Inspiration, anyone?

No wonder I’ve gone all quiet. Since arriving in Kumbuh three weeks ago, I’ve been waaay too busy watching the rice growing in the field next door. Hearing it, even: cicadas screeching under the midday sun, the water trickling along carefully carved irrigation channels, the sound of farmers’ scythes slicing through long grass.

It’s not relaxing at all.

And now, to add insult to injury, I hear that Nick Cave is coming to the Ubud Writers’ Festival. Bugger. I guess I’ll just have to drag myself away from the view.

And I’ll post an update again in about, oh, three months’ time.

(PS. Don’t think for a moment that I’m this relaxed all the time. My three children are asleep in their beds as I write. Try me at six o’clock tomorrow morning, and I won’t be quite so attuned to the rice…)

I know I’m Jurassic when it comes to technology. And I’m incredibly fortunate to have a lovely mothers’ group who can save me from myself. Because I’m the sort of person who has a list of all my e-passwords pencilled in the back of my hard-copy diary (a natty little number with reassuring paper pages, designed by a clever member of my mothers’ group – I kid you not –  see www.oti.net.au) My recently acquired iPhone – and didn’t I feel sooooo 21^st century about that, baby? – is at risk of reassignment to my nephew because my husband keeps bursting into laughter whenever he sees me using it. The comedy, apparently, is that I’m not a natural ‘swiper’. When I touch the iPhone’s screen, Stu says I look like nanna testing to see if the sponge cake is ready. Earnest, tentative and a tad arthritic.

‘I just love my new iPhone, it makes such a great coffee coaster!’

I’m not a digital native. So perhaps it not’s terribly surprising that I’ve been a bit… silent online lately. Sorry about that. But I’ve had many other pressing things to do, friends, including:

1. Looking after my three kids. Don’t let anyone tell you that age gaps don’t count. They do. Having three children aged five and under is not just ‘busy’, it’s a Hitchcock movie. What I can’t comprehend is how women do it with four kids or more. Or multiples. In fact, I believe any woman with four or more children, or multiples of any type, should automatically be conferred an Order of Australia.
2. Working. Okay, so I observe ‘flexible’ hours and don’t go into an office much. But the fact is, after fourteen hours of Hitchcock, backing up for a further four hours of work is a little… strenuous. And it certainly stops me from tweeting, bleating, swiping and hyping online.
3. Writing another book. No, it’s not a sequel to The Mothers’ Group. Truth is, I’m not entirely sure what it is yet. But I’m in the mood for fun.

Still, there are no excuses. Just look at all those mummy bloggers like Mrs Woog, and writers like Annabelle Crabbe and Mia Freedman who have young families and still manage to trot out thousands of quality words online. Look at Leigh Sales or Jessica Rowe – they’ve got kids, successful careers, and prolific tweeting capacities (AND they look gorgeous to boot).  Sigh. I just don’t think I’m made of the same stuff.

So you’ll understand, I hope, if you don’t hear much from me over the next nine months. I’m retreating into my writer’s mind – gestating in a different kind of way – and I won’t be adding much to this already occasional blog. You won’t hear a tweet out of me, but I’ll keep my Facebook page updated with bits and pieces. I just hope that you’ll forgive the long silences in between. But be assured of one thing: it’s not you, it’s me. Just ask my longsuffering mothers’ group.

If you’re not familiar with Red Threads, it’s a fabulous social enterprise operating out of 390 Street Oxford Street Paddington (Sydney), stocking vintage and new clothing for Gorgeous Women who Care about the World.

It was great to be back in the company of Red Crossers like the lovely Lynne Stockdale (Regional Operations Manager, Australian Red Cross NSW) after more than a decade since departing that fine organisation. And it was thoroughly civilised to find myself sipping champagne and speaking with adults at 6.30pm on a weeknight.

Other recent diversions from home duties have included emails from an old university friend, a former work colleague, an ex-boyfriend (friendly) and even some primary school mates. That’s right, I’ve had the pleasure of contact from people who last saw me wearing knee-high socks… ah, the power of social media. It’s something this mother-of-three isn’t terribly familiar with, but just quietly, I’m having a blast.

I’m especially enjoying the stories of people I’ve never met, who have made contact through this web site, in response to The Mothers’ Group.  Thank you all…  and keep them coming!

Every year for the past five years since becoming a mother, I’ve bought shares in the Mother’s Day fantasy. The idea that somehow I’ll be pampered all day, applauded, paraded and then pummeled (in a good way, by a strapping Scandinavian masseuse), before being fed a gourmet TV dinner and put to bed. In toasty warm pyjamas.  It’s never happened, but I live in hope.

Today is the Mother’s Day equivalent of Boxing Day; it’s 24 hours after the fact, and I’ve got a bit of distance from the experience of my Mother’s Day 2012.  Which, in reality, featured me:

1. Brawling with my children over ‘my’ croissants. (‘But they’re MINE and this is MY day. Now back off.’ Very, very adult.)
2. Standing in my blustery backyard in my pyjamas – wind chill factor zero, teeth chattering and lips chapped – role-playing ‘cats and dogs’ with my eldest. (‘Miaow,’ he said, waving an imaginary claw and pulling my pyjama bottoms down just that little bit too low. ‘Hello Jan!’ I called to the neighbour.)
3. Cleaning vomit in a stairwell at a local RSL club. Say no more. Five vomits and three loads of washing later, I was ready for Sven to emerge with his massage table. Instead, I got some help unstacking the dishwasher. Close, but no cigar.

None of this should surprise me. Like so many other aspects of motherhood – and, let’s face it, life generally – reality makes a mockery of fantasy. But while I’m prepared to accept that 364 other days of the year, I just can’t seem to let go on Mother’s Day. Every second Sunday in May, I await the glorious moment when I start to channel Miranda Kerr – I’m yummy, I’m mummy, and I’m so darn nice about my perfect life.

Miranda Kerr, breastfeeding son Flynn (Twitter). She then went and unstacked the dishwasher.

So this time next year, I’ll still be dreaming of fluffy white bathrobes, beaming children and long, lazy sleep-ins. Champagne in crystal flutes, pain-au-chocolat served by a charming French boulanger, and a leisurely walk sans whinge factor.

Call me Pollyanna, but I’m stoking the fire of my Mother’s Day fantasy. It’s improbable, but not impossible. Let’s see what 2013 brings. (And in the meantime, I’d love to hear your mother’s day fantasies and realities… )

That’s right, when my stint as Get Reading’s April Ambassador concluded, my husband departed for a foreign land and left me with…. rodents in the house. Now, being a former farmer’s wife, this shouldn’t worry me at all – as Love in the Age of Drought demonstrates, I can cope with wildlife (usually). But the sound of mice scuttling across the polished floorboards of my home in the wee hours is like a pack of stilettoed women walking down Pitt Street: it gives me the heebie-jeebies. And I almost lost a forefinger trying to set those bloody traps.

But I digress… back to the ‘Get Reading’ Tour. It was so lovely to meet readers from communities large and small across New South Wales, Queensland, Victoria and South Australia, as well as the many committed booksellers and librarians who helped make the tour possible. Huge thanks to Cheryl Arkles, Director of the Get Reading program, my hardworking and ever-cheery publicists Ali Crisp and Bethany Clark, and to the indefatigable Andy Palmer, Publicity Director at Allen & Unwin, for his ceaseless activity behind-the-scenes.

Some happy snaps from the road:

And here are my Top 10 Tour Moments:

1. Delivering a talk at Goondiwindi library with a gorgeous child (not mine) pulling at my clothes. I felt right at home!
2. Country hospitality in Narrabri, care of the Narrabri Library, ProSound Books, the Crossroads Hotel and some super-friendly locals. Rural Australia knows how to deliver a bloody good shindig, doesn’t it?
3. Meeting Natasha Boyd – one of Australia’s most enthusiastic booksellers – and her Book Bonding ladies over dinner at Il Portobello in Essendon… with the majority of them having already read the novel, less than a week after its release. What a treat!
4. Talking taboos – including pelvic floor damage – with the farming crowd at Oakey, rural Queensland. There were some very red-faced agricultural blokes in the room!
5. Meeting the membership of a mothers’ group at Arana Hills library, QLD – eight ladies having a girls’ night out to talk about my book. Very chuffed!
6. Bumping into Pat Rafter and Leighton Hewitt in Brisbane. One of them was reading, one of them was swearing. No prizes for guessing which one.
7. Being in South Australia. People were lovely, they gave me unnecessary gifts, they asked curly questions… it was fabulous. In the Clare Valley, they even put up a huge welcome sign for me in the Town Hall. I got to taste some local wine, then jog along the Riesling Trail the next morning. Crisp SA air, sunrise over the vineyards… does life get any better?
8. Being asked at every event if there’s going to be a sequel to The Mothers’ Group (A: Maybe. The characters are talking to me a bit about what they’re doing now. But I need to ignore them for a while.).
9. Tea and choccies at Black Cat Paddington QLD, lovely locals at Lilydale VIC, the bubbliest bookseller ever  – Becky Lucas from Shakespeare’s Books – at Morphett Vale, SA, a sell-out event at the ever-stylish Coaldrakes at the Barracks in Brisbane… thank you all.
10. Coming home to this drawing of ‘My Mummy’ by my eldest:

Nope, life doesn’t get any better.

I’m looking forward to meeting as many readers as possible on my travels… and to being in a hotel room by myself for the first time in five years.

Here’s what the tour looks like:

Mon 26 March, 6.00pm  SYDNEY
Launch of The Mothers’ Group, Berkelouw Books, 19 Oxford St Paddington. Ellen Fanning in conversation with Fiona Higgins. Contact/RSVP:  Genevieve Barry on  02 9360 3200   g.barry@berkelouw.com.au

Tues 27 March, 11.00am  GOONDIWINDI
Fiona Higgins Author talk Goondiwindi Library, 4–6 McLean St, Goondiwindi. Contact/RSVP: June on 07 4671 7470 or goondiwindilibray@grc.qld.gov.au

Tues 27 March, 6.00pm   NARRABRI
Narrabri launch of The Mothers’ Group at The Crossroads Hotel, 170 Maitland Street, Narrabri. Cost: Free (bar service available). Contact/RSVP: Jenny Campbell on (02) 6792 3336 or narrabri.library@narrabri.nsw.gov.au or Julie Herbert at Prosound Bookstore on 6792 5544 or prosound@nobbys.net.au

Wed 28 March, 7.00pm   GEELONG REGION
Literary evening with Fiona Higgins at Waurn Ponds Library. Contact/RSVP: Fiona Baranowski on 03 5272 6015 or Fiona.baranowski@geelonglibraries.vic.gov.au

Thurs 29 March, 1.30pm   LILYFIELD
Book talk and light lunch at Lilyfield Library, Anderson St, Lilydale.
Cost:Free. Contact/RSVP: Robin Barden on 9294 3120 or book online at  www.yourlibrary.com.au

Thurs 29 March, 6.30pm   ESSENDON
Literary supper with Fiona Higgins. Il Portobello Restaurant, 861 Mt Alexander Road,  Essendon. Contact/RSVP: Natasha Boyd 03 9374 4458 or info@bookbonding.com.au

Tues 3 April, 11.00am  OAKEY
Literary Morning Tea with Fiona Higgins. Oakey Library, 60 Campbell St, Oakey. Cost: Free. Contact/RSVP: Jennifer Pendlebury on 07 46921054  or Jennifer.Pendlebury@toowoombaRC.qld.gov.au

Tues 3 April, 6.00pm  BRISBANE
Literary evening at Coaldrakes Bookshop, The Barracks, Petrie Terrace, Brisbane. Cost: $5 incl glass of wine. Contact/RSVP: Guy Coaldrake 07 3367 8526.

Wed 4 April, 10.00am   GOLD COAST
Literary morning tea at Elanora Library, The Pines Shopping Centre , Guineas Creek Road Elanora. Free event. Contact/RSVP: Louise Pieper on 07 5581 7441 or lpieper@goldcoast.qld.gov.au

Wed 4 April, 6.30pm  BRISBANE
Literary Wine & Cheese Night. Arana Hills Library, Cobbitty Crescent, Arana Hills. Free event. Contact/RSVP: Tina Cavanough on 3480 9924 or tina.cavanough@moretonbay.qld.gov.au

Thurs 5 April, 10.30am   SUNSHINE COAST
Literary Morning Talk at Cooroy Library, 9 Maple St, Cooroy. Cost: $$ cake and coffee. Contact/RSVP: Liz Bleechmore 07 5454 9000 or liz.bleechmore@sunshinecoast.qld.gov.au

Thurs 5 April, 2.00pm   PADDINGTON
Literary Afternoon Tea with Fiona Higgins. Black Cat Books, 179 Latrobe Terrace, Paddington. Contact/RSVP: Nina Atkinson 07 3367 8777 or info@blackcatbooks.com.au

Thurs 12 April, 11.00am  SYDNEY
Literary morning tea at Montagu Cafe, Shop 2,13 Ernest St Crows Nest. Contact/RSVP: (02) 9438 4478 or Peter Kirby at The Constant Reader -bob@constantreader.com.au

Mon 16 April, 7.00pm  SOUTH AUSTRALIA
Literary Evening at Charles Sturt Library Service, Findon Library, Corner Grange and Findon Roads. Free event. Contact/RSVP: Carolyn Lethbridge 8408 1333 or Laurie McCann 8408 1333.

Tues 17 April, 11.45am   MORPHETT VALE
Author talk with light refreshments. 175 Bains Road, Morphett Vale, SA. Free event. Contact/RSVP: Bridget Coulter on 8384 0053 or bricou@onkaparinga.sa.gov.au or Mike and Becky Lucas at Shakespeare’s Books on 8382 3343 or contact@shakespearesbooks.com.au

Tues 17 April, 2.00pm UNLEY
Literary Afternoon Tea at Unley Library, Unley Rd, Unley. Contact/RSVP: Sue Roberts 08 8271 0988 or unley@booked.net.au

Tues 17 April, 7.00pm CLARE
Wine and cheese evening in Clare. Function Room, Clare Town Hall, 229 Main Rd, Clare. Cost: Gold coin donation. Contact/RSVP: Heather Lymburn on 08 88423817 or Lymburn.heather@plain.sa.gov.au

1. the greeny-black meconium of newborns (stringy!)
2. the cottage cheese-like formations of breastfed bubs (lumpy!)
3. the bulging brown stools of solid-stuffing toddlers (weighty!)
4. the tummy-and-back-smearing of Two-Year-Old-Turds (OMG!)

And frankly, friends, I’ve had my fill.

But the cosmos is a kidder, and recently my daily engagement with excrement took a turn for the worse… let’s just say I’ve discovered how hard it is to remove faeces from the fine fur of stuffed toys:

What did Bluey ever do to deserve this?

Obviously I’ve somehow failed to communicate to my children the basics of respect in relationships. Rule Number One: Never ever defecate on a loved one’s head.

Before I had kids, if you’d told me there were children on earth who would experiment with the concept of Poo as Paint, I would have called you a liar. And I would have been damned sure of one thing: my children would never do that.

Well, welcome to Adjust Your Expectations 101.  It’s a theme I dwell on in my novel, The Mothers’ Group. For better or for worse, as mothers we have to learn to deal with copious quantities of sh%*t - real, metaphorical or even imagined – or life becomes a bit of a tough slog.

So at times like this, when I’m up to my armpits in Napisan and nailbrushes, a bit of perspective goes a long way… I take a deep breath, count backwards from ten, and remind myself that no one is doing it tougher than Bluey.

Imagine my surprise, then, when an email arrived from Europe, confirming that de Botton had painted an entirely accurate picture of his mother’s ‘high maintenance’ status.

Drink, my pretty, drink... Alain de Botton's mum, Jacqueline (pictured right) greets Snow White at a cocktail function

Well, je suis désolée, Alain. I apologise unreservedly for doubting your filial instinct.

And let me just pause for a moment and, in a very middle-aged kind of way, be overwhelmed by the power of the internet.

I mean, I’m a Techno-Nobody. I’ve got a handful of Facebook ‘Likers’ (thank you! thank you!) and a small but interesting bunch of people who follow my blog.

So what’s the statistical probability of one of these blog-followers actually knowing Alain de Botton’s mother? It’s got to be the cyber equivalent of a lightning strike or a shark attack, surely.

Based on last week’s events, I might just sit back, make a cup of tea and wait for someone to advise me of the precise probability… some rogue statistician who’s also following my blog. It’s a small world, after all.