‘Tis the time for may­hem

The Riverine Herald - - NEWS - WITH IVY JENSEN

IT’S start­ing. The quick­en­ing. The month or so be­fore Christ­mas where ev­ery­thing speeds up.

All of a sud­den your cal­en­dar fills up with school func­tions, dance con­certs, Christ­mas par­ties, end-ofyear cel­e­bra­tions and awards nights and you strug­gle to have a life in between.

Speak­ing of Christ­mas par­ties, our MMG party last week­end was a roar­ing suc­cess and de­spite the mul­ti­tude of bruises across my body, I live to tell the tale.

Give me a dare and you know I’ll do it.

With the buck­ing bull re­turn­ing again, I was on a mis­sion to re­deem my­self af­ter last year’s pa­thetic at­tempt.

And re­deem my­self I did — hold­ing on for dear life for an as­ton­ish­ing 28 sec­onds.

I lasted longer than all the boys, apart from a 58-year-old vet­eran ed­i­tor who the op­er­a­tor de­cided to go easy on. So ba­si­cally I won. But it came at a cost. A hu­mungous bruise on my left thigh, and some black and blue con­tu­sions on my wrist, el­bow and hand.

I have been getting some strange looks when I head out in pub­lic. So was it worth it? Hell yeah! I would nor­mally lather on the self tan to cover them up, but there was no need this time.

Be­cause a quick stopover in Noosa did the trick. It was all about the sun, surf and sand over the week­end as I headed up north for a quick re­union with my aun­tie from Den­mark.

Any kind of Jensen re­union in­volv­ing my sis­ters and parents is sure to be an up­roar­i­ous fun-filled af­fair and this one was no dif­fer­ent.

It was three days of eat­ing, drink­ing, cel­e­brat­ing, swim­ming, game-play­ing, fight­ing, mak­ing up and cry­ing when I have to leave.

Thank­fully, I won’t have time to be sad as I will be on the go again af­ter touch­ing back down in Vic­to­ria.

Ayla’s year 6 grad­u­a­tion is this week, mark­ing my big girl’s fi­nal year in pri­mary school.

I am not ex­actly sure where those years went but they cer­tainly didn’t wait for me to catch up.

I can still re­mem­ber the day I said good­bye to Ayla as she raced off like a head­less chicken to join the other kinders at Bun­naloo Pri­mary School.

No fear and burst­ing with ex­cite­ment at what school had in store for her that day.

While that doesn’t quite hap­pen any­more (it’s more like ‘how many sleeps un­til the hol­i­days?’), school has helped shape her into the fas­ci­nat­ing and highly orig­i­nal girl she is.

Un­for­tu­nately her un­con­ven­tional and head­strong ways, which will bode well for her later in life, are prov­ing dif­fi­cult when it comes to buy­ing her an out­fit.

Gone are the days she loved twirling in a dress so that is out of the ques­tion.

She’s a tomboy and that’s fine with me. But there is no way she is go­ing to the grad­u­a­tion din­ner in a pair of jeans and an AC/DC shirt.

And so be­gan the search for an al­ter­na­tive — a nice skirt or stylish pants with a smart top, or a dressy jump­suit.

I’ve al­ways looked for­ward to the day I helped Ayla choose an out­fit for her grad­u­a­tion.

Un­til I didn’t. And I think Ayla’s step­mum would agree with me.

Eight out­fits and she chooses the short­est and strap­pi­est jump­suit.

Yes it’s cute but it vi­o­lates every rule the school has given us when it comes to dress stan­dards (no shorter than mid-thigh in length and no shoe­string straps).

So, at this point in time, we’re at a stand-off with three sleeps to go.

So watch this space.

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