A brother and sister solve the problems of the world. Just like super heros. Except we just talk, there are no special powers involved. But if we had super powers....

It's thursday! I'm almost singing before my eyes open (at an ungodly time of the morning). It's always the best morning, I don't know why, its as if my mood is infectious. The children get dressed, eat up and are ready before 7:30am, which in itself is a miracle. Thursday moods are contagious. We dance through the school run and nothing important is ever forgotten. It's Thursday after all.

The usual drudgery of housework is a breeze, the vacuuming, the bed making, the bathrooms. I dance to the rythym of "It's Thursday, it's Thursday." in my head and it all gets effortlessly done. Nothing is too much trouble and I want to be as organised as I can. It's Thursday.

I do the school pick up with a song in my heart. I can hardly wait now, I'm nearly there and the song pounds in my head "It's Thursday!It's Thursday!", now I'm impatient. I'm just bursting with trivia. I buy the perfect accoutrements (that means wine and chips or spirits, mixer and chips), and I pick up the children. They seem to pick up my great mood (IT'S THURSDAY! IT'S THURSDAY!)and we are joyful and playful as apposed to tired and fighting.

I get my sickeningly joyful self home, settle the children with rarely given treats (such as unlimited teleision and chips), pour myself a non measured wine, dial a number and sigh with contentment.

"Hello?"

"I've got soooo much to tell you!"

It's Thursday.

A two pronged question with a (y'all will think) syrupy end.

How do I stand out? An interesting question that strikes me two ways. In my day to day life, as a genuine functioning member of society, friend, mother of three, member of a mothers group; I am the one who couches advice in funny anecdotes least they're offensive. I hide behind humour. I am usually the first to find the funny moments in anything, no matter how painful. I am pratical, for all my laughter, I can usually judge things at the heart of the matter. Practical: a blessing and a curse (at least sartorially).

As a third child and only daughter, I am the one who hides behind loud opinions. It stil surprises me after all the years of living independently how I am still almost instinctually called back to the role I was cast. A show off, a bombast, ridiculous. Never a lady. As an adult, also an advocate for my family, seeking peace through (often) painful interference, even when it was none of business, I figured if it was keeping me awake at night, I should probably take it to the family members it should be keeping up at night. If it's not my problem, take to those who's problem it really is, let them sort it out.

So how do I mostly stand out?

I hope as someone who has a family that are all friends, regardless of our differences, we love love each other. Better, we also like each other.

It's not that I am necessarily messy, my life just seems to attract it.

Just over a year ago, I discovered I was a little bit pregnant, actually I was quite a lot pregnant, 20 weeks to be exact, with number 3. We (me, hubby and two children) were living in a 1960's three bedroom. Have you ever lived in one? The bedrooms are tiny! Even the master bed room was only 3 metres square, it barely fit a queen size bed (well, it did fit but we had to sort of sidle around the sides of the room to, oh I don't know, exit.). So we (actually "him who is hubby") decided we must build a new house in one of those "soon to be up and coming" new estates. In the interim we lived with my parents. That is a different answer. And so, after 10 months of living at the parents, our house was completed and we moved in.

We have been here about 3 weeks, I had this stupid ides that I would keep this house beautiful. If you move into a brand new house that is clean and perfect, surely it's nothing to wipe all the surfaces everyday? Thus keeping it pristine and beautiful. Well, more fool me.

Many visitors came to see the new house, resulting in many an impromptu dinner invite/house warming. My birthday came. And Christmas with all the new toys to be set up in the family room. Not to mention of course that I unpacked all the essentials and the rest is in the carport, I can't decide whether to look in all those boxes or simply give them to charity.

Currently, there is a baby 'play mat' on the floor, various toys, the dishwasher needs to be emptied and then reloaded. The lounge has become the dumping ground for all the things that don't yet have homes. There is three, yes three baskets of clean clothes to fold and put away. Also about five loads to wash and hang on the line. Which I will do, tomorrow, or maybe Tuesday. About forty mosquitoes squashed onto the ceiling (couldn't believe how many there were down here, I just kill 'em and forget about 'em). Beds not made, rooms not tidied. And I thought I would be cleaner here. The problem is, I brought myself to the house. I guess a least you can tell I live here. I've put my mark on it so to speak.