Thank you goddess Doria

After 10 years of single mothering with a few token attempts at financial assistance from the casual father, I’ve been feeling really tired and uninspired. Then a magnificent photo of Doria Ragland sitting on her own in a church pew, glowing with adoration for her daughter, appeared online. This image gave me the strength to keep going. I can’t recall seeing the essence of gold standard fierce single mothering captured in a photo before. Love is a verb, and Doria you have obviously been a woman of action.

I love you Doria even though I don’t know you. Lovely lady, no matter what happens you have given so many of us permission to shine, to keep going when we feel we can’t and to press on with the daily chores of mothering alone. Thank you oh divine goddess mental health social worker yogi free-spirited amazon mother, we needed you more than you will ever know.


Smothering Sunday

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.

Mother and Child Reunion Boney M


Cyclone warning

Cyclone Senza exploded into my life 13 years ago, after I’d been at the hospital in drug-free childbirth hell for 25 minutes. She couldn’t wait to get the party started.

Or trash our house. She has painted on the walls of every place we’ve ever rented. And they’re good paintings, so I can’t get mad. Senza leaves a creative mess in every room she enters. It would be easier to parent her if we lived in a castle with four maids, a butler and a housekeeper.

My girl, you are the funniest person I’ve ever met; entertaining, smart, animated and kooky, you have only two gears, full throttle or passed out on the floor  You struggle to use your inside voice but your astute observations about supposedly mature adults are always worth hearing.

Looking at a box of unpaid bills you said,

“Mum, that is a box full of nightmares.”

You are physically courageous; you surf, swim, climb trees, duck and dive. You’ve had breathtaking bodily self-confidence from the moment you were conceived. And you have a kind heart. This year you cared for babies in a Thai orphanage like they were your own family.

You are fast, furious, full of attitude and love for your friends, and easily bored. I hope your adventurous spirit takes you all over the world. You run head first at life, without fear. Your courage is everything I wish I could find in me (but with less back chat).

You kid, are everything. In your adolescent angst phase, don’t let teen bitches, dopey dudes and unenlightened teachers snuff out your fire.

Happy 13th Birthday to my beautiful hurricane #teenager


This shame derives itself from unknown loins

Selfless community service alert! My Pollard Parenting Method (patent pending) is now available to my adoring public. Why buy a how to raise rugrats book when Pollarding can help you with awkward mothering moments?

Public Transport + small untamed child = major public embarrassment for mother. If you are sitting on the bus with your child and he starts singing,

When you’re climbing up a ladder and you hear something splatter,

Diarrhoea, diarrhoea

When you’re rushing to the potty and you hear something grotty

Diarrhoea, diarrhoea

Say out loud at regular intervals,

“I wish his mother would come and get him.”

 

Or simply move to another seat on the bus and pretend the offending child does not belong to you. He may well pull down his pants, tug at his penis, and sing another filthy ditty you taught him, but eventually a kind old lady will give him lollies to shut him up.  She will glare at you when she gets off the bus. Pretend not to notice.

 

Writing this for a friend obviously. My children are perfect.


Handy hints for lethargic mothers

If you’re coming home to a house full of little horrors, follow my fab advice and you will know how to stay happy while raising a child to adulthood without taking them back to the pet shop for a refund

  1. Any food item that cannot be left in the oven and baked within an inch of its life is not worth feeding to a child
  2. Stop reading other people’s stupid to do or advice lists
  3. Teach a baby to find her thumb quickly, don’t pick up dummies and sterililse them
  4. Stop your child whingeing by feeding them treats. Send your kid to bed with chocolate milk. When they are toothless at age 15, tell them they can’t have their cake and eat it too
  5. Keep the lights off while you clean the kitchen, you can’t see much dirt and you’ll get the job done faster
  6. Life is too short to spend one minute of it ironing
  7. Netball will not help your child become a high achiever, step away from the court
  8. Being a part time mother is great, everyday chores don’t cut into party time.
  9. Dive into a charity bin when your child needs a new outfit; great for emergency babysitting too, especially if you find a shady one; lots of toys for kids to play with in there and cheaper than day care. You may occasionally come back from your break and your child is cuddling a dead possum, but every parent makes mistakes.
  10. The dishwasher is God’s gift to lazy mothers

Praise Marion Donovan, the inventor of the disposable nappy, she is the patron saint of slothful parents


Kids In The Kitchen

Apparently you have to feed kids good nutrition to help ’em grow. But frankly, I’m sick of cooking. Once upon a time I worked with a woman selling merchandise who wasn’t brilliant at customer service. We used to jokingly say to her, “This shop would run smoothly if these stupid customers stopped coming in,” and I feel the same about my kids coming into the kitchen. I’d have a clean house if it wasn’t for these grotty teenagers. So at dinner time, my kids get two choices, like it or lump it. My daughters usually swap the inedible contents of their lunchboxes for their unsuspecting school friends’ more tasty morsels.

 

I’ve written a comedy show about my lack of enthusiasm for being left in charge of catering, frankly it’s a job that I’m underwhelmed and ill-equipped to handle, but it has provided my children many opportunities to laugh at me. And made them good cooks.

I’d love you to bring foodie friends to my funny show as I embark on a quest to outsource the catering. You’ll laugh your guts up as I enlist the audience in my hunt for a personal cooking slave. This show contains bad cooking and more culinary disasters than a season of Gordon Ramsay, along with sensational stand-up and me singing a few tunes. If you’re tired of smashing your own avocados, come to Lou Pollard in Kids In The Kitchen for the 2017 Sydney Comedy Festival at Matchbox – The Factory Theatre, 105 Victoria Road Marrickville on Saturday 6th May at 5.45pm and Sunday 7 May 2017 at 4.45pm

 

Book tix: 2017 Sydney Comedy Festival tickets for Lou Pollard

Lou Pollard’s Looking For Mike Brady show is a joyous, wonderfully warped, true, raw romp through the minefields and thickets that beset dating, single parenthood and the predations of ageing.

**** Four stars – themusic.com.au

Lou & Wednesday Kids in the Kitchen


More fairytales for single mothers

Once upon a time a lovely hairy mother lived with three not so little tweenage pigs.

One little piggie had a floor-drobe
One little piggie had a walk-on wardrobe
And the third little piggie had a large aversion to bathing
So the big bad wolf mother swept and swept and took all their clothing to the local charity shop
And the three little pigs lived in their own home
And the big bad mother wolf lived happily ever after