Wub Boo Mummy

Are you calling me a mad cow?

Wub Boo Mummy — Wed, 22 May 2013 23:33:04 +0000

You know that look of horror on people’s faces when you mention your child (or you – thanks kids) has hand, foot and mouth? No? Then you haven’t experienced the joys of this particular childhood disease.

Correctly interpreting their look, you quickly reassure them that it’s not the same as the one that cows get.

“Oh zo you haven’t got ze mad cow disease zen, hur, hur, hur.”

They don’t actually say it in a German accent, it’s just that in my mind anyone who does a ‘hur, hur, hur’ laugh automatically gets pictured as a fat, jovial German wearing lederhosen. And the funny thing is that they all do it; there’s something about inferring that someone is a mad cow that automatically brings on that particular laugh.

So it’s been two weeks of torture in our household. My son was the first to get it, followed by my daughter when he was getting over it, and then of course I got a mild dose.

My son had spots in his mouth and on his eyelids. He was well again after a few days. My daughter had it much worse with the spots in her mouth, hands, feet and a few on her face. Hers lasted 9 days. And me? Well I got a few blisters in my mouth, and that was it. Yup nowhere else. Move along now. Nothing to see here.

But, hypothetically speaking, given that the virus can be spread through faeces there is a chance that the blisters might also be found in your crack, and, again this is all hypothetical, if you got haemorrhoids from a whole day of pushing to get your son’s giant head out your vagina, then those blisters might just be @##%%#@%@^%@#@#$%^$@^%&^%&%^%#@$$.

Mad cows are probably only mildly annoyed compared to you.

Just saying.

Here’s the facts about Hand, Foot and Mouth taken from the Ministry of Health website.

It’s a relatively common virus that is highly contagious and spreads through direct contact, saliva and through faeces.
It’s most common in children under 10 years, and preschool children tend to get sicker.
The first sign is a mild fever that occurs 3 to 6 days after exposure. (I actually disagree that the fever is mild. Maybe it’s a new strain, but all the parents who’s children got it at kindergarten agree that the fever was the worst part with very high temperatures that were hard to bring down, with some children requiring hospitalisation.)
painful red blisters on their tongue, mouth, palms of their hands, or soles of their feet
loss of appetite
a sore throat and mouth
a general feeling of weakness or tiredness.
The disease is usually mild and lasts three to seven days. It can be confused with:
- chickenpox (but the chickenpox rash is all over the body)
- cold sores in a child’s mouth.

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Parental guilt and how my son got his mojo back

Wub Boo Mummy — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 02:17:50 +0000

Last year I wrote about my son learning to ride his motorbike by himself. Since then he’s had a bike upgrade. It went well to start with, but then he and his bike had a disagreement and we struggled to get him to ride it. If we took him down to ride on the grass by the river he was happy enough just pootling around, but put him on a dirt track and all his confidence disappeared.

Now his motorbike and safety gear wasn’t cheap, so we couldn’t really afford to have it sitting around gathering dust on the off chance he might want to give it a go again. We were faced with the option of selling it and either getting him a trail bike instead, or giving up on motorcycles all together.

We had agonised over whether we’d put too much pressure on him; neither of us wanting to be one of those over-bearing parents that expected too much of their child. Was it our exasperation when, for seemingly no reason, he would no longer be willing to go round a corner or over a jump that he’d had no problems with before that was causing the issues? Had we upgraded his Peewee to the more grunty KTM before he was ready? Had we used his motorbike as a bargaining tool for good behaviour too often? We’re we expecting too much of a four year old? Maybe he just didn’t enjoy riding any more. We were feeling all kinds of guilt thinking that maybe we had ruined something that he used to love.

As a last ditch attempt, we decided to take him to the motocross track at Easter for the Capital Champs where he could ride if he wanted to, or just watch, but it had to be his decision.

The day before the racing we took him to the local BMX track to ride his BMX bike. It was his first time there and he loved it. He didn’t have any of the cornering issues on his BMX that he did on his motorbike so we explained that he could use the same principles of cornering when riding his motorbike. It was like a light bulb moment for him and suddenly there was a little spark in his eyes. Later that day he told us he wanted to ride his motorbike.

At 2 o’clock the following morning he came into our bedroom and asked if it was time to go to the track. I knew then it was going to be okay.

With Jimmy having to work on the first day, I had to take him by myself – we figured this could be beneficial because I tend to be a bit more easy going where his riding is concerned. Whether it was because it was just me, or because his friends were riding, or that the track was so much better than the one he’d been used to riding, or because somewhere in his head he’d got it all sorted out, I’ll never know, but he had a fantastic day. He couldn’t wait for each of his races to come up and he rode consistently throughout the day.

He’s got his race face on.

His best race start where he got the holeshot into the first corner

By his third race he was getting airborne on every jump.

The following day he was keen to race again, despite the fact that it was raining. The track soon became very slippery and it was harder to ride as the mud stuck to his wheels. He fell off many times, but every time he got back on and kept going.

At the end of the weekend he was awarded a medal for coming seventh, but to us it felt like he had come first.

He’s pretty darned pleased with his medal.

He’s so much more confident with his riding ability now – so confident, in fact, that he asked if he could do the other track. Yup, not content with the minis track, he wants to have a go at the adults one!

Thank goodness we’ve got another seven years before he’s old enough to ride this track!

I don’t think I could be any prouder of my son – my little champion.

The Toddler Birthday Game

Wub Boo Mummy — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 00:15:28 +0000

After seeing all those birthday games circulating on social media, I decided a toddler version was required.

All I can say is thank goodness my son didn’t arrive on his due date of 31 May!

Turn an entertainment unit into a doll house and superhero hideout

Wub Boo Mummy — Fri, 15 Mar 2013 02:16:07 +0000

How to turn an entertainment unit into a doll house, school and superhero hideout

My kids have become bored with the kitchen I fashioned for them from an old entertainment unit so I figured it was time to put it to a new use. Before we started I gave myself a pat on the back for doing such a ~~half-arsed~~ basic job when I turned it into a kitchen, because it meant it was easy to transform it into a totally different play space, whilst still being able to turn it back if required.

I’ve had both kids home all week as they’re unwell so this has been the perfect project to entertain all of us whilst stuck in the house.

I now present to you the doll house with man-cave basement, school, and secret superhero hideout.

Master 4 and Miss 3 can happily play side-by-side in the same play space. Sometimes they play with the dolls, other times it’s with the superheroes and villains, and many a time they are each playing their own game in companionable proximity. Often something the other is doing will peak their interest and their games will meld together; a delightful mix of family life, heroic rescues, and dastardly deeds that always result in jail time for the evil villain.

My daughter is sick. Therefore her hair is brought to you by “Come near me with that brush and I’ll cut you”, and her clothing is by “Go look in the mirror before you even think about commenting on my clothing, you judgemental cow”. Thank goodness she has this play space to distract her from how much she dislikes Mummy today.

Here’s a closer look at what’s happening in this World. . .

Are you wondering why there’s a big stick hanging from the balcony? Remember it’s a man-cave. Usually Daddy’s drink when they’re hiding in their man-cave. Ho-ho-ho it’s so much fun to play practical jokes on your brother who teaches at the school, no? Use the stick to knock on the door below and then . . . (please don’t say golden shower, please don’t say golden shower)

Moving on. Here is the side view.

Triple bunk beds – yeehaa!

And now a closer look at the girly side.

Typical! The Daddy is playing silly buggers from his man-cave balcony whilst the Mummy is busy bathing the baby.

And here’s a closer look at the superhero lair. Please note the effort I have gone to to make it look all superheroey.

That’s the Green Goblin escaping from jail on the bottom right whilst Spiderman and The Green Lantern show off their dance moves or something in their funky futuristic-looking secret hideout.

What do you mean it looks like something only someone in the 1950s would think of as futuristic?

Look at those groovy futuristic bubble windows, and that awesome futuristic table made from a CD and tinfoil-covered toilet roll tube. Not to forget the awesome colourful tubes that were once part of a marble run. And then there’s the old formula tin covered in tinfoil next to the toilet that the soldier is taking a piss in. That’s dead-sexy futurism right there!

∞

If you came to my website in the hopes of getting ideas to create an amazing kitchen or dolls house from an old entertainment unit, like all those cool ones you see on Pinterest, then sorry.
My advice to you is that you don’t need to put a whole lot of effort and money into creating the most amazeballs kitchen or dolls house, because your kids will love it whatever you do. And if, like my efforts, the transformation is fairly basic, it makes it easy to transform it into something else when the time comes. Hey I could even transform this old entertainment unit into an entertainment unit again!

If you liked this (or even if you disliked it) feel free to leave a comment below, and/or follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Google+ or Pinterest.

I’ve-a weta the bed

Wub Boo Mummy — Tue, 12 Mar 2013 17:50:01 +0000

I’ve-a weta the bed

You know that moment when you’re sound asleep in bed and the collar on your husband’s t-shirt (that you ‘borrowed’ to use as a pyjama top) feels funny?

Naturally my first thought was that I was wearing the t-shirt round the wrong way since I do this on average once a week and only ever notice after I’ve been wandering around in public for some time. I batted at what I thought was the tag to try and make it more comfortable, then rolled over and lay my hand down on the mattress next to my pillow.

There was something there.

It was angry.

It bit me.

So I did what any reasonable person would do; I sat bolt upright and freaked the hell out.

Between my shrieks and slaps to his face while my arms flailed, Jimmy tried to calm me down by telling me I’d had a bad dream.

Pah!

He changed his tune when a whole lot of angry noises started coming from the region of my pillow. The way he scrabbled out of bed and leapt across the room to turn the light on would have been hilarious in normal circumstances, but not when you discover you’ve got a sodding big weta in your bed.

This is not the weta that was in our bed. Ours was bigger. (Note: possible exaggeration)

Source T.E.R.R.A.I.N. Click to see more weta pictures by Phil Bendle.

I’m sure Jimmy was making girly shrieks as he ran out the room, leaving me to have a stare-off with a giant bug who clearly felt that ownership of our bed had been transferred to him. Fortunately, the return of Jimmy, and the placement of a colander on top of the malevolent stink-eye-giving guest in our bed just as he appeared to be about to challenge me, restored order to our World. Order you say? Why yes, we’re so used to having noisy, angry little people around us, that this angry little mofo calling us names from his little colander prison seemed perfectly normal. I just wish a colander and item of junk mail were as effective at removing my children when they have hissy fits.

With the crisis averted, I hopped back into bed and fell sound asleep.

Feel free to leave a comment below, and/or follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Google+ or Pinterest.

Blogtabulous Kim Bongiorno

Wub Boo Mummy — Sun, 24 Feb 2013 06:07:10 +0000

Blogtabulous celebrates writers who aren’t afraid to make fun of themselves to make you laugh. Actually, they are chosen not for their writing talent, but for any bizarre photos I can dredge up of them to make my fabulous magazine covers. Really the rest of it is irrelevant. It’s just pure luck that they happen to be funny too.

Today I’m interviewing Kim Bongiorno from Let Me Start by Saying. Now she’s so busy with all her writing gigs that the only slot available for our chat was during her morning ablutions. The acoustics in the powder room were so good that we didn’t need side-by-side stalls to conduct our interview, which is just as well as one of us (and I’m not saying which) might have a bit of a problem with anal odour.

As we dropped the kids off at the pool, I asked Kim to tell me about herself.

I’m a giant, white, slightly furry lady who used to have fabulous fun bags, living in the suburbs with my two kids and very patient husband. My blog began as a way to track my journey from SAHM to professional writer while Life kept throwing ridiculous amounts of bullshit my way. It really began to blow up once I shared my year-long frustration with a broken butt, and every procedure to fix it. It has been the kind of ride that’ll give you borborygmi, which is the very best kind of ride.

Why do crayons taste like purple?

Because purple is pleasant enough a flavour to not make you barf if you accidentally consume crayon, but not delicious enough to tempt a repeat, unless under dire circumstances. See also: Children’s Liquid Pain Medication.

♦

What’s it like to have such a famous anus?

My busted back door catapulted me to the ranks of celebrities such as Jennifer Lopez and Kim Kardashian, only nobody actually wants to photograph mine, being that it is all scarred and whatnot. I get VIP treatment at colorectal surgeon offices, which is way cooler than getting VIP treatment at the hottest night clubs.

The legions of fans that I assume surround me all the time are not intimidated by me because I’m so open about my broken butt troubles, so they simply walk around as if not even noticing me. It’s pretty awesome.

Wow, that’s amazing because my fans do exactly the same. Isn’t it great being able to pluralise a word so people think you’re really famous. For me fans = 3 people and 2 of them are imaginary. Damn I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. Quick, distraction question…

♦

If a train travelling at 100 miles an hour is running an hour late, and a spaceship travelling in the opposite direction is doing 300 km an hour, why is there poop in the corner?

There is always poop in the corner.

♦

Which children’s television character most deserves to die a horrible death, and how would you kill them?

There is a tie between Barney & Caillou. I want to feed Barney to Caillou kebab-style, then force Caillou to listen to his own voice in a tiny, dark room until he spontaneously combusts from the horror.

So much violence Kim and yet I’m strangely turned on. On that note, if you were trying to seduce me, what dessert and alcohol would be involved?

This is easy. I make friends by inviting their kids over to play with mine at dinnertime. Then I make my butterscotch cookie bakes (basically a butterscotch chip cookie bowl rolled in raw sugar, which caramelizes as it bakes) and fill them with Haagen Dasz cinnamon ice cream. All the sugar and the contrast between hot and cold will make you drunk with love for me. We won’t even need booze. Though, we’ll likely have some red wine in us by then. Either way, you’ll want a piece of me after that. Guaranteed.

Is it wrong that Kim’s getting me turned on with her chatter whilst we’re sitting on toilets listening to each other pooping?

My desire soon turned to horror when I went to wipe. Nice one Kim!

After several failed attempts to lob some loo roll over the door, (apparently Kim can’t throw when she’s laughing hysterically), she finally succeeded and I was able to emerge. As we washed our hands I tried to get Kim to tell me about her deepest darkest fantasies to do with male strippers or some such thing, but, uncharacteristically, she blushed and fobbed me off. Instead she pointed out what she and millions of other women all agree is the very best part of the male anatomy EVER!

Mmmm, I’m not going to argue with that.

♦

Which of your blog posts is your favourite?

I want to say House Rules: The Complete List (so far), because it was my friends who insisted I share it on my blog, proving they know me better than I do, but the amount of people sharing and printing out and commenting on Hold the Door: Lessons for My Kids thrills me. It just means that though most people come to me to laugh at the madness of parenthood, there are so, so many good hearts out there in people who desperately want to raise genuinely good kids. And this makes me insanely happy.

Another of Kim’s popular posts, turned into a meme and doing the rounds on the internet. Make sure you credit Kim if you share it.

You’ve published a book. Tell us about it.

Part of My World: Short Stories is a collection of 21 fiction pieces I created from online writing prompts. It is divided into four sections, and covers all types of stories, from reunited lovers to teenaged angst, Sci-Fi drama to surprising humour. This is a quick-to-read eBook created to remind people that I’m a fiction writer at heart. I have a Young Adult Fiction novel I will try to get published this year, and hope that once people read my eBook, they will get excited to see what else I have up my sleeve.

It is available for only $0.99USD on Amazon or Smashwords. If you don’t have an eReader, you can easily download the free Kindle App for smartphones or iPad.

♦

Where can people find you?

My blog LetMeStartBySaying is the best place to start: I have links to most of the places I can be found all listed at the top of the home page. I spent far too much time on Facebook & Twitter. My author website is KimBongiornoWrites, and the direct link to all the books I am in is on my Amazon.com Author Page. Yeah, I get around. It’s how I roll.

♥

If you would like to win a copy of Kim’s book on kindle then leave a comment below and I’ll do a random draw for a winner when I have enough comments to justify spending 99c (i.e. more than one).

Sadly our time was up. Before rushing out the door, Kim leaned in close as if she was going to kiss me, handed me a can of odour neutraliser and sweetly whispered, “You might want to spray some of this down your ass crack honey.” (For my non-American readers, yes, I know I spelt arse incorrectly, but Kim is American so she says it wrong.)

Thanks for your time Kim. Oh and don’t forget to give me your address so I can come over for dessert. Kim?

Kim?

Blogtabulous Hollow Tree Ventures

Wub Boo Mummy — Mon, 11 Feb 2013 20:28:34 +0000

Welcome to the very first issue of Blogtabulous where we interview the luscilicious (what? If I say it’s a real word then it is) Robyn from Hollow Tree Ventures. Robyn writes a humorous blog that will have you wetting-your-knickers laughing, and is also the creator of the infamous daytime drama, As the Dollhouse Turns.

Bwahahahaha “back soon”. This is why we’re humour writers.

Whilst our respective other halves made the mistake of having showers (not together, silly) we wrote notes from the only paper available in our houses – our children’s precious artwork – and made a run for it while the children were occupied with full on warfare.

We met in a dimly lit bar where people were too wrapped up in their own troubles to wonder how two such stunning women had been able to escape from their respective kitchens. Yes, it appears we had also managed to travel back in time to the 1950s.

Over a few drinks I managed to ask Robyn the important questions that none of you realised you were dying to know.

Can you tell our readers a little bit about yourself, and while you’re at it, pour me another glash of wine. Hehe I mean glash… glass. Yesh glash ish what I meant to shay. Glass damnit.

I’m just a lady who loves sarcasm, writing, wine, beer, other bottled items, long walks on the beach, and my husband. Oh, and my kids are okay, too. I’m not pessimistic, but I am a realist – and based on my observations and experiences, real life isn’t all rainbow-scented unicorn farts. Sometimes, it sucks. That’s what I’m here for – to make people feel better about themselves by honestly revealing my own suckishness, and for kicking real life in the proverbial erinaceous hoo-hoo.

Why is this hedgehog picture here?

If you found a tortoise lying on it’s back and waving it’s legs in the air, what would you put in the bowl you made out of it’s shell?

I really did find a tortoise once, and when I picked it up, it was full of (look away now if you’re squeamish!) maggots. To make up for the lifelong trauma inflicted by that moment, I’d fill my tortoise shell bowl with cash. Not that it would really teach the tortoises of the world a lesson, but cash does always cheer me up.

What riders will you have in your contract when you’re famous?

I’m really low maintenance, so all I really want is ten minutes to myself. And free high-speed internet access. And some Skittles – but not the yellow ones. Those are nasty. And a fluffy white robe, which I won’t wear because I’m not really a robe person, but I want it hanging on the back of the door to make the room feel more luxurious. And a chocolate fountain. Oh, and a tortoise shell full of cash.

Huh. I guess I’m not as low maintenance as I thought.

If Hollywood makes a movie about your life, which actress will play me and why?

We will both be played by our children, who will be sitting on each other’s shoulders all stacked up so they can wear our clothes. That should keep them occupied long enough for us to go out and have a few drinks.

I’ll drink to that. Hic!

Why isn’t the number eleven pronounced onety-one?

That’s a good question – I’m still trying to figure out when they’re going to make eleventy a real number, since I use it all the time and no one seems to question it, yet they refuse to teach about it in schools. Sigh. I’m going to guess the answer to both our questions has something to do with general stupidity.

You’re on a gameshow where the object of the game is to piss off as many people as you can. Your victim is a frazzled mum walking with a toddler and her baby in a frontal baby carrier. The toddler is lying on the ground having a tantrum. The baby has had a blowout – the poo has gone up it’s back and out the top of the carrier, and is also leaking down the baby’s legs and onto the mum’s crotch and thighs. What unsolicited parenting advice would you give at this precise moment?

“Wow, you really shouldn’t put your baby in a front carrier when he’s about to poo, should you? Oh, it’s not a “he”? Well, if you don’t want people to make that mistake, you might consider a frilly headband for a baby girl with such masculine features. You might also consider cutting sugar out of your toddler’s diet, unless he just naturally misbehaves like that all the time. Looks like somebody needed a nap before Mommy dragged everybody out to take care of her errands! I’d suggest giving him a hug and consoling the poor dear, but I’m guessing you’re more concerned about the poo stain setting in your pants. You know, if you’d spent as much money on that baby carrier as you did on those slacks you bought for yourself, you wouldn’t be having this problem.”

Please let the record show, if anyone ever actually said any of that I’d be morally required to punch them in the neck.

Which character in the famous daytime drama, As The Dollhouse Turns, are you most like?

When I read this question to my husband, I joked, “I’m probably most like Buzz,” to which he replied, “Yeah, I’d say that’s about right.” He didn’t even get that I was kidding. Which just goes to show what an insensitive, self-absorbed, lazyass Buzz I am, I guess.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, mister,” says the officer, who’s also smiling brightly for no particular reason.
Buzz under arrest from episode 7 of As The Dollhouse Turns

Whose leg would you most like to dry hump?

My husband insists that I only dry hump his leg, but if we ever meet face-to-face, Ms. Wub Boo Mummy had better prepare her leg for the dry humping of a lifetime!

Editors note: Well this is awkward. Now everyone will know that it was a barefaced lie that we met up in a seedy bar. Perhaps this picture of Spock and Captain Kirk will provide a good distraction.

Link to your favourite blog post: this one because it outlines just how sarcastic I am. And lazy. Let’s not forget lazy.

Confess to one of your sins

Where you can find Robyn

Hollow Tree Ventures - the blog. Make sure you are wearing your incontinence pads before you start reading.

Facebook - where you can find little gems like this

Twitter - where our messed up love affair goes on behind the scenes.

Sorry this is the tamest tweet from Robyn I could find.

Pinterest - where Robyn heads when she wants to feel inadequate for a while. If you like to pin, please join her. How else will you find crafts to make with all the burned food she ruins?

Want to know what the deal is with that butterfly headwear on the magazine photo? How to look fabulous

Craft Fail - It’s soap that looks like someone’s junk. It’s a baby doll that looks like a potato. It’s almost a double rainbow fail (so intense.) It’s CraftFail, and it’s your community of crafters admitting that not every craft project looks like Martha made it. Call them prototypes, call them first drafts, or call them huge errors in calculation, but they’re craftfails.

Next issue of Blogtabulous will feature Kim from Let Me Start by Saying. Well, hopefully, because she was drinking lots of wine to get through being stuck at home with her kids during a blizzard when she agreed to do it.

PS Don’t forget to leave a comment below, bla bla bla.

My Crafty Valentine

Wub Boo Mummy — Sat, 09 Feb 2013 18:57:32 +0000

I don’t do the whole Valentine’s Day thing, but a lot of people get really excited about it, particularly crafters, and the craft blogging world is filled with projects for you to make for that special someone. With my new-found crochet addiction I’ve been searching the web for patterns and signing up for the odd newsletter here and there. Imagine how thrilled I was to receive one with some great Valentine’s gift ideas. Here’s the blurb that will make you want to grab your crochet hook and craft away.

“Valentine’s Day is only a week away. That leaves just enough time to whip up a quick gift for a special someone in your life. There’s nothing like a handmade gift to communicate how important someone is to you. To give you a little bit of a head start, I have compiled a short collection of some of my favorite crochet gifts, all of them perfect for Valentine’s Day.”

I bet you’re all wondering what exciting gifts they suggest for me to make my beloved.

Oh yes, my man will look fabulous in these great leg warmers, cowl, mittens and that fabulous bag dahlink. Okay, sexism aside, I’m pretty sure that the majority of people who crochet are women so either I’ve signed up for a lesbian crochet group or they figure we gals need a bit of self-loving.

In the spirit of inquiry I decided to see what’s hot in the Valentine crafting world. First I did a search on Pinterest but soon found myself becoming nauseated with all the cutesy heart crafts. So I turned to Google. It was all cutesy crafts preceded with the words adorable and sweet.

I decided to refine my search by adding the words weird, strange and bizarre; I was utterly disgusted that not one single crafter out there owned up to the fact that their crafts were a bit odd and so nothing out of the ordinary showed up.

Finally I did an image search for Valentine’s crafts and found what I was looking for.

Ah yes, nothing say I love you like a doll ripping her own heart out.

Tired of dropping hints? These pillowcases should make your intentions loud and clear. Buy white pillow cases and use a Sharpie to write the words for that extra special personal touch. Wear protective head-wear in case of massive dust cloud caused by your intended running for his/her life.

source

Good housekeeping reckons you should bake your loved one a turd covered in, umm, hmmm, well I’ll let your imagination work it out.

source

Home-made love coupons are a quick and easy last-minute craft when you realise you’ve forgotton Valentine’s Day again.

The self-canvass. Not. Creepy. At. All.

source

Nothing says I love you like knitting your other half pony headgear.

Source

Subtle

Source

So what are you crafting for your significant other this Valentine’s Day?

PS I love comments so feel free to leave one below

How to look fabulous

Wub Boo Mummy — Wed, 06 Feb 2013 01:48:43 +0000

We’re having a pretty hot Summer here in New Zealand this year, and the humidity has been awful, so when a Kiwi celebrity asked people to tweet pictures of their humidity hair I didn’t need asking twice.

Yeah, I know you all think I look fabulous, but I have to admit that I’ve been feeling a bit down about my looks lately. I’ve gained quite a bit of weight and the ravages of time have left me feeling frumpy and unattractive. There was only one thing for it – a makeover was needed.

Sadly I can’t afford one.

Fortunately Miss 3 was keen to take on the challenge once I mentioned it, and after hours of whining and a small tantrum, I caved and let her go for it.

Gathering up my make-up supplies I explained which bits went where and let her go for it. Regular updates on how ‘faberlers’ I looked gave me hope as her gentle brush strokes relaxed the lines on my face. Every so often she would stop and study my face before deciding to add a bit of make-up here and there.

Finally she was satisfied with my new look. With bright eyes and a beaming smile she announced that I looked beautiful before leading me to the bathroom to check out my new look in the mirror.

I think it makes me look younger. What do you think?

As I sat there hoping no one would come to visit, Miss Three did a complete about turn.

“You look like a monster, Mummy. Can you wash it off now?”

Sleep my darlings

Wub Boo Mummy — Thu, 31 Jan 2013 21:57:31 +0000

Sleep my darlings. For the love of all things chocolate, shut your eyes and go the F to sleep!

My children wake up arguing with each other and this quickly disintegrates into all out war as they rush through to our room to get the coveted spot cuddled up to Daddy. The loser has to snuggle up in the middle – a fate worse than death if my children are to be believed. I would have thought the middle would be the place to be since they get snuggles with both parents, but apparently they just really don’t like me first thing in the morning. Once I’ve made their breakfast and run around after them for a while they start warming to me again and my hurt feelings can be put aside for a while.

As the day progresses they realise that they had it all wrong. They do like me; they just can’t stand each other. No, wait, I got that wrong too. They like me when I arbitrate in their favour, but when they’re clearly in the wrong and get a telling off they most definitely don’t like me. I only know this because, apparently, the sulky faces and screaming aren’t a big enough indicator, so they shout, “I don’t like you,” loudly enough for the neighbours to hear before throwing a toy across the room or slamming a door.

Fortunately my son starts kindy at 8.15am and I have four hours of just one child alternating between extreme love for me and epic tantrums over minor things. At pick up time I have a whole nanosecond of my kids being together again to enjoy before the fighting starts.

And people wonder why I’m looking so haggard these days.

Once upon a time I was going to be one of those Mums who didn’t let her children watch too much TV. Bwahahahahaha. I laugh at my naivete. I should really use the time that they’re glued to the idiot box to do something useful around the house but, stuff that, I need a break because soon it’s going to be Witching Hour when my children turn totally and utterly feral. A nice cup of tea and a sit down with a book are essential for regulating my blood pressure before it skyrockets when I tell my kids it’s time to brush their teeth. Tears, tantrums and outright disobedience are the norm before we finally manage to wrestle them into their beds. It’s their Dad’s job to tell them a story, then I go in and sing to them.

I have to start with Twinkle, twinkle little star, followed by the ‘close your eyes go to sleep’ lullably before finishing off with Skinny Marinky. This would be so much more soothing if my kids would close their eyes and relax while they listen to my dulcet tones rather than singing along; Missy Moo can’t hold a tune, whilst Master four has a beautiful singing voice which is somewhat marred by the fact that he’s physically incapable of singing a song without changing the words to ‘bum’, ‘poo’ or any other toilet humour he can think of.

Finally, after reading Goodnight Me to them, it’s time for them to settle down and go to sleep. I sit in there with them because otherwise we’ll spend the next few hours ordering Missy Moo back to bed. Master Four is pretty good at settling himself. He fixes his gaze on something, goes cross-eyed and gently falls to sleep. Missy Moo, on the other hand, needs frequent gentle reminders to close her eyes and snuggle down before she finally goes into her falling asleep routine:

Close your eyes and make patterns with your hands in the air. I like to think she’s conducting an orchestra but I suspect it’s more likely that she’s trying to cast a spell on me.
Sit up and demand to go to the toilet.
Return to bed for more frequent reminders to close her eyes and snuggle down.
Ask for a drink of water
Close eyes and wriggle around for a while.
Ask random questions
Start rubbing nose
Request tissue to blow nose
Blow nose
Lie back down and close eyes
Pick nose
Yawn (this is the moment I’m waiting for because it generally means sleep is imminent)
Turn onto her side with head lying on hands.
Open one eye to see if I’m still there. Repeat several times.
Gently drift off to sleep.

This is the moment I love. The moment I’ve been steering myself towards during all the conflict of the day. The moment when peace once more descends on my house.

I spend a few minutes looking at their sweet little faces and feel my heart swelling with love. As I walk out their room I look back at them one more time and know that I can do it all again tomorrow.

They might be 4 and 3 years old now, but when they close their eyes and go to sleep they’re my sweet little babies again.

I’ve been nominated in the Circle of Moms Top Funny Moms of 2013 and I would love your vote. You can vote every day until 13 February 2013. Ta very much xxx

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