Hoochiemumma

Personal Blog

Month: January 2020

Forever 67.

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Sorry to anyone over the age of 45, but I’ll be writing about snapchat for a moment…

You know the filter thingo where you can slide to the left and relive the glorious youthful face you used to own in your 20’s, and then slide to the right and see what life has to offer your face in the future? Well, not so long ago, I did that, and what I saw as I slid to the right took my breath away.  Staring right back at me was the image of my mother.

Sometimes when people die, well meaning people say that “they live on in you”. Well, it seems that my mum, who died almost 12 years ago, continues to live on… on my face.

This picture means nothing to those who didn’t know mum, but for those who did… here is “Mel-Rae“. Thanks for freaking me out Snapchat. I’d like to think that I’d sort that hair situation out a little better… but wow.

As a child I used to roll my eyes and die a little on my insides when people told me I looked like my mum. When you’re 12 years old and you get told that you look like your 45 year old mother, it’s a hard pill to swallow. Probably slightly better than being told you look like your father though…

Funnily enough, not that long ago Scarlett was told the same fateful line…”Oh, you look like your mum”. As Scarlett glanced over to me with a look I can only describe as horror, I felt her pain all the way to my inner core. I empathised and apologised for the torment I saw so clearly in her eyes. I knew exactly what she was thinking. “Why do I have to look like you?”

Fair enough, I’m no oil painting, but besides that, even if your mum is the most beautiful woman on the planet, no one wants to look like their mum when they are hitting puberty. Tween-dom is an age when you’re breaking away a little bit from your mum and trying to figure out who you are aside from her. You don’t want to be running around with your mothers face on your head when all you’re trying to do is pretend you don’t even have a mother. Or at least that’s how I felt for a few years, and I’m certain Scarlett feels this way too. Some days I embarrass her by just breathing it seems.

It’s a gift. Tweens are fun.

Now that I’m older and wiser and far from my younger years when I yearned to be an independent “woman of the world”, I’d give anything to be standing next to my mum while some well meaning person told me how much I looked like her.

Especially today… her birthday.

I also hope I inherited more of her traits than just her face. Unfortunately I missed out on her patience and ladylike language.

Good mums are so very special. No matter if you look like them or not…whether they gave birth you…or even if the “mum” in your life isn’t even a mum. Hug them tight.

Thankful for beautiful memories.

Forever 67.

M

 

 

Hooch’s on Holidays

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Like a lot of people in January, we ventured off on a family holiday. We loaded up Roxy Roadstar and off we set to be beside the seaside.
It’s only been our third venture in the Roxy beast and I’ve learnt a few things about caravanning.. and also have some questions.
Firstly… I’ve learnt that if all five of us are inside the caravan, only two people can be in motion at any one given moment. The other three people must be seated, laying on a bed or inside the cupboard like appendages of the toot or shower. And god help the idiot standing in the doorway. GET OUT OF THE DAMN DOORWAY.
Secondly… according to Mr Hooch I apparently have a “voice that carries”. Funnily enough it rarely “carries” itself to his eardrums but it can induce a half naked grumpy old prick to raise from his slumber to greet us with his man boobs flailing to tell us to STFU “because the park rules say quiet at 10pm”. It was 10:15pm. What a haemorrhoid on the butt of life that guy is.
And put a shirt on next time Mister.

Thirdly… washing. Why does it halve when we are away? Why is my family happy to wear the same outfit more than twice, but at home they adorn themselves in multiple changes for morning, noon and night. Things gonna change in the laundry dept at Hooch-Manor.

Fourthly…. why is it acceptable to serve sausages in bread multiple times as a meal and feel no guilt?
Fifthly… dishes. Why do they halve when we’re away? Maybe it has something to do with Fourthly… and UberEats. God bless you UberEats. You bring an immense amount of joy to the designated cookers of the world.
Sixthly… If you want a frothy at 2pm on a Wednesday and you are in a caravan park, then go forth and prosper. You do that shit on Wednesday in your own house, week 4 of term 2 then we’ll be booking your arse in to some AA meetings and praying for your soul.
Seventhly…. why does “Mummy” have to explain to “Daddy” that “Mummy and Daddy time” in a caravan with kids a cats whisker away will result with two of them possibly vomiting and the third demanding to know what the hell is going on. If the van is a rockin’, then mental health issues for our children will come a knockin’.
Eighthly…. it takes Mr Hooch two days before it’s due for us to leave before he chills out and stops bitching and whingeing that we aren’t all up and dressed and ready to do something before 9am. Sleeping is doing something. How bout you try that?
Ninethly…. 7 year olds are THE BEST at making friends. All it takes is some random playground chats, (some including President Trump weirdly enough!?) a couple of back flips on the jumping pillow, a climb up a tree and WHAMO.. got ma-self a new friend. Repeat this daily and a whole new posse of glorious boyhood fun ensues.
Tenthly…there is nothing more soothing and enjoyable than time spent with family and friends mixed with the sea air. Nothing.
Eleventhly… holidays away in Roxy Roadstar are never long enough and holiday blues are a genuine thing.
Twelfthly… with all of the devastation we have ingested over the past few weeks and months I hope you have also had some special time with those you love.

 

M