Category Archives: Hugamuga

Big Mother

Despite previous accusations I’m not a helicopter parent.

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Yes I take an active interest in what my two adult children are doing.

Yes I regularly ask my daughter where she is, but she does live with us and usually I’m either asking if she is joining us for dinner or if she’s seen a piece of clothing I can’t find…

But I don’t ask to track them.

Maybe it wasn’t a thing when they were in their early 20s but I was shocked when a young 21 year old told me recently that his mother insists he shares his location.

And then a fellow mother said she too insists her 19 year old share location. For peace of mind.

On my soapbox I got and declared that they were adults and shouldn’t have to share their location with anyone!

Flash forward to a couple of weeks ago. Hugo (27) left to travel from Perth to Cairns in his little hybrid Honda. He offered to share his location with his parents (and grandparents).

Did I say yes? Of course I did.

Did I stalk him as he traveled across the country? Of course I did.

Following the journey

Did it bring me peace of mind? Kind of. I must say there was a moment when I could see the car had been driven off the main highway and I conjured up a scenario where he was bogged, or maybe the car had been stolen and dumped. But I didn’t voice those concerns to anyone and was quietly relieved when the next time I checked he’d moved on. A mother thing?

Hugo arrived safely in Cairns and is due to start his Masters in
Tropical Biology and Conservation in the next week or so.

But I wonder, where do you draw the line at sharing YOUR location?

I am a curly girl

I’ve always thought of myself as someone with straight hair. Mostly straight.

Which is a bit odd given my mother and son both have ringlets and my daughter has also got soft curls in her long hair.

So this weekend I thought I’d try the curly girl method and see how curly my natural hair is.

The CGM as it is known was developed by Lorraine Massey (Interview) and has a few principles that anyone can follow:

  • No shampoo
  • No sulphates
  • No silicones
  • No alcohol (apart from certain fatty alcohols)
  • No brushing or combing when dry
  • No cutting when wet
  • No blow drying or irons
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Hugo has been using the CGM for some years and is a master.

He told me my expensive hair treatments are riddled with banned substances and recommended his supermarket conditioner.

Hugo has spectacular curls. Note my straight (blow-dried) hair.

Of course I had already washed my hair with my expensive and naughty products.

Even so, it turns out my hair does have quite a lot of natural curl.

My natural curls

Not ringlets but definite curls.

So watch this curly space. I am going to keep going with the CGM and see how curly I go.

Stand by for silk pillowcase.

All grown up

growing up

Look how much my son has grown!

(knew I kept his baby tag for a reason)

For those interested he has recovered well from last week’s operation.

Don’t believe me? Proof.

It is an immaculate ayurvedic sexual wellbeing supplement which helps boosting up the lost cravings, keeps your sex length longer and favors you with unmatched joy all through. sample viagra for free The medicine brings less glacialridgebyway.com viagra 100 mg harm to patients’ body. I wash like completely piled up what to do what its imagined to do. tadalafil professional cheap However, just like chemotherapy, this form of treatment is not so much hectic as it used to be at a younger age. viagra free consultation Meantime I’ve been rowing:

Sunday – social row
Monday – ergs at the gym
Tuesday – training
Wednesday – training
Thursday – day off
Friday – training
Saturday – social row – OMG the water was so nice!

A strange week

Sunset drinks in Broome

My son went in for a pretty serious operation on Friday.

It was scary.

After three hours on the table he was weak and groggy.

This is of course not unexpected, just horrible to see when it’s your baby, your son, your brother.

He is recovering quickly. Resting a lot.

And. Finally. Home.

To distract myself this week (coincidentally) I travelled to Karratha and Broome (Monday-Thursday). That’s what I mean by a strange week.

I love travelling north.

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I didn’t wear my brand new sandshoes*.

The photo is me and Madelaine having a sunset St Clair Sav Blanc at Cable Beach.

Needless to say my exercise regime has been compromised…

Sunday: Social Rowing
Monday:
Tuesday:
Wednesday: Erg session at hotel
Thursday:
Friday: Just a lot of nervous energy
Saturday:

*the Pindan dirt would stain them in seconds flat

Podcast Confirmed

Hugo

You know when famous people say “my mum is my greatest fan”?

Well there’s a chance they’re right.

My son now creates a podcast every week.

On gaming.

And religiously I listen every week.

Yes. Because I am his mother.

What? You think I am interested in DOTA2??!

No.

But I am interested in him. He’s my son.

And here’s something I didn’t realise after nearly 25 years in radio.

(Well I kind of did but it’s only as I write this that it’s really crystallised it for me.)

You reveal A LOT of yourself on radio.
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Sure you think you’re just talking gardening/politics/cars/economics/surfing/fishing/gaming… no.

I listen to Podcast Confirmed and I hear about my son’s life.

I hear his relationship with his friends.

I hear his growing independence and confidence.

His sense of humour and his kindness.

I hear another side to this person that I’ve spent the last 18 years with.

And I’m glad to know this person.

Okay, I’m also learning a bit about gaming.

Of course the poor boy does have a mother who works in radio so he gets some feedback…

Weekly.

I think he knows I’m proud of him.

Probably his greatest fan.

Christmas in April

It’s PROSH tomorrow.

Remember PROSH?  Uni students create a newspaper full of vulgarity and fun and raise money for a bunch of charities.

Tomorrow my son is participating in his first PROSH.

As a Christmas present.

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My son is a gift

The Back

Awwwww.

So cute.

Ah those university days

I went back to my old college – St George’s – today.

Partly to beg, plead and plunder for my son who would dearly love to follow the family tradition (I think)  and go to the college himself this year as he studies his science degree at UWA, but also just to walk the halls and remember those “good old days”.

I don’t think I’m alone in this.

I’m pretty sure my dad, who also went to St George’s and indeed was Senior Student, also pops by to feel that red brick memory soak right in.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s no coincidence that the house I grew up in and the house I have now lived in for 13 years is also red brick…

Just sayin’.

“It’s hard to tell how much the student actually wants to come here… and how much of it is the parent wanting the student to live here.” says the acting warden – a charming man – when I visited today.

I’m sure, I murmur politely as my eyes tear up looking out his window to the old sub-warden’s cottage.

The cottage where I and a young Groover sat listening to our priest deliver pre-marriage lessons.

“I hate weddings”, was the line I remember best.

And.

“In-laws and children.  You need to agree on what you want to do about those and you’ll be alright.”

Well I want my children to go to residential college.  And if at UWA that means St George’s.

But does my son?
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I’m so excited for him, accepting his offer of a place today, the prospect of studying at UWA with his friends is brilliant.

In fact he has many more friends going to uni than I did back in the day, it must be like going on a giant road trip.

I confess I am jealous.

And yes, living somewhat vicariously.

Maybe that’s why I’m so keen on this idea of doing a post-grad degree in Archeaology….

So I had a tour of the college, and noted the changes.

Not sure I like the modern tables in that lovely old library but maybe I need to get over that…

I’m sure I didn’t help my son’s chances of getting in one iota.

But I hope.

I REALLY hope.

They offer him a place.

(And that’s if he wants to go.  Not that I’ll love him any less if he doesn’t. )

Update:  They did and he did!  Now ensconced at St Georges.

Summer jobs

He's graduated
Finished school

School is finished.

And wow.  I am now the parent of a nearly at university student.

But before that happy day – hopefully – of a decent ATAR result and an offer to the preferred course – Science at UWA – the pocket money has been cut off.

Now you might scream “Fair crack of the sauce bottle!  Give the guy a break, he’s just finished 12 grueling years of school…”

Stop it.

A summer job is good for him.

Independence.

A bit of money, certainly more than I’m prepared to give him.

Respect.

Something to do.

And he’s not alone.

Joining him in the workforce is Miss 14, who has been busy handing out resumes to local businesses and prospective babysitting clients.

My daughter
Babysitter and Waitress

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Since being on holidays she’s continued her Saturday morning waitressing job and done some work for a friend assisting at a holiday program for 4-7 year olds.

She’s good with kids.

(must get it from her paternal grandmother… sorry mum)

And how much does she like spending the money she’s earning?!!!

The only downside?

I don’t get a say in how she spends it.

A small price to pay.

So summer jobs.

They can be crap.

I spent a couple of summers photocopying in an engineering library…

But the pay packet is delicious.

And anyone who stays at home… well.

I have chores that need doing.

On not inviting girls

Bloody hell - can I go now?

This is my boy, pre-ball.

My creation.

Well mostly mine.

Okay okay he had a bit to do with it.

Oh and Groover.

But for tonight?

That’s mostly me.

With my boy’s agreement.

Y’know a lot has been said about how expensive girls can be when it comes to the Year 12 ball but I found myself forking over huge wads of cash.

Suit, shirt, shoes, tie… haircut.

Okay admittedly the haircut was a bargain.

I don’t know.

I didn’t think I’d care so much.

How hard is it being a boy – turn up in any old suit and you’ll look good right?

Probably right.

But I wanted him to feel good and look good.

I wanted him to feel special, coz you know… he is.
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And besides…

The lads

How gorgeous do they look?

And he’ll wear that suit again.

Hopefully.

Travelling in style

Interestingly lots of the boys didn’t invite girls to the ball.

They go to a co-ed school and I guess they figured girls would be there anyway.

Still I was a bit disappointed.

I think a lot of the girls would have liked to have been asked.

And I bet there were a few who wished one of these lads had asked them.

But maybe not.

Maybe I’m just old-fashioned.

Or maybe…

Maybe these boys are lucky they don’t go to an all-boys school.

Yeah.

Then they’d have had to ask someone!

A cool tattoo?

I don’t normally take photos of hunky blokes down the beach.

Surfee dude types

Especially not ones who – lets face it – could be my sons.

I’m not the cougar type.

But when I spied that tattoo on his back… well!

Smiley face tattoo

My first thought was… are you kidding me?!

Who gets a smiley face tattoo.

My next thought was… have I missed a “cool” lesson somewhere?

So tell me internets – cool or uncool?

And then we went for a walk.

It had been a hot day.  Bushfires.  Windy.
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So I thought an evening stoll en famile would be nice.

Cottesloe Beach

Fishing from the groin

When we got to the beach it was COLD!

Really windy.

A little… unpleasant.

So rather than a longer walk towards Swanborne – we headed for the groin.

A bit pathetic really.

The pylon with the smog of the fires on the horizon

Of course you can’t keep a teenage boy out of the water no matter how much you talk about shark weather…

Fun in the surf keeping an eye out for sharks