Archive for coffee
When Coffee is Evil
Posted by: | CommentsAh, Wednesday.
I know why it’s called “Hump Day”.
Because it’s fucked.
Well, for me, anyway. It’s just full of crazy, chaotic running around, not getting much done whilst my mind is running rampant with ideas and shit. Mostly because it is programmed to think intellegently, so when it is not challenged, it goes … well, nuts with ideas ….
Today had Added Chaos as I have Chippie’s birthday tomorrow, and no idea what to get him as a present, and birthday parties (plural, because am idiot) on Saturday. Also, someone really needed to do the shopping. Grocery. General.
And party stuff on top.
I took advantage of fuckedness of day to “schedule” in a Birthday Present And Grocery Shop, Including Party Supplies between swimming lessons and Lego club at school. Would really love to not only schedule in, but have time and capacity to attend a leg wax at some point this year. Preferably before swimming lessons at 9.30 this morning.
Chippie chose the shopping centre car park to, first up, have a complete screaming tantrum, followed by escaping from my grasp and racing back to the car, located conveniently in the furthest corner from the entrance. I had a moment of Super Impressedness that he had managed to escape through the Entrance Door, which only ever allows people in, not out.
Except, of course, in the case of the Screaming, Tantrumming Toddler and his Frazzled, Barely Coping, On Edge Mother.
Yes, the door let him out. Thankfully, it also let me out.
And he screamed and screamed “I wanna stay in the car” and I was trying to remain calm and thinking, And I want you to stay in the car, as I calmly explained to him that as much as we both agree on that concept, Mummy will get into massive amounts of trouble, and there will be a complete ignorance and non-acceptance of the fact that he had begged for it, and he may very well have been safer, left in the car on his own for an hour and half than coming grocery shopping with me whilst behaving like that.
I consider stuffing him into the glove box, so he’d get his wish and I wouldn’t get into trouble, because no one would know I’d left him there, but I didn’t. Instead, I held him by the only hand I could, whist laden with shopping bags, hand bags and a sliver of my remaining sanity, up off the ground so I wouldn’t be dragging him. And getting into trouble for that.
Managed to calm him, and allow him to wander trough toy section until something caught his eye, he pulled if off the shelf and we bought it. Birthday Present Issue solved!
Grocery shopping complete with no further incident. Also, with added bonus of 2 for 1 Dare Iced coffees. Don’t mind if I do, and grabbed myself two of the double espresso version. Will be needing them today.
Enough time to get home, eat lunch, put cold items away, but dump the rest of the shopping on various benches and kitchen floor, back to school, consuming one of the earlier-purchased iced coffees, Lego Club, reading to some kids (or rather, listening to them read without falling asleep on the beanbags (aided, also, by consumption of iced coffee), home, cook, stuff faces, yell at kids, head off for guitar, remaining and final iced coffee in hand.
Had sip before leaving house.
Aaaaaahhhh, nice.
Had remembered bookes and activities to ensure Chippie suitably occupied whilst waiting for his brothers’ lessons to finish, half an hour each, during which he chose to race up and down the hall outside the lesson rooms, wearing shorts and no shoes.
And doing it very quietly, so I was happy.
Until I reached for my iced coffee, in a bid to keep self awake, and he snatched it out of my hands and greedily gulped down several mouthfuls before my slow-functioning brain could send the appropriate signals to the required body parts to remove the vessel from his hands. It was like he hadn’t had a drink for a week …
He then returned to his Racing Up And Down the Hall activity, at a speed I would never have considered possible in someone so short, and at a volume I have never head before.
Yelling, apparently, was the new Normal Voice.
And when he needed to yell ….
Also, I was now devoid of coffee … tolerance levels slowly deteriorating. Er.
Grab the coffee and run
Posted by: | CommentsLast night’s dinner – and presentation of a cat cake that looked nothing like a vagina – was lovely.
Our friend, quite possibly knowing full well we were going to acknowledge his birthday and choosing to give up resisting this onslaught, loved his cake and presents and being spoilt.
Which was nice.
And today, I managed to get quite a sizeable amount of work done, despite knowing I had completely run out of coffee. The last of the beans went into the machine last night for this morning, and the final grindings in my post lunch coffee.
Just being in a coffee free house can lead me to hyperventilae. What if I don’t make it to the coffee shop in time to get some more before I set the machine tonight????
[breathe breathe]
Thankfully, I’d had all I needed and was functioning enough to drive to school to collect children, so we could detour via the coffee shop on the way home. And save the world – or my household at least – from imminent distress and disaster.
Off we go. I debate leaving all offspring in the car, but don’t. I must remember to listen to my gut. It usually tells me the right thing to do. But I had a “what will other’s think” moment and took them with me.
*sigh*
Chatting to the absolutely wonderful shop owners, who know what beans I want even better than I do, as they admire my adoring children, I am distracted by a gasp from Mrs Coffee Shop Owner and a strange sound behind me.
Yes, my 8 year old, whom has spent a fair amount of his life frequenting this shop, did something that left me stunned.
He had lifted the catch on one of the coffee bean chutes, causing a cascade of unroasted beans to pile up on the floor.
I was stunned. Aside from him knowing he is not to go near these coffee bean shafts, let alone lift the flap on one, I have no idea what motivated him to do so.
I was left speechless. Thank goodness he apologised, because I was unable to form words. Other than “what the FUCK?!” but I didn’t think that was appropriate in the aforementioned company.
They were also very good about it, and equally as stunned as I.
We’d just sorted out the problem when Monkey Boy knelt down to speak to Chippie. Chippie of the Anxious Around People, Not Liker of Anyone Other Than Immediate Family, Avoider of Acknowledging Anyone, Screamer In Terror When Spoken To By Others.. yes, we have a few issues with him and acknowledging people. We’re working on it.
Just like Monkey Boy decided to work on it.
“See that,” he tells Chippie, pointing to the small mound (approximatley $120 worth) of spilt coffee beans. “That’s naughty. Don’t do that. If you do, that man will bite you!”
I must make it clear that anyone saying shit like this to kids pisses me off. I just don’t like it.
Chippie’s lip dropped. Then he burst into terrified tears.
And I was struck speechless again.
I handed over all the cash I had on my person, grabbed my two fabulously aromatic, freshly sealed bags and ran.
The kids eventually caught up to me. My main concern is that I’m not going to be allowed back in my favourite shop.
On the upside, at least now they know why I was so desparate for coffee … I hope they remember and let me back in …
Some useful mathematical equations
Posted by: | CommentsA fun night out + alcohol consumed = (over time) hangover
Four hours sleep + hangover + toddler = horrible
Tired + hungover = Daily Tasks Difficult
Large Coffee Plunger is the equivalent of Much Coffee
The circumference of the plungery thing on the large coffee plunger is greater than the circumference of the opening of MUG.
When includindg tiredness and hungoveredness into the equation, this imbalance does not prevent one from continuing to forcing the plunger bit into MUG. Repeatedly.
Tired + hungover + repeatedly trying to stuff plunger in MUG = Confusion
Toddler Yell + Extreme Stress Over Plunger Not Working = Potential Traumatic Situation
The Realisation that you’re an idiot is less than or equal to you feeling like a complete Knob Head
Realisation + Action = MUG Of Coffee
The increase in number of milliletres of an appropriately prepared MUG of coffee consumed correlates directly to the increase in a real mums relative functionability.
Just saying.
Don’t you hate it when
Posted by: | CommentsHere I am, “just checking my emails, I’ll be there in a minute” and constantly being interrupted by various others in the house.
The most annoying is the “are you coming to make me breakfast” by the biggest one, who has already eaten breakfast. Once I (stupidly, in hindsight) whipped up some poached eggs and ham on toast, with grilled tomato and a nice lemon pepper spinach thing.
It was yum.
Now he expects me to make it more often. Which is not usually a problem as that is my favourite breakfast and not his.
So, I hated that bit.
And then I started on the eggs and the tomato and had to deal with a Chippie Hurt Himself thing and have some more coffee and toast the bread and then it was the sauteeing of the spinach in olive oil and lemon pepper and time to eat it.
Yummo!
Especially the lemon pepper spinach thing as I really had a taste for it.
Don’ t you ate it when you get a taste for something and it’s not right?
I know last time I did it I put to much lemon pepper in. Well, technically, it fell in all by itself, with no control by me. I think tha’s why it did it, because I lost control. But anyhoo, this time I was a little more light handed.
Except, it still didn’t taste right.
It wasn’t till later I realised I used Italian herbs instead of lemon pepper. That’ll do it.
Don’t you hate that?
The morning after fall-out
Posted by: | CommentsThe quite play last night was just that; Quiet, cooperative, fun play.
I had no reason to be paranoid, yet my gut was telling me to be wary. I have been mostly lucky, thus far, in relation to “the kids are quiet, they must be up to something”. It was rare that there were up to anything mischievious. Usually jsut quiet play.
One should always listen to their gut, however.
I was awoken, the third time since midnight, at 6.07am with noises from the big boys’ bedroom. Sounds of play. Not just any play, but the specific sounds of train play. The very train set-up that he had been specifically requested not to set up in that location.
That was my first lightbulb, red flag moment. Grumpykid having not have enough sleep and all that.
The second was the yelling at his younger brother, who broke into his mournful and really fucking annoying whingey cry that just pisses me off and I can’t feel even remotely sypmathetic towards his plight due to my levels of pissed offedness.
This yelling and whingy noise alerted Chippie to the fact that they were up and playing, leading him to climb out of our bed, via my face, shoving his elbow up my left nostril and his knee firmly into my twat, thunder down the hall, attempt to enter the bedroom and end up in a head-bashing, screaming mess on the floor, due to his wanting to play with trains.
And there we are, a good 23 minutes before I ideally like them to be out of bed, me barely able to open my eyes and already I’m yelling at them to shut up/behave/play nice, and, finally “right, pack the frigging trains up and this is why you were told not to set it up in your room in the first place!”
*sigh*
You know it’s gonna be a great day when you start it off by yelling, before the coffee machine has started working it’s magic…
Of words and wisdom
Posted by: | CommentsQuite frankly peeved with Monkey Boy’s smartarsey behaviour this week, particularly in relation to his school work (some of which was sent home for me to look at) I inadvertently became Bitch Mother From Hell.
It’s not my fault! They made me!
To be fair, the spelling he’d been bringing home to do, whilst age appropriate, was doable for him. Maybe not easy, but certainly not ‘challenging’ and this last lot, I actually think he using his wiles, quite appropriately. According to his good self.
For me, I kinda felt including the word “build” and then variations of was a bit sneaky. By “variations of” I mean builds, builder and builders. He’d done the same with two other words. Given the list is ten words, I’m working with “smart arse” and “not trying very hard”.
In light of discussions with teacher and various others, I took the cause into my own hands, told his teacher I felt this was inadquate and was it ok if I added a few harder words to the list.
As it turns out, we’re lying in bed at 6.37 this morning and I’m getting him to spell a few extra words, all of which included the “blend” ui (this apparently means all the words have the letters U and I in them, consecutively. Ye, I had to ask, too.)
So we – by which I mean “I” – added the word disguise, because this was apparently on the list just after build, builds, builder, builders and even building. Which made me think of “distinguish” and then “extinguish”.
Not satisfied with this, because he did them all relatively easily, I needed another that my mind could cope with in it’s pre-caffeinated and woken-before-ready state.
Exsanguinate!
That’ll do it.
I mean, it’s not like he hasn’t heard it before. Fairly sure he’s been threatened with exsanguination if he didn’t do his bloody spelling homework without whinging.
He got it, too.
Lay in bed with mixed feelings; very proud and impressed he had spelt the word with little trouble, sad and envious that he could spell it without the aid of caffeine and at such an early hour.
*sigh*
I wish I could do that.
Heart pounding moments
Posted by: | CommentsOf course, the day only got better, after the toilet seat excitement, when I went to access my chocolate coated coffee beans and discovered them gone.
Flashbacks to the morning, and recall images of Chippie sitting on the hallway floor, stuffing container (Tupperware of course) of choc coffee beans in the lunchbox compartment of Godzilla’s school bag.
Memory a complete blank after that moment, until this particular one. Consider fact the school have not yet called me to discuss appropriateness of lunchbox contents a good thing.
Consider likelihood that Godzilla has eaten them all himself – high.
Consider likelihood of him having handed them around to class mates – also high.
Entertain thoughts of teachers confiscating said contraband and eating them themselves, and subsequently restrain self from enrolling children in another school.
Wander around house in vague daze before venturing up to school to retreive children and shuffle off to swimming lessons before heading off to get Chippie from day care.
That horrendous task completed, we head home and I accidentally locate coffee beans container in the kids drinkware cupboard. Along with full cup complete with sipper-style lid, which Chippie promptly helps himself to.
Unsure how long it’s been there, I almost care. The fact that I was choc coffee beanless prevented me from caring too much.
If only chocolate could fix it …
Posted by: | CommentsAh, Easter Sunday, where I am up at some stupid hour starting with the figure 4, getting caught by the six year old as I’m trying excruciatingly hard not to make any noise (damn floorboards!) and attempting to hide behind a door.
Wander out into dark, as even the sun is not stupid enough to have made an appearance at such a stupid hour, only to have the sensor light, the one that only senses you if you’re a cat and not a human being attempting to hang washing out at 11.13pm or play Easter Bunny at Stupid O’Clock, chooses this moment to brighten the entire planet.
Still, I manage to perform the intricate task of hiding smallish chocolate eggs around the backyard so they’re not too easy to find, but also not too hard as to result in tantrummy meltdowns due to inadequate chocolate egg supply.
Lament the fact that this particular job is relegated to me, recall incidents of years past where Grumpy Pants took on the task and just piled them up in the middle of the decking, then lament fact that I have a congenital defect that requires I do ‘fun’ things for the kids. I.e. Easter Egg hunts.
Hide the first pack. Spread the second pack over back lawn and stumble way back to bed. Am extremely disheartened when discover six year old has wandered outside, then climbed into bed with us, cold, and my coffee machine didn’t go off as scheduled.
Eventually allow for hunting, Chippie eating an entire egg, including wrapper, pre 6.20am, poking the beanies that kept falling out back in the partially consumed egg them wiping his filthy face on the crotch of my pyjamas.
Godzilla, the sweet tooth, managed to consume approximately 8 kilo of chocoalte prior to breakfast and without anyone seeing. Considered sending in application on his behalf for role of Easter Bunny due to convincingness of his bounce and apparent endless hyperactivity.
Realise with great dismay we have guests coming over, I have neglected to purchase any Eastery type gifts for them. Nor do I have anything edible to serve them. After touring neighbourhood and web for openness of supermarkets, discover am forced to endure the exorbident prices of local “supermarket” for provisions.
Also purchase essential items for production of rocky road to package nicely and present as gifts to guests. The only Easter “eggs” they had remaining were a) rabbits and b) crap. And cost somewhere in the vicinity of $600.
Take kids with me in hope it will burn off some energy.
Clearly am an idiot.
Utilise a somehow forgotten, but very good quality chocolate, rabbit from a previous Easter in rocky road preparation, convincing self it will make it more Eastery. And that the ‘best before’ date couldn’t be seen.
Forced to stuff a third of a packet of marshmallows in mouth in the process as the kids were being somewhat overactive and obnoxious, so refused to allow them any and had to make a decent point. Also, there were that many left over that wouldn’t fit in the container, and it is a well known fact that any bits of anything that don’t fit in must be eaten.
Also couldn’t find another suitable container as it appears remainder of household incapable of putting things away where they belong.
Managed to muck up the rocky road, which I feel is a feat in itself as it already looks like mish mash and fairly hard to fuck up. Still, I managed it and blame it on early morning, lack of effective coffee machine operation in time of great need and near choking on marshmallows. That, however, did get me some minutes of peace and acceptable behaviour.
Fucked up rocky road in fridge to set so I could chop it up and wrap it beautifully in cellophane when guests arrive and hide yet more chocolate in the back yard and Chippie eats more red foil and chocolate, then attempts to dehair cat by grabbing it with choc-coated hands and comes up resembling a miniature yeti, having literally dehaired the cat and successfully sticking fur to self.
Guests depart, I unsuccessfully rummage in fridge to find wine and discover fucked up rocky road.
And goodnight to all …
Posted by: | CommentsAfter that tiring day, kids all in bed, craziness abated for the moment … but worse was to come.
There I was, tidying up and putting a few things away when Grumpy informs me he has to work tomorrow morning.
That is, at the time he usually takes Chippie to swimming lessons, and allows me a few hours of quite time in which to get some work done.
This means, I will be required to perform Toddler Swimming Lesson Duty.
For those oblivious to this situation, it means I will be required to don my bathers and get into the pool with said toddler.
My legs haven’t seen daylight, or a wax, for some time now. Long enough for them to be considered horrendous on both counts.
Whilst mildly seething and getting my head around the situation – because things are as they are and it’s no one’s fault and just because it pisses me off at the moment doesn’t mean I can’t deal with it – my three month old coffee plunger decides to take this moment to conduct a perfect suicidal plunge from the shelf above my head, collecting itself on the bench and shattering all over the floor.
(I almost followed)
Perhaps in anticpiation of … or in repsonse to it’s current workload.
Bastard!
Disaster
Posted by: | CommentsCup Day .. and we have planned the day, a family trip to the beach for fish and chips.
Of course, it doens’t start well … my newish coffee machine, designed for idiots and sleep deprived mothers, whereby it beeps annoyingly and refuses to work when some element of it hasn’t been inserted properly is not as idiot or sleep deprived mother-proof as I’d like.
I get up to the delicious smell of coffee, which is emanating from a largish puddle on the bench in front of the coffee machine and a much larger puddle on the floor.
Which happens when you don’t put the pot in the machine, and the machine not only neglects to tell you that the pot isn’t there by beeping incessantly and annoyingly, but also continues to function despite being potless.
Thankfully, new stainless steel kettle, courtesy of 10th wedding anniversary yesterday, prevents me from kneeling on the floor and licking the coffee up.
It was desperate times.
Of course, the toaster I purchased was chrome, not stainless, so am required to return it to exchange for matching appliance. And today is public holiday, thus stores are closed. Am forced to sip freshly made plunger coffee (a poor second cousin to my machine, but necessarily for the persistent survival of my family members) and observe bread toasting in non matching toaster.
Meanwhile, Chippie is having a tanty because no one will let him eat the LEGO, so he placates himself by emptying they recycle bin into a pile in the middle of my office floor, along with the contents of the “sentimental items” box.
New ‘do is not so much “whispy” as, say, “messy”, but not in a Hugh Granty, perfectly styled way. More along lines of “mum with no time or concept” kind of way.
Then we leave for our day trip, forced to stop the ensuing game of I Spy after round one (Godzilla choosing “T” which is always, tree. Even when it’s not “T”), when Monkey Boy chooses “E”, Godzilla comes up elephant, allegedly seen up the tree from the previous spying and an argument develops.
At which point, am so traumatised by the mornings events that I fall asleep.
Some hours later, we miss participating in the Cup in any manner and head home.
Fuck you make me laugh (via Twitter @woogsworld)