Ch 39: Dischevelment – it's the new black

Today in Melbourne is Oaks Day. Or rather more commonly known as Ladies Day at Flemington Racecourse.

Glitz, glamour, heels, colour. 90,000 plus race goers admiring the finest fillies, on and off the course, under Melbourne's glorious spring sunshine.

From picnic rugs on the lawn to the ritzy marquees in the Birdcage, Melbourne women know how to turn heads with style, elegance and every so often a drunken stumble. Not that I've ever done that at the races, I swear...*cough*.

Yet over here, only a mere 15kms from Flemington, in the land of nine month old child and seven year old dog, tales of elegance and beauty are currently few and far between.

Especially today. Ladies Day.

Without providing a minute by minute account of what went down here today (dear husband has already copped that as soon as he arrived home), here are a few words to describe my equivalent of Ladies Day.

• Morning sleep in the pram out the window, woken by screaming toddler at stupidmarket checkout.
• Gives smile to mother. Met with a filthy look. Thanks, I was trying to be nice.
• Home. Little master decides to give favourite plastic toy turtle a kiss hello.
• End result – a bruised gash under right eye. His first tumble.
• AP attempts to distract inconsolable little master with an early session of The Wiggles. Wins.
• Lunchtime sleep brought forward by one and a half hours thanks to screaming toddler in stupidmarket.
• Lunch meal missed.
• AP bakes cake for dear husband's work colleagues. I know..I know, I've turned into one of those wives. Shame on me.
• Lunch meal eventually taken at 1pm after short nap.
• Little master attempts to eat table on high chair.
• Little master's nose comes off second best.
• Tears.
• AP rubs face, eye starts to twitch.
• Red nose to accompany black eye.
• Avocado and cream cheese in AP's hair.
• Buddy dog munching on left over sandwich fallen on his head.
• Grizzles continue into mid afternoon.
• Eye continues to twitch.
• Hair not looking any better.
• Walk in pram to settle little master down with the aim of sleep.
• Little master grizzles entire hour. Does not sleep.
• AP turns earphones up and up..thongs cutting into feet. Sweat running down chest.
• Home. Stinky. Discheveled. Both of us.
• Wiggles on. Who cares. Milk feed. Ugg boots on, comforting sore feet.
• Covers cake with chocolate frosting. Looks great. Hazzah. Slaps self on back.
• Starts to get little master's dinner ready. Grizzles and rubbing of eyes coming from lounge room.
• AP rubs face. Again.
• Dinner almost finished.
• Buddy dog walks slowly into kitchen.
• AP looks. Holds breath. Says out loud 'just let it happen, it's ok'.
• Buddy dog vomits substantially. It's green. It's lumpy. It's going to be ok. Cake unharmed.
• Carries Buddy dog outside. He looks sad.

 

• Hands and knees, cleans green vomit from tiles.
• Washes hands for several minutes. Washes hands again. Finishes dinner.
• Plonks grisly child into high chair. Feeds dinner.
• Little master attempts to eat table again.
• AP diverts attention away by playing aeroplane with spoonful of food.
• Aeroplane crash lands into eyeball.
• Fail. Tears.
• Rubs face again.
• Buddy peering through window.
• Bath time.
• Runs bath. Unwraps nappy from nudie rudie little master.
• Greeted by the biggest, ugliest, meanest poo received in nine months. Introduction of cauliflower blamed and cursed.
• Bath over. Dressed. Milk feed. Cuddle with Dad, goodnight to Buddy dog, goodnight to turtle, goodnight to the Hawks, bed. Sucking thumb.
• Out like a light within four minutes.
• AP notices poo on her forearm. Brilliant.

So there you have it folks. Hello Ladies Day!

Although I finished the day with bad hair, sore feet, tired eyes and a glass of wine in my hand I have a feeling there were plenty more Melbourne lasses doing the exact same thing.

The main difference though (aside from the poo on the arm..I hope) I get to do it all again tomorrow! And quite possibly with some leftover chocolate cake nearby.