Tags | "Britney Spears"

Damn You Britney, Right Again


I write this as Maddison (10 turning 35) sits in her room and sulks.  No doubt there are tears and silent curses that are inspired by me and a great deal of wishing herself into a world of glittering unicorns and cooler mothers. 

To be honest, I always wondered when “it” would happen and now I know.  “It” being, turning from a sweet girl into a hormonal tween who to quote Britney Spears , “Is not a girl, but not yet a woman”.

And the fact that she goes from calm to ridiculous in 0-30 seconds is what is spinning Phil and me out the most.  More than once we have just turned and looked at each other and silently mouthed “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!!!?”  Hurricane Maddie, that’s what.

The smallest of events are setting her off.  She goes postal when one of her brothers looks at the wrong way. She starts mean, convoluted rants directed at them for sitting too close to her on the communal couch.  She is constantly telling me I am being “so unfair”.  ZOMG you guys, you should see how she behaves when I have the audacity to tell her to hop off the computer. Then there’s the whine when at bedtime (a very generous bedtime I might add) that she hasn’t stayed up long enough.  You name it, I am the mother who is not only unreasonable in my requests to keep her room semi-clean, but also the very same that failed to produce her sisters instead of brothers.

To be fair, these explosions are only happening 25% of the time and have only  started in the last 3 months or so.  I get it,  I mean I was a young lady with raging hormones once. Ask Phil and he’ll probably tell you not a lot has changed except I can no longer call myself a young lady.

Currently the sulk fest is due to the fact I’ve just nixed her chances to go to the movies as was the plan for our lazy Sunday. Dad’s at cricket all day and I had suggested we finally go and see Toy Story 3.  Immediately she wasn’t  keen “I want to see Shrek, Toy Story doesn’t interest me”.  Interesting.  See all I hear there is “I” and “me”, which sucks for her because we have 5 people in this family so it’s never going to be all about her. 

Anyway, the inane details of her subsequent spiteful behaviour directed squarely at Sam for no particular reason doesn’t matter.  The fact that she seems  so intent on choosing the unhappy side of the line and not the positive one is what bothers me most.

So she’s in her room having a little think about it.  Meanwhile, the movie won’t be happening because even though on most occasions, I’ve given in (because I usually want to go more than them) I think today it is time to prove my point. 

I know this is small fry so far, but I am so scared if I don’t get on top of it from the start, I won’t be able to find my way back in when it matters most.
 
Yes I anticipated there would be mood swings and teen related grief of some kind, but I guess I just didn’t expect it this soon. There is no way in the freaking world I would have second guessed my mother or slammed my door in a fit of misguided rage at the age of ten. 

Or is my memory selective?

I vaguely remember desperately wanting a fluro “Choose Life” shirt and sulking my way into the Guinness World Records when instead she got me a cheaper knock-off midriff top that said “YES” on it.  Apparently my mother was a pimp.   

There is also photographic evidence of me pulling an atrocious stance outside Dreamworld because I didn’t want to go home.  Hmm, maybe Maddison hasn’t fallen so far from the Apple tree after all.

Are these hormones and mood swings fightable though?  Or should I just strap myself in and hold on tight?

Love to know of past and present experiences.

Posted in So Now What?Comments (3)

Lifestyles of the (Not So) Rich and (Not So) Famous


I read today that Britney Spears ex security guard has dobbed her into the American version of DOCS for allegedly taking to her two small boys with a belt and feeding them food that caused them to react violently to their allergies.

Now if this is true, shame on you Brit, not cool.  But to be honest, I always had this idea in my head that the rich and famous kind of just well, you know, avoided all the hard stuff.
 
I mean doesn’t she have minions to get cross at her kids?  And cooks who just organise nutritional meals 24/7? After arsenic hour is complete, I’d like to think she just drifts on in ready with warm and loving hugs whilst accompanied by soft violins and candlelight.   Isn’t that what separates her life from mine? 
 
I guess I’m only wondering this because today I awoke to the sweet, sweet smell of faeces.  Well, actually no, scrap that, I firstly awoke to Maddie whispering loudly about 2 inches from my face “MUM!  Jack has done a poo on the toilet floor”.  My eyes flicked open quicker than Kevin Rudd called the removalists.

“What?”

Maddie, almost apologetically mumbled “Sam is running around out in the hallway saying he can’t POSSIBLY use the toilet”.  Newsflash Sam, we have two toilets; Dad installed the other one over a month ago.
 
Still, I had that sinking feeling.  Turns out that feeling was justified.  There on our poo brown tiles (note – white grout), was a slightly darker shade of poo.  And it was mushed like mashed potato.   I, as a fully grown adult have never, as far I as I can remember, crapped out something as large as my three year old managed to today.    Perhaps I should stop right now and tell you, lovely reader, I’m about to massively over share.  Actually maybe I should have done that about two paragraphs ago.
 
Imagine being in your pyjamas with copious amounts of sleep in your eyes, three children inexplicably hovering around the mountain of poo whilst simultaneously trying to keep the kitten from eating said mountain, all the while struggling to work out what in the fuck is going on.   Well, that was me. 
 
Now, for some reason, I don’t reckon the Britstar has found herself in this kind of situation.  I’m pretty sure that shit (literally) would have been cleaned up well and truly before she arose from her slumber.  Nor would there be a rude awakening to find the kitten pissing on the folded washing in the corner.   But maybe I’m making wild assumptions here.

Maybe Brit is a hands on “Mom” and gets up at sunrise when her children do.  Perhaps just like me, she wakes up hearing Lego men being dropped like bombs onto her timber floor.  Perhaps she gets up and makes them early morning Milo and gets quite cross when, for the fourth morning in a row, one child cannonballs themselves into the other whilst holding that Milo. 
 
Do we just imagine the rich and the famous live such different lives to us?  Surely no amount of money gets you out childbirth of some description?  Surely no amount of cred means you don’t have to wipe your own bum?  And like any other mother, I imagine she loses her shit from time to time.  Actually I reckon we (the common people) are lucky to some degree.  We don’t have a third party stranger watching us 24/7 who sees us lose our patience, sometimes unfairly, with the little ones.  No one is generally there who keeps a keen eye on say, our meal choices and tut-tuts when we decide a pie & chips night is the best we can manage.  
 
I always marvel at Oprahs fluctuating weight.  I mean, I excuse my weight gain and lack of organic, healthy eating by blaming my innate lack of ability to plan and my complete busyness.  Surely, as the richest woman IN THE FREAKING WORLD, she could just employ someone to prepare really healthy yet tasty food and then just pay someone to whirl her round on an Ab-King Pro?

I digress.
 
The point is, we all lose our shit from time to time and hey, stand too close to my front door on some days and you may well hear what sounds like a screaming banshee with its arse on fire.  That would be me, telling off my kids for one reason or another.     Sure, not all of us shave our heads in front of millions and/or lose custody of our kids, and to be honest, if I see another photo of her having a ciggie above her kids head, I may very well go postal myself, but the point is, not one of us can say we are without fault. Can we?

Posted in So Now What?Comments (2)

Too Far?


Massive Hoo-ha in the states at the moment about this Miley Cyrus’s new song – “Can’t be tamed” and it’s matching sexy music video. A lot of people in the US are not happy. There are a lot of comments along the lines “She’s a role model” “She’s not Britney Spears, stop trying to tramp yourself up”. In fact, here are a few:

“All I can say is that this is a tasteless video! Leaves nothing to imagination! Definitely not something that young girls need to view.”

“Is this any way for a recent “American Idol” mentor to behave?”

“miley your no britney spears, learn it!! ur a role model for little girls not little tramps…sick!!!!

I personally, am more affronted this commenter doesn’t know their “There, their and they’re”, and basic grammar, but that’s just me.

OK, so here’s Miley Cyrus’ controversial new video, Can’t Be Tamed.

Now I’ve watched the above, and guess what, as a mother of an impressionable 10 year old girl, I’m cool with it. I mean, let’s face it, Miley Cyrus is 17. Not long until she is 18. And guess what, I hate to burst your bubble, but lots of 17 year olds are TOTALLY HAVING SEX. Or at least wishing they were.

And roll back 8 years ago and Christina Aguilera’s video clip for Dirrty. Now, the following clip comes with a “Not Safe for work” warning. Nor is it recommended for anyone under, oh, the legal sexual consent age.

So, here’s the thing, two girls, both came through the ranks as good, wholesome young ladies. Both are/were role models. Miley of course, plays the blonde wigged, squeaky clean, double life leading, Hannah Montana in the smash hit TV show and blockbuster movie of the same name. Christina, started out as a golden haired, Mickey Mouse Club member, exactly the same way as her compadre and good girl gone postal, Britney Spears. Granted, smaller children and tweens (girls stuck between kid and teen) look up to these actresses/singers.

But at what stage do we let them grow up. I mean, look at our own home grown “talent” Nikki Webster. One minute she’s a cute 12 year old singing Strawberry Kisses, next she’s getting her norks out for Zoo magazine and dismaying all the Nannas of Australia. There is obviously a line they cross.

For mine, Miley has crossed hers. She has breasts. She has an amazing body. And for all you naive ones out there, she has sex. She’s allowed. So, I’m guessing, she is therefore, attaching a sexy music video to her new song, because, she wants us all to know, in no uncertain terms, she is growing up.

I control what my kids watch and to be honest, there are a hell of lot more provocative video clips on Video Hits on any given weekend than this. I remember the very first record I purchased with my own money, with my very straight mother supervising was Madonnas “Like a Virgin”. I played it on high rotation, with absolutely no clue as to what a virgin was. To be frank, I just liked the song.

Look, sexualising our children is definitely a major problem. I am not downplaying that. Is Miley the devil incarnate because of this particular music video? My opinion. No. Time will tell if she pulls an off her chops, head shaving Britney Spears. All we can do, is sit and watch.

Posted in Screen ScoopComments (0)


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