Monsters In-Law

Yep, this post is about those frightful monsters in-law. It has been nagging at me for a while whether to write this post because I don’t want to offend anyone of my in-law variety, however after months of deliberation I have decided,  STUFF IT… WHY NOT???

After 4 fallings out, countless snide comments, sarcasm, bitchiness and he-said, she-said’s, I have finally decided that I am bowing out of my partners family, for good. So let the rant begin!! (I understand if rants aren’t your thing and you have no interest in reading on, and no, we are not married but I will call them in-laws anyway.)

Now I consider myself pretty average on the socioeconomic scale and I’m comfortable here, we both work hard running two businesses and have two young kids. We sound normal right? WRONG!

We decided to move across the country to escape the monsters in-law, (that’s 4000 km’s across Australia), and you’ll never guess what… THEY FOLLOWED US, and decided to buy up 1 km round the corner. Yep, that’s a massive 4 million kangaroo hops, or 4 hours on a plane, or 10 days in the car……   to a leisurely stroll around the corner. WTF!!!!!

Why? I wonder to this day, especially since all they did was bitch about Western Australia when they visited. Baffled? So am I.

Now I know Perth is gorgeous, and clean, and warm (or hot, however you look at it), and living standards are great, so I thought, okay I am willing to share this great city with you, just treat it nice and don’t live in my pocket. Well they have been nice to Perth and some have not lived in my pocket. However, 6 months later, the honeymoon period is clearly over. And once again, we all clearly hate each other. I won’t bore you with the details unless you want me to in another post but lets just say, perhaps its time to hop on that jet and move to the UK. I hear they don’t like the cold weather 🙂

In-Laws

In-Laws

 

 

fishin trip

So we decided to go fishing this Easter Sunday. My idea actually. 8 months pregnant with a 2 year old. I’m living to friggin regret it!

My bloke was so excited! First we had to wait for BCF (Boating, Camping, Fishing) to open at 11am. That’s half the day gone. He has to buy a new tackle box, a knife, a fishing rod for the 2 year old (and no… not a cheap toy one, a $50 kids one, better suited to an 8 year old).

We drive 2 hours south, grab fast food on the way (from the SLOWEST fast food joint ever!), 4WD across bumpy sand (surprised the baby didn’t fall out) , climb across boulders only to battle with 2 year old for an hour with oversized rod, rocks and seaweed.

Ah friggin ell! Kill me now!

300px-Dawesville_Channel_showing_bridge

And… caught nothing.

Even feel a little sorry for me aussie man. He was so disappointed.

 

 

the aussie family

When dating an aussie bloke you are of course thrown into the world of the traditional aussie family. I’ve sifted through some of his family photos and they represent reams of thongs (flip flops), short shorts, mullets (dodgy hair cuts), budgie smugglers (also known as mens Speedo swimmers), and incredibly tanned people. His upbringing is a far cry from my own, coming from the cold UK, where much of the time family photos are taken inside, everyone wearing woolly jumpers.

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We’ve recently had relatives stay over for a week, my aussie man’s mother and his niece. We all had a great time, the kids playing and the adults chasing them around while we try to relax (as if, a 2 year old and a 3 year old make for unbridled chaos).

One thing you’ll be sure to get when aussie relo’s stay over is ultimate honesty, and now I know where my bloke gets it. If aussie’s don’t like something they’ll tell you. There is no room for pleasantries or or sugar coating, if they are thinking something good or bad, that opinion will be made public. It doesn’t matter who it offends.

No… this isn’t a dig at my mother-in-law, its a generalisation of true blue aussies. And I mean the real ones, not the metro-sexual, new age, yuppies, who despite being Australian have lost the patriotic charm.

The aussie community love their country, “the lucky country”, a mentality perhaps a throwback from the gold rush. (For a winging pomm (UK ex-pat), I don’t see the draw of the 40 degree heat, sun burn, bush fires and floods, but hey, I’m here aren’t I!) They are also incredibly protective of their country, to the point of offence (remember that honesty I mentioned), they’re not afraid to hide their opinions on immigrants (possibly a throwback of the Chinese invasion of the 1850s). But how do they expect to keep us all out when they keep telling us how friggin beautiful it is and how bloody lucky they are!