Archive for baby
We’ll stoop as low as necessary to get the outcome we want
Posted by: | CommentsChippie’s sencond official swimming lesson and it went almost as well as the first.
Got organised and changed. I was busting for a wee, so carried baby, towels, additional necessary paraphernalia into cubicle with me, encouraged Chippie to stand, and stay standing by hanging onto my around-my-knees bather’s bottoms.
Until mid-wee he detached himself and headed out under the toilet door.
Great. What is one obliged to do in this situation. Options, as I saw it, were to stop, wipe my bottoms up and head out after him, or continue. Given the suspect state of my pelvic floor, I went for the latter option.
Besides, there were other mums out in the change room, so I figured he was fairily safe. Although, the fact that I could also hear them pissing themselves laughing, I worried for the safety of all the other children in the change rooms as well.
Into the pool we went, where he immediately clung to me as though his life depended on it. The fact that he is teensy and can’t touch the bottom, his life probably did depend on it, but he didn’t need to cling quite so tight.
Determined to participate as best as possible, and him determined to not participate at all, I found myself sitting on a noodle, jockey fashion, and bouncing around the pool with my knees up around my ears, then singing silly songs and having to act out the accompanying actions myself.
At least this week, he didn’t cry quite so much. Possibly due to the ping pong ball, provided for practicing blowing, wedged firmly in his mouth. And I swear he put it there himself, I had nothing to do with it.
That was short lived, as the teacher freaked (about the cost of the ball coming out of his minimal wages, or a child choking to death in his class, I’m not yet sure) and pulled it out, causing a torrent of tears and we’re back to square one.
And then we’re out and heading back home … full of smiles!
(Him, not me. I was about to be full of more coffee)
Yes, that will work
Posted by: | CommentsAfter yesterday’s debacle wtih timing for the arrival of the carpenter, and his need to return again this morning, with his painter counterpart, it was suitably organised that they arrive at 8am.
Just in time to move the dishwasher back in front of the fridge as I’m about to prepare lunches for the day. And just in time for what we now refer to as “Swear O’Clock”; that period of time in the morning where you repeat the same requests numerous times and mutter for fuck’s sake under your breath quite a lot.
Of course, with a carpenter and painter there, I had to restrain myself considerably. Wouldn’t want to corrupt them or anything.
Oh, and then had more fun than yesterday, keeping Chippie away from wet paint.
On the road again
Posted by: | CommentsAfter two days in Canberra doing all the fun and exciting things we can, catching up with friends, somehow managing not to go insane due to the crying, snotty, coughing growth I now have permanently attached to my body, and repacking the bags so all the clothes requiring washing are located in the one spot, we all hop back in the car and head off to the next part of our “holiday” … further north.
It was with great rejoicing that we noticed the temperature hit double figures the further we moved from Canberra.
Chippie still not well slept a majority of the journey, thankfully, and Godzilla started on the “I need to go to the toilet” thing ten minutes after a decent length stop somewhere for refuelling and meals.
The further north we went, the greater the temperature and the diminishing of child-friendly facilities, such as, oh, playgrounds and the like. We stopped for lunch in Gosford and set about locating somewhere to sit and eat, and where the kids could race around and burn of some energy. Took the turnoff to a memorial “park”, did consider the possibilty that it was going to be a pet cemetary, which would have been preferable to the vast expanse of dried up grass and lack of any sort of amenity or play equipment.
Found another park, agian, much grass, no facilities for climbing, lots of old people, and an art exhibition located where the toilets were, forcing us in all our long car tripped dishevelled state to enter the neat, clean and stylish building , complete with extremely expensive works adorning the walls, to go to the loo.
Not a place for energy packed kids who haven’t had any opportunity to run, climb or jump … except for that thing out the front that they ran to, climbed on and jumped off and turned out to be a sculpture on display. How were we to know? It looked like a lump of something! Even Monkey Boy, who hates art, can do something more artisitic and aesthetic!
After managing to relieve ourselves of bladder pressure without being asked to leave due to wearing tracksuit pants (suitable for long car trips) or the police being called, because 6 hours of travelling in a car will make you look a bit like a crim, we went on our way, attempting to explain to Godzilla that the middle of a very busy highway is not the place to stop so he can wee on a tree, and eventually made it to our terminus and accommodation for the next two days.
School excursions and rainy days
Posted by: | CommentsMake it to school, drop off cupcakes for entry into Godzilla’s class’ show day competition, swear a lot at the teacher, head over to Monkey Boy’s class room to find Chippie and find out what I’m supposed to be doing for the day.
Handed a 4 inch thick folder, complete with phone numbers, list of students I have (my own – damnit, I asked for some good ones! – his bestie and 3 others who I’ve had nothing to do with before) and a map of the Melbourne Show and vague instructions on what we’re supposed to be doing.
Placed into groups to wait for the bus. Our’s is 20 minutes late, we get to the show at 10 and just in time for it to start to rain. Before we even get into the gate, one of “my” kids starts complaining and asking why we can’t go on the rides. Then why they can’t get showbags. About 936 times in the 36 steps it takes us to get to the entrance.
Watch some pig diving, and head off on the walk around the show, with a horse lover, and animal hater and 3 boys, one of whom is still asking why we can’t get showbags, when can we go on the rides and not getting the fact that he is really beginning to piss me off.
Wander around a bit more, looking at various animals, rolling eyes at conversations involving words like “horse’s bum” and “ball sack” and “udder” – apparently an uttterly (or udderly – hahaha) hilarious phenomena.
The rain continued until we found somewhere for lunch, sat and ate, I, out of desperation, purchased a coffee that cost something like $800 (for the small) and which was utterly disgusting. Very disappointing.
And not good for the kids, one of whom thought the baby lambs were gorgeous, one still hating animals, another still asking about show bags and rides, and the other two talking about penises and other, equally uproarious things.
After threatening to lie on floor and throw a very loud, arms and legs flailing type tantrum if I was asked one more time if they could get a showbag or go on a ride, he let up for about 15 seconds before starting again.
Took them to see the chooks and other fowl. Mostly in the hope that the fowl would be louder than the kids, and quite possibly less foul, and would drain out there incessant annoyingness.
Although close, the kids still managed to be louder, one racing off here and there because the chooks/ducks/turkeys were “so cute”, another couldn’t stand them and Monkey Boy stood in front of a rather large and noisy turkey, copying it’s noise and it answering back. This kept him and bestie entertained for a few minutes, with 5th child asked if we could go on a ride now.
Thankfully, the chooks drowned out my very loud and frustrated scream, and we left, because it was nearly time to leave. And I really, seriously didn’t want to miss the bus back to school.
Half an hour till bus time and the skies, which had been dripping all days, opened up and dumped on us, just to make sure we really were wet.
Boys went feral and started wresting, in puddles and under drippy roofs, until I pulled out the mum card and told them we would walk back to the start and they could sit in the rain for half an hour while we waited for the bus. Must have done it well, because they didn’t argue (except for “I wasn’t doing anything, and can we go get a showbag now?”) and stopped immediately.
Make it back to our groups meeting spot, in time to meet the bus, only to discover it was’t ours and had to wait half an hour before ours turned up. The door on this 1950′s model, painted white so as to pretend it wasn’t really one of those yellow 1950′s busses, was too small to fit the pram in, so I let the driver manoeuver it in for me.
Made it back to school just after the bell went, ensuring I missed absolutley everything about Godzilla’s show day at school. Still bucketing down, I have to get kids, pram, bags and a term’s worth of Godzilla’s papers and artwork to the car without getting it wet.
Race off to swimming lessons, where Chippie was saturated before we even made it in the door. Thankfully, he was so tired he wasn’t interested in going in, and I did get the opportunity to change him. Including the nappy he’d been in all day, as he hadn’t been out of the pram.
Got partly changed myself, for my meeting, friend rings to say she’d been caught up and organised to pick her hubby up, take him to where she was with her kids, drop mine off, grab her and off we go.
Make it 5 minutes late, get wet racing in, get wet coming out, drop friend home, she races in to get my kids so I don’t have to get Chippie out of car. Monkey Boy can’t find shoes, Godzilla upset about something.
Eventually make it home, grabbing takeaway on the way, managing somehow to not get wet, eat, throw kids in bath, get them in bed and contemplate bath myself … discover am too tired to even be bothered.
Not a good sign.
Switch everything off, climb into bed … something I’ve forgotten but can’t remember what?
Crawl, begrudgingly, out of bed and write up note from Tooth Fairy. Read over it, can’t decipher it, fix up typos and print it off …
Stagger back to bed and …zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Mad Cow writes a very funny blog that all parents can relate to. I know that whenever I drop in to catch up I will end up in stitches (of laughter!) and head off to my day with a smile on my face. Thankfully, here is someone who tells it like it is. 
You rock, Doll.....thanks for such awe inspiring honesty and brilliant laughs.