Cake, coleslaw, and polka dots.

Guys I’m quietly freaking out that it’s almost September.

Child number four celebrated his first Holy Communion on the weekend. One last chance for me to do the massive at home Communion party where I spend two days preparing, cleaning, shopping, and cooking for all the people I’ve invited and have no idea where I’m going to seat for the sit-down dinner part of things. Lucky for hubby and I everyone knows that they’re not coming to an actual restaurant, and are happy to grab a seat wherever they find one. {There’s lots of caveman style men-around-the-BBQ eating happening too}. It’s a lot of work but definitely worth it, and I love any excuse to get all my kids spruced up and looking gorgeous.

What I have yet to figure out is how to not make way too much food. I can’t seem to remove from my brain that Croatian microchip thing where the greatest disaster of all time would be to run out of any food whatsoever when hosting a party. I’m still very much riding the #zerofucks wave however, so when my husband pointed out to me that the coleslaw was almost all gone I responded with “so what, there are plenty of other salads*.” The only thing that ever does come close to running out is the alcohol. Not sure what that says about us and our friends, but we do like to have a good time.

The #zerofucks also applied to the cake topper arriving with the words in the wrong order, so instead of celebrating Rocco’s Holy Communion we were now celebrating Holy Rocco’s Communion. But everyone agreed that this particular mistake wasn’t really a mistake because the kid is a freakishly well behaved and sweet natured little angel, so we left it as is, I didn’t have to call up and get all stabby with the topper people, and we all had a good laugh. The hashtag #holyrocco is currently trending.

Also surprising is that I’m trying to be all upset at the realisation that my waist has expanded up a whole size, but the #zerofucks are actually winning the day.

I was adamant that I wasn’t going to fork out money to watch the fight between McGregor and Mayweather, because the last thing I want to support or add to is a big fat pay cheque for a known and convicted abuser of women, but in a testosterone fuelled house such as ours I was always going to be outvoted. Coming the day after the communion I was just happy to watch it with people I didn’t have to get out of my PJ’s for.

Spring is almost here but it’s still freezing cold, and I have not made the adjustment back to winter clothes. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that it’s fun to wear scarves, coats, and beanies, all I really want is to wear all my warmer weather stuff. I’m counting down the days until I can pack my boots away, no matter how much I love them. The polka dot obsession also shows no signs of going away, with this midi skirt from Sportsgirl making my day right after I unearthed a polka dot scarf I’d forgotten I own.

And I don’t know if it’s having been on holidays or if I’m just lucky right now to be sitting on one of the highs that come between the lows, or maybe it’s even the anticipation of warmer sunnier days, but my head just feels like it’s in a really good place. That’s not to say that my days are perfect and free from stress, but I’ve been thinking lately that it’s all about perspective. Stress and drama and worries are always going to be there, but I think that if we try to see the bigger picture sometimes we might realise that things are in fact better than they seem.

Much better even.


*In a first for me we ran out of not one but THREE salads! AND bread rolls**! Oh the shame! {Lots of BBQ left though. And cake. Beer and prosceco: not so much}. 😉

**There was plenty of sliced bread though because you can’t be Croatian and not eat ALL the fucking bread.



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