. I hope the dope didn’t kill him.

 

“Do you enjoy what you do? If not, just stop, don’t stay there and rot.”

 

Thank you George, I hope you’re blazing a trail with some gorgeous angelic backing vocalists in heaven

 

 

 

 


Dear Santa

G’day. Here’s my last minute Christmas list for you. I’ve been very busy this year, so as I haven’t really had time to be naughty I think I’m in with a chance of getting a few of these items. So this Christmas I wish  you could:

 

  1. Please send really sick kids home from children’s hospitals with good health
  2. Please give their parents a restful break
  3. Please find homes for homeless people, especially those battling snow and bitter winds
  4. Please change the gun laws in the US
  5. Please outlaw the over-supply of greedy real estate agents who profit from people’s basic need for housing
  6. Please give the tectonic plates a rest for a while
  7. Please kick out politicians who put their own personal profits ahead of the health, harmony, safety and education of the nation they pretend to be serving
  8. Please send French champagne and chocolates to my loved ones while I have a lie down
  9. Please keep an eye on my eldest as she adventures through the wilds of South America
  10. Please tell whoever is in charge of choosing who dies (I don’t know where they are, maybe in the office next to yours at the North Pole?) not to take any more of our fabulous artists. Can this entity please choose despots, thugs and so-called success coaches in 2017 instead?

 

I’m trying not to be greedy but some peace, love, joy, giggles, goodwill, gratitude, patience, kisses, health, harmony, dark chocolate, extra light for Channukah, belly laughter, hugs, respect and no new Mariah Carey singles for a while would be ace too

 

Thanks mate, I’ve got beer waiting for you as long as your reindeer poo out the back of my garden

 

 

 

 

 


Daddy

On Friday I posted a picture on Facebook of me wearing a T-shirt saying ‘Single Mothers Rock’ with my daughter at her school Father’s Day morning tea, with the caption:
What do you wear to the school Father’s Day breakfast when the father does a no-show? My favourite T-shirt #subtle #singlemothersrock

I hadn’t woken up that morning thinking I’d make a statement with my outfit, but when 350 people liked the photo it made me think about how we bring up my kids in 2016. Lucky I didn’t wear this T-shirt

My girl was in tears when her father wasn’t there like her friends’ dads; really how hard is it to schedule your work diary and show up to primary school for an hour for Father’s Day? And that is the easy part of parenting. Not going to the mother or father’s day breakfast at school is a missed opportunity for extra helpings of love from your kid. It is sad for her, but very predictable for me, plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. I’m disappointed for her because I had a very committed dad, so I know what it feels like to be showered with love from your papa.

There were other single mums there, even a few grandparents, luckily our school puts the invitation out to anyone who is a special person in each child’s life. It’s hard for the kids who don’t have two parents. Then I heard about a woman banned from attending Father’s Day celebrations at her son’s school because she was the wrong gender. The father of the child lives overseas. Why can’t they include that mum as a VIP guest? In the 21st century maybe it’s time to get rid of the gender specific events at schools.

Today I’m going to the footy with a devoted dad to celebrate his special day because I think it’s important to say thank you and well done to our loved ones. So Happy, Happy Father’s Day to all the beautiful dads, including those like my wonderful papa Jack Pollard who are fathering from the skies. I know he’s watching over my beautiful girls and I was blessed to have a dad like him.


Poke ’em & go

Dear 11-year-old child,

I know you’re really busy saving the world by watching people playing Minecraft on Youtube all day, but I’d like to ask a favour. Could you please catch and keep the following Pokemon people/creature/alien/thingies/whateverthehelltheyare?

Cleandyourbedroom a saurus

Oddishwasher won’t empty itself

Clefairy liquid over the sink and wash the dishes

Remove the Vileplume from your sister’s walk on floor-drobe

Meowth and change the kitty litter while you’re at it

Machop up some veggies for dinner

Rapidash to the bathroom to hang up your sisters’ wet towels

Slowpoke the dunny brush around the toilet

Weedle your way out of whinging about housework no more

Thank you great light of my life

Mother dearest

Whistle While You Work – Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs


Sonia’s life hacks

Hi, I’m Sonia, and as well as being a famous ex-dancer, TV wonder girl, motivational guru and gifted Botox devotee, I like to inspire and uplift my fellow mainly white Australians with the love I feel for other fearful Christian human beings. Today I hope we can all:

Dance like Sam Newman is watching

Pop pills like we’re Eddie Maguire

Work like Tony Abbott’s publicist

Love like Michelle Bridges looking in the mirror

Genuflect like Roxy Jacenko

Sing like the Madden brothers mentoring themselves in the shower

Live like we’re in Queensland in 1952

Ponder the deep meaning of our existance like Donald Trump’s wife

Drink like we’re Ben Cousins

Smile like we’ve had dermal fillers

For now you beautiful pale Aussies, Keep Calm and Dance like Sonia


We’ve got to find a way

My heart weeps for the children of Syria, Orlando, Baghdad and Nice, I feel powerless to change the hatred and fear gripping parts of our world. What the hell can we do?


I miss my dad

This week marks 14 years since I lost my dad (down the back of the couch, it was a big lounge suite). My dad was hard-working, larger-than-life, full of energy and a bit of a nut with a great sense of humour. I miss him every day.

I’m now at the age where too regularly my friends are losing their dads. Great dads who worked hard and weren’t around that much when we were young because they had to feed us and pay the bills and blokes of that generation were taught to get on with it and not complain. Lovely men who then became gorgeous grandpas who made up for the time they’d missed with their kids by sharing their attention and dad jokes with our kids. Now they’re old and frail and leaving us. As a single mum I could really do with my dad around some days, but life goes on with him in our hearts.
Farewell grand dads and grandpas. We miss you so.