Chances are if you were born in the 70’s, schooled in the eighties and getting out and about in the nineties, you would have danced along to the Violent Femmes, drunk on Bacardi Spritsers or Savanna’s, shouting at the top of your voice “Why can’t I get just one f***?”

My needs back then were simple. I needed petrol money for the 1975 hand me down beetle I used to zip around town in. I needed going out money to get into Late Night Al’s at Bruma  or clothes money to get that got-to-have-will-die-without-it blouse from Smiley Blue to go with the every-boys-gonna-wanna-get-in-these-pants pants from the Oriental Plaza.

Of course money was needed for a visit to Moolah’s in Smal Street Mall – there were 12 inch vinyls to be bought and Spice Girls shoes to be had.

Back then I was easy to please. If you bought me a drink I was yours, if you bought me three I was anybody’s. All I needed was my perm (every 6-8 weeks), the morning after pill (after the morning after) and my therapy sessions (once a week).

Now as a mom to two children I find myself asking, needing, wanting, praying for the most simple of things. 

 
Like a bath on my own. Instead of sharing a space with mermaids with pointy sharp tails, cars, trucks, building blocks, cups, a swimming Dora, a sinking ball, bubble gummy smelling bubbles all around me and a toddler insisting on washing my hair with soap

A full night’s sleep. No, not even a full night. Just four or five uninterrupted hours will do me fine

My own bed. What bliss a bed to myself would be. A pillow I can call my own, a night without a tug of war over the blanket, no kicks to the kidneys or slaps to the spleen, no toe up my nostril or foot in my mouth

How I would love to eat a food item that hasn’t been sucked, chewed, swallowed, regurgitated and then forced into my mouth. Recycling is one thing, but this leaves me green 

I miss my spot on the couch where I would sit in a vegetatively stupid state staring at a TV screen that didn’t have Dis-neeee Joooo-nia on! To watch a show where there’s blood, guts and gore instead of watching a mouse in clothes, a duck in clothes, a dog on two legs in clothes and another dog without clothes on all four singing and dancing

What it would be like to be BORED on a weekend. As a childless person ‘doing nothing’ meant doing nothing. Now ‘doing nothing’ means ‘I did nothing…you’d be interested in hearing about’

 
To drink a cup of coffee while it’s still hot. To savour a piece of cake or chocolate without having to share it or gulp it down. To be able to get a square bum from sitting down for too long
 
Some quiet time. Not to reach some higher level of spirituality, not to get in touch with myself. Just. To. Remain. Sane.

A plate of food that I don’t have to turn into a face, with a tomato smile, a carrot nose and cauliflower hair

A moment in the bathroom where I don’t have to explain what’s come out my bum, why my pee’s yellow, why I wipe my front bum and not my back bum, why I have hair ‘there’ or why my boobs are on my knees when I sit in the bath

A ‘sexy’ moment with my husband that isn’t interrupted by a wail for more milk, a cry for a clean nappy, a screech’ cos there’s “a bee in the room” or a lowly little plea for a hug

Yes, twenty years on and I’m still asking why I can’t get just one f***!

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4 thoughts on “Why Can’t I Get Just One F***?

  1. Oh my word I swear you were reading my wish list when you wrote that! So funny how ones standards have also dropped and how 4 consecutive hours sleep is like heaven 🙂

  2. 'How I would love to eat a food item that hasn't been sucked, chewed, swallowed, regurgitated and then forced into my mouth. Recycling is one thing, but this leaves me green' – This made me LOL

  3. Oh I have to smile but I guess we are all just looking for these simple little things. What I can tell you is that it does het better. Somewhere after their 4th birthday, towards 5 ish

  4. LOL! My 2 year has started actually minding what's on tv. Before,if it was cbb's she was ok with that. If it was Greys' Anatomy, she could roll with that too. Now, the little bugger actually knows that there is a difference. When I come home and what to catch up with my series' on PVR, its “Nooooo mama, Lolo mama! (no idea who Lolo is) or Teletummies mommy!!!If I want to do stuff on my ipad, it's “Want to play O'macDanos mama!” (Old MacDonalds app) *sigh*. oh, for a few moments of silence 🙂

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