Getting My Angry On.

I am seeing red posting this.

If there is any spelling errors, swearing, or anything at all you may find unsettling,

I apologise in advance.

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Today I read something that riled me.

So much so that the mere mention of it to Hubby,

made him say "I agree with you, blog about it, get it out".

I logged onto my computer earlier to be greeted with the headline on NineMsn that said:

"Derryn Hinch, found guilty".

Image pinched from here

I am an avid follower of all things "Derryn" because, let's face it, he's a bloody champion.

So, I headed over to check out his latest "shenanigans" only to be greeted with a story outlining he's received another conviction and may be off to jail...

for naming serial sex offenders, who'd been convicted & are on a sex offender's register, again.

Now, this did not sit well, and still does not sit well with me.

I am curious to know, what is becoming of our country,

when a 67 year old man, who has been given a year to live,

is possibly on his way to prison [again!] for naming convicted repeat rapists.

What is right about that?

What can be said of our justice system if people can molest children, women, men, what have you,

and the people who stand up and say "this person is not only a sex offender, but is a REPEAT offender, and they could be your neighbour, gardener, local fruiterer or butcher, beware"

get a conviction and go to jail?

What the fuck?

I know a sex offender.

He was charged, found guilty, and is on a sex offender's register.

He did no jail time, despite the fact his victim was a six year old girl.

This sex offender, has re-offended.

He's still walking the streets.

I know his name, address and phone number.

He lives near a primary school.

He makes Facebook pages, posing as cartoon characters,

so that young people will add him as a friend,

AND

He has admitted he'll re-offend.

You want to know who he is, right?

Make sure the school he lives and loiters near isn't the one your child attends, right?

You want to know that the little girl or boy he's ogling while playing in the sandpit,

isn't your own baby, right?

But to tell you.

To warn you.

To stop your child from being this person's next victim,

IS WRONG.

I could go to prison for telling you his name.

You could buy a police scanner,

and hear it from the mouths of the police themselves,

but for me, a civilian, a mother, to tell you who he is,

is illegal.

To tell you, would make ME the criminal.

Derryn Hinch, to me, is not a criminal.

He is a hero.

A hero who during his last year,

could very well go to jail for protecting people.

What good is a sex offender's register if we can't see it?

Sex offender's are not likely to rape the police,

they are likely to rape us, our children, our friends, and family,

so why are we not allowed to know who they are?

What a justice system we have.

What a fucking joke.

Lucky country?

HA!

I really HATE my Neighbours.

Well, it's that time again.
You know, the time I am supposed to be sleeping and something pisses me off and ruins my plans of sleep, thus resulting in me ranting.
Yet again, it's my not-so-neighbours.
I have blogged about these turds before.

They live on the other side of the road several houses down, so technically anything they do should not impact on my life as they aren't my neighbours.

Turns out, they do shit that DOES impact on my life, regardless of not being my neighbours.
It's their darn music again.
I know, I sound old.
But it's really awful.
I once went to a nightclub. It was my Year 10 formal and after the ringing in my head that I suffered for three days afterward, I never went back to one. Ever.
Their music, now remember they live a fair way down the street, is WORSE than a nightclub.
It is loud, can be heard perfectly from inside my house, over the music I have playing through my headphones, and is often full of content that makes me want to cover my sleeping kids' ears and scream, 'won't somebody PLEASE think of the children!?'

If they played their music, yelling over the top of it, and smashing their beer bottles by throwing them on their driveway during the day, I wouldn't be so bothered, but at 1am, something's gotta give.

I understand today is a public holiday, and if it were a one off, I wouldn't whine about it so much. But, it's every night. Seriously, every single night! And they start at about 10pm and go through until about 4 or 5am!

I always admire the state of their squalor when I drive past after they've had a big night and am often surprised no-one has died on their front lawn.
The home is a public housing home.
I am not judging people who live in public housing AT ALL, but a lot of people who are in the public housing community do get judged harshly because of people like my not-so-neighbours, which is completely unfair.

When Hubby and I were house hunting, due to severe overcrowding at Mum's we were met with a lot of rejections based on the fact we had kids and had no references as we'd never lived out of home. We were never given a chance. These people make more noise and do more damage to properties than my kids could manage if I actually let them do it, yet they get houses to live in (or in their case, mis-treat) easier than we did.

How?

At least my Hubby has a full time job!
One can only assume the fact that these people play music and try to sing, scream and swear over the top of it at all hours of the night cannot hold jobs, so I am curious as to what on earth possesses anyone, least of all public housing (who couldn't even help my little family and we needed it) to give these people somewhere to dwell!?

Call the police, I hear you say!?
I've thought about it.
What stops me?
They intimidate me. I'll admit, the thought of crossing them alarms me. They are the kind of people who have, either, been, or belong, in a prison.

We live on a street with mainly older people, who are often in bed early, not to be seen until early morning, when the not-so-neighbours are winding down. With two young kids, it's not uncommon for our lights to go on once or twice a night. I worry if I rang the police they'd see the only other house with signs of life on our street during the night is our's and our home and vehicles would be targetted by their empty beer bottles. They've even ridden past on their scooters (yes, it's a common meeting ground for the teens of our town) and eyed off my Hubby's pride and joy that sits completely unprotected (aside from the security system) in our driveway.

The police have been there once since we've lived here. I didn't call them, but I peeped, and the minute the police left their property, the music was back up again anyway, louder (if possible) than before, obviously as their way of annoying the troubled neighbour further.

I like having a home (obviously) and as much as I am thankful our landlord gave us a chance to have a home, part of me is hoping someone else gives us a chance when our lease runs out because I am not keen on renewing it if they still live around here.

They are a nightmare!

/rant.

Rant.

I mentioned in a previous post that I am very opinionated and it can often get me in trouble.
Here's one of those opinions that may get your blood boiling (or you may totally agree, who knows?).

Daycare.

If you work or study and have absolutely no choice but to pop your child in Daycare, then that is cool bananas. It's your right to utilize the service for it's intended purpose.

BUT (and here's the crazy rant bitch coming out) when you are a stay at home mother, with no other job than being a mother, why pop your kids in Daycare?

I know of a mother who dumps her kid in Daycare once a week because she 'likes a day off' and do you know what she does once a week while her kid is in Daycare? Gets drunk.

Okay.

I'm up on my high horse now because I bloody can be.
I am a stay at home Mum of Two. Not just one! TWO. Double the nappy changes, double the meal making, double the dressing, double the playtime AND I do it alone most days (kudos to you single Mama's!)

Sometimes, I would give my right arm for one day off a week.

Sure, I could drop my kids in Daycare, but I don't have any right to. My kids in Daycare would take up two spots that could be used for families who need the Daycare because they work or study. Dumping a child in Daycare so you can drink is wrong with a capital W! It's abuse of a system we are privileged to have these days.

Even if I did get one day off a week I assure you I wouldn't be drinking. I would be doing housework (to distract myself) or sitting in my kids' rooms cuddling their clothes, or toys and crying because I miss them, their noise, their chatter.

The night Miss E was born I stayed up all night (after giving birth) fretting about how Master S was doing without me, and he was at home with his father, not in the care of strangers!

How a parent can say they are a stay at home parent, yet palm off their kid to anyone and everyone for NO bloody reason is beyond me!

If your child/ren is/are such a bloody burden on your life then return to work, or even better, don't have kids. People would stab someone in the eye for a chance to have a baby, and you are dumping yours off on whoever because you need a day off. Being a parent is a privilege, not a right.

Full time parenting is what you signed up for the day you had sex (excuse the crass analogy). It is tough, but every moment spent with your kids is worth how tough it can be. Daycare dumping is as good as unfit parenting when used in this way!

/rant.

Neighbours, should be there for one another... or asleep at 2am, whichever.

Mr. M has the unfortunate task of working from midnight through to 9am.

This means I am home alone.

[Please don't come and attack me].

Master S is having a sleepover at Mum's for the evening & Miss E is out like a light.

"It's 2am, so I should hope she is", I hear you say.

I don't know how long she'll sleep for because my neighbours,

[When I say neighbours I mean the westie folk who live about 5 houses down on the OTHER SIDE of the road]

are listening to Eminem.

I can hear it, perfectly from inside my house.

In fact, I can hear their bogan conversation over top of the music.

They have that bogan twang to their voice.

"Oi, Shazza, grab me anotha can",

You know what I mean.

Anyway, while my ever so bogan not-so-neighbours are keeping me up,

I figured I'd blog.

Due to my lack of my computer-ness, I am still unable to share photo's,

but believe me, when I can, you are all going to hate me.

I have a tonne of photographs.

Between my kids doing lots of awesome things,

and expanding our little family, I have shite loads of images to share.

No, I am not pregnant, nor have I magically had another child in a week.

Our expansions are pets.

[We now have 5 pets, despite our landlord saying we couldn't have any. He could've let us have an outside dog, instead he said we can have these pets, who live in the house... Where's your logic, Crazy Man!?]

We have three new family members.

We have two mice, they are the kids'.

Miss E's is "Angelina Ballerina" [Yes, after that turd cartoon character] and Master S' mouse is currently nameless.

I was going to name her Stuart Diver because she buries herself, but thought it a tad crude.

She's white and has ginger patches.

She's also the fatter of the two mice so if anyone can come up with a better name than "Stuart Diver" or "Casey the child who was bullied and retaliated with violence", I'd greatly appreciate it.

She could just stay nameless like our fighting fish, whom I have only recently named "MacGyver".

We've had him for months, and he's only just got a name.

Luckily, I have ten months to come up with something for my kids, otherwise they too would be nameless.

My Mum has a new blue tongued lizard, whom I also named "MacGyver".

Go me, for creativity!

Now, for our newest member of the family, who arrived this morning, much to my delight,

I have named him Yurtle.

Yes, Yurtle is a baby turtle.

After years, and years of nagging my parents to get me a turtle,

[Yes, I am aware I am 23 years old and there have been countless opportunities for me to buy my own baby turtle]

my Dad came to my house today and said "Put out your hand" only to sit the most precious little turtle in it.

Cheers Dad.

[I did frustrate him a little by saying "No effing way", because I have traumatic memories of my Nana saying the same thing to me as a little girl, and me being the trusting soul I was had a worm dumped in my hand].

So, Yurtle is currently living in a make shift tank, because despite my incessant desire to own a baby turtle, I was in no way prepared for one.

He seems happy enough.

He's the size of a 50 cent piece.

I measured him to end a mini-argument my parents had about his size.

Dad claimed he was the size of 20 cent piece.

Mum said he was the size of a 50 cent piece.

I measured him, so that when people ask his size, I am not a mis-informed douche.

Not saying you're a mis-informed douche, Dad.

You just have giant hands and no concept of size.

Yurtle likes to swim.

He's a pretty good swimmer.

He is also able to stick his head out of water,

I made sure of this in case he can't climb on the rock platform he has in his tank,

so he will not drown.

I must admit, aside from the noisy neighbours, and the lack of manliness in my house in the dark,

thus making me crap myself,

it's Yurtle who is keeping me awake.

I feel like I did for the first 6 months of my children's lives.

I need to keep an eye on him, just to make sure he's safe.

I lost a lot of sleep while my kids' were newborns.

I was lucky, they slept right through the night,

But it was my overwhelming need to make sure they were okay that kept me awake.

Did anyone else feel like this when their kids were born!?

I am going to watch a DVD, because there's nothing on television for poor sods like me who can't sleep.

If I watch Infomercials any longer, I may impulse buy an Ab Circle Pro.

Does anyone have one and do they work? Wait, what am I asking!?? Don't tell me. My purse can't cope with it!