Channeling the Zen
I am channeling my inner Zen.
I am thinking calming thoughts.
I am not stressed anymore.
My period was due today, and it isn’t here. Today is almost over.
I am conveniently ignoring the fact that my cycle can be a complete arsehole sometimes and sneak unexpected things on me (like super long cycles and super long periods and strange bleeding and cramping and… well, lets just agree that my cycle is an arsehole who likes to play with my head).
Tomorrow is CD31 and I am ready for it.
Nat’s parents are going to visit, so I am going to take the oppurtunity to let Amy show her Nanny how she goes down the slide (very fast, needs her hands holding or she eats dirt at the bottom, and trust me, it isn’t fun and it isn’t pretty) while I try to dig some of the front fenceline.
I want to plant a hedge of mint along the front fence, just because mint is lovely and it smells beautiful and it deters mice. Apparently.
And yes, I do know that mint is a weed and will spread. GOOD. I want it to spread. Along the front fence line at least. I want a pretty smelling hedgy bushy thing there and I want to be able to not worry about kids eating it.
So, digging, mint, slides, zen and no period.
Yep, that is about it from me today. Hehe.
Oh the other thing? I won’t be getting broadband. No way, no how. Apparently it is ‘too costly to repair the line for only 1 family to use’. Some arsehole on the mainland made the decision.
If you work for TELSTRA and you made the decision for me, revoke it okay? You are mucking up my blogging.
The Rules, According to Amy
1) Food that is on Mummy’s plate is twice as tasty as food that is on my plate. Even if it is the same food. Also, food tastes much better if eaten while sitting on Mummy’s lap. Preferably so that Mummy can’t eat too. Unless I share.
2) Anything that is stacked or folded, needs unstacking and unfolding RIGHT NOW. All cupboards and drawers need emptying and then sitting in.
3) The dog food is mine. So is the cat food. And that blowfly. And LOOK! SOMETHING SHINY! I’m gonna eat it now. And no, I am not spitting it out. Unless you let me spit it down your top. Or on your crotch. In public.
4) Nappyless poops shall be done on the floor, not in the potty. Don’t you know? THE POTTY IS EVIL AND WANTS TO EAT MY BUM. Don’t worry Mummy, I will clean it up. Then I will hand you the warm poop, right into your hand. No! Don’t worry Mummy, my hands are clean, look, I used a wipe to pick the poop up with. See? See?
5) The toys in the toy basket are much more fun than the toys I already pulled out onto the floor. Once the toy box is empty then I need Mummy to clean it back up for me with me.
6) I am allowed to bite the dog. The dog is not allowed to bite me back.
7) All hurts must be kissed better every time I realise that it is there. This must be repeated until I can’t see the hurts anymore. Even if I can remember having a hurts there, then it must be kissed better.
8 ) If you want a kiss, I will kiss you. Then you must be prepared to let me nom on your nose (complete with nomming noises) until I am done. Otherwise? No kisses.
9) The sugar bowl needs to be left near the edge of the bench so that I can eat sugar at my leisure. YOU WILL NOT MOVE THE SUGAR BOWL.
10) All books are mine. Your books are mine. My books are mine. You will not take them off me while I am reading them. I DON’T CARE THAT THEY ARE UPSIDE DOWN. I am reading them. Yes, all of them.
11) All shoes are mine. I need them so we can go outside. Do not tell me that I need to take your shoes off and put mine on. I am happy. YOU wear my shoes and then we will go outside.
12) Daddy’s socks are my leg warmers. Daddy shall not wear any socks if my legs are cold and need them.
13) All hot drinks are made specifically for me. What do you mean I can’t share your coffee? WHAT KIND OF CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PERSON ARE YOU?!!!
All personnel must adhere to and abide by my rules at all times. Failure to do so will result in withholding of kisses and hugs, I will also be favouring the other parent until such times as my rules are obeyed.
Thankyou.
Amy.
To My Dear Searchers
I feel it is my best interest to address some issues that my dear searchers end up here with.
I also feel it is my public duty to share what they googled with you.
Please, be assured, there is no ‘mr lady porn‘ here. I am sure that Mr Lady would be amused to hear that you were looking for her though.
Same goes for ‘talina porn‘ and ‘Laura McIntyre porn‘. Talina? Laura? Did you know people were googling for you and porn???
And why did they end up here?
[Oh wait, vibrators, jelly baby porn. Right]
Also, to address the burning question of one googler who asks ‘do kangaroos lay eggs?‘. Um NO. They do not lay eggs. They give birth to jelly baby sized joeys, which then reside in their pouch drinking milk and growing for months and months.
This person states ‘you think you’re having a shit day try being an egg‘. I am sorry you are having a shit day. I am sorry you are an egg. How about you shuffle on over to my house and I turn you into a batch of brownies? Or a sponge cake? Then you could live out the rest of your life knowing that you had satisfied a deep need in me. You could be fulfilled.
[Yeah, that would be the need for brownies and cake not the need for death and destruction of eggs]
I have been changing Amy’s nappies day in, day out for 20 months so I feel pretty confident about it. To the person who asked, ‘how to clean toddlers vagina‘, you have me worried.
Now vaginas are pretty self explanatory, especially in toddlers. Wipe from front to back and make sure there is no poop left behind. If you are REALLY worried about things, pop the toddler into a warm bath and let her splash around for a while. Instant clean.
I assume that is what you wanted to know? Little girls are all folds and stuff. Very easy. Now boys? Boys I know nothing about, except for what I learned as a kid, helping Mum change David’s nappy.
Want to hear my wisdom?
DO NOT SIT IN FRONT OF A LITTLE BOY WHILE HE IS HAVING A NAPPY CHANGE. ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE IN YOUR ONLY SET OF CLEAN SCHOOL CLOTHES.
Ahem.
‘alien abductions in 2008‘. Yes! We had our very own alien abduction here when the aliens stole my hairbrush to study my DNA. I hope that is what you were looking for. I even talked about probing a little bit.
And DUDE, seriously, someone wants to know about my ‘mouse skins‘. WOO HOO! Even though all my subscribers deserted me when I posted about the mouse skin blanket I was planning, it seems, SOMEONE STILL CARES. I haven’t managed to schwack myself a mouse yet, but when I do, you can be sure I will be evaluating it’s fur for quality purposes.
Now, I get some really really weird ones. Like ‘nurofen mice‘. Were you looking for mice that are high on Nurofen? Or asking whether Nurofen is tested on mice? Maybe you could be a little more specific. (Nurofen is a pain reliever for children and adults. I keep the liquid stuff in the house for Amy).
‘I don’t suck!‘ I could say that your husband would be disappointed in you….but I won’t.
Now this is a strange one ‘didn’t actually have sex, pregnant, negative test‘. Sweetie, if you didn’t have sex and you got a negative pregnancy test, I can be pretty certain that you aren’t pregnant. Maybe bloated or feeling funny, but not pregnant. How about you head to your doctor?
Now, would you give your toddler a ‘laptop for toddler with internet‘? No. Me either.
I also get a freaking bucket load of people looking for ‘vibrator pics‘ ‘girls with vibrators‘ ‘getting off on a vibrator pics‘. I can only imagine what they think when they are SURE they are going to get dirty porn, but instead get my two funny posts about vibrators.
The only conclusion I can draw from this? People are freaking weird man.
Chocolate, You’re Really Just A Cheap Substitute.
Dear Chocolate,
I have come to the conclusion that you are just a cheap substitute for what I crave. I don’t really crave your velvety softness, or your warmth, or your addictive properties.
I don’t care that you call to me at bedtime, after my daughter has gone to sleep. No longer do I want to taste you during the bad days. I don’t want to use you as an excuse anymore.
So chocolate, I know I will regret this terribly, but I am breaking up with you.
At the end of the day, you just don’t satisfy me like you used to. I find myself needing more and more of you to get the same feeling. At the end of the day, you provide me with a slippery slope to slide down at 2am, and while the journey feels good, the landing is never any fun.
I don’t want to need you anymore. You are constantly there, begging for attention.
I think in reality I am a savoury girl, but chocolate, you have ruined me.
At the end of the day, I would pick smoked salmon over you, brie over you and sushi over you. Harsh words I know, but very true.
I write this tonight, because I know there is no way you can sink your teeth into my addiction tonight. I am craving you badly, but I have no choice but to remain strong.
One day maybe we can have a relationship based on moderation, but not right now.
Please, I beg you, can we still be friends?
Love Veronica.
************************
I am craving chocolate badly tonight, but there is none in the house. I tried eating cookies and cream ice cream but it was an exercise in futility, leaving me feeling more empty than before.
I desparately want sushi and brie cheese and smoked salmon, all things completely unavailable to me out here in the middle of grasslands and the day before payday.
I think it is stress.
While I said that we didn’t try this month, despite knowing when I was ovulating, I find that I didn’t really know when I was ovulating. I was relying on egg white cervical mucus to let me and then suddenly I had EWCM that lasted for 10 days. Very annoying. Makes me doubt my own body. So, we tried. And then tried. And then there was spotting exactly a week after we had sex. Exactly.
And so, my period is due on Friday if I have the same length cycle as last month. And I am waiting. I hate waiting.
So while I wait, I crave food that I can’t get. Scallops and smoked salmon and sushi and brie. All things that I have as treats when we can afford them. All things that we currently don’t have in the house. (All things that Amy would happily live on and makes me share, Hmmmmph)
Heh.
Poor Nathan is feeling the brunt of the stress as I alternately try to kill him (saucepans are good), tell him to get fucked or cry over nothing. Poor Nat. How does he put up with me?
I know I am reading too much into things, but this is just a brain dump. Get it out of my head, out of my system and then I can wait patiently.
Grant me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things that I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
All about the Zen, baby.
Now, ’scuse me while I go and make a sandwich.
How To….Survive Bedtime
I wrote this last night.
1- Survive Mothers Day, even though Toddler has had no nap. Survive dinner time even though Toddler has had no nap and partner is being too slow dishing up dinner to satify me and the screaming toddler.
2- Get dinner eaten (I balaced the Toddler and my plate in my lap together. Clever much?) and cleaned up. Get NO NAP Toddler into her PJ’s and a clean nappy. Hugs and Kisses all round and then….
3- 6.45pm hits and it’s BEDTIME!
4- Listen to the Toddlers sigh of relief when you tuck her in. Kiss and then leave the room. Check back in in 5 mins and discover the Toddler fast asleep. Revel in the silence and get a few things done.
~~Take a 1.5 hour break from Toddler wrangling~~
5- Decide to lay in bed and blog/watch TV mere moments before the Toddler wakes up screaming. Realise that it isn’t really the sound of your spare time running away, instead it is your brains running out of your ears.
6- Cajol, hug, cuddle, snuggle massage, rub, kiss and snuggle the Toddler in an attempt to curb the screaming. Give up and administer Nurofen. Swap turns with your partner, until screaming stops.
7- 20 minutes later the screaming has subsided into small snuffles and the Toddler has stopped crying that it ‘hursss’.
8- Snuggle sleepy Toddler and leave the room.
9- Hear the Toddler playing. Hope that she is still in bed. Have all your hopes dashed when a little head pops up over the gate and says ‘Ah Hi Mumeeee’.
10- Sigh. Audibly.
11- Pick the Toddler up and rub her back. Realise as you are rubbing that your toddler feels very snuggly. Like, skin to skin snuggly. Discover NO NAPPY on Toddlers bum.
12- Find the still clean nappy and place it back on the toddler. Console yourself that nappy removal was a complete fluke.
13- Discover that nappy removal was no fluke. Repeat steps 8 through to 12 four times.
14- Remember reading something on the internet about backwards nappies. Replace the nappy back on the toddler BACKWARDS.
15- Celebrate the lack of nappy removal. Seriously, if it was your blog that I read about backwards nappies on, let me know and I will edit this post to give you complete credit. I salute you, whoever you are.
16- Snuggle toddler into bed, only to have her sit up and tell you ‘I hungeeee’.
17- Sigh. Audibly.
18- Wish that you were still breastfeeding for the eleventy hundredth time today.
19- Heat up some left over mashed potato from dinner. Feed to Toddler. Or, in our case, hold the bowl while Toddler feeds herself. And yes, she was still in bed.
20- Resettle Toddler with big hugs and kisses. Snuggle and leave the room. Listen to her sing herself to sleep before everything goes silent.
21- Blog about it.
Dear Mummy
Dear Mummy,
I know I am a little late with this letter, but it has taken me this long to assure you that I am asleep, so I haven’t been able to get near the computer. I would appreciate it if you don’t look in on me right now though, okay?
I know you said something about it being Mothers Day today, so I have gone out of my way to be nice. I slept in until 9am this morning, just for you!
I wasn’t sure if Daddy was willing to let you stay in bed (he was) so I just figured that if I stayed in bed my very own self, it would just be easier on both of you.
It took me a few hours to grasp it, but once I realised that you wanted kisses, I took every opportunity to kiss you silly.
‘Mummee? Tiss pleas?’
MWAH!
‘Tiss now?’
MWAH!
‘I tiss’
MWAH!
I know that my kisses were sloppy, but sometimes the drool just escapes. You love me anyway, right?
I love you so much Mummy, that I didn’t want to be separated from you all day. I admire how you coped so well, even when I didn’t nap. One day you will have to show me how you cook dinner one handed. It probably helped that Daddy prepped all the vegies for you. He is a clever Daddy, I heard you say so.
Thankyou so much for teaching me how to crush garlic with the mortar and pestle. Smashing things has never been so fun and you didn’t growl at me once! I think I could become a Master Squasher. And not just of your boobs.
Which, speaking of boobs, I still miss my boobies. I am pleased that you don’t scream anymore when I thrust my freezing cold hand down your top. Sometimes I just have to make sure they are still there, you know? I wish I could still have boobies, but you have told me that there is no milk left and I believe you. Truly, I do.
Daddy thinks I am starting to swear, but I am actually saying ‘Sit!’. I’m not quite sure why it comes out as ’shit!’ though.
Everything I do and say contains and exclaimantion mark after it.
‘I sit!’
‘I Hungeeee!’
‘Dink?!’
‘Mummeeee!’
But I know you forgive me because I am just so damn cute. Your words not mine.
So anyway, to finish up (because I am getting very very sleepy here), I just wanted to say that I love you Mummy. Especially when you are busy. Especially when you need to pee.
Love, Amy.
xxx
Weekly Winners!
I know, I haven’t participated in Lotus’s Weekly Winners for a while, so here is my contribution. Also, Happy Mothers day!
Running.
The first time she fell asleep without me holding her in AGES. WOO! Not that we aren’t still having sleep issues though.
The river. I took this from the car as we drove across the bridge.
Amy wondered of she would fit in the bin. I wondered if it was wrong to contemplate throwing her out.
FINALLY! MUAHAHAHAHA.
So Many Things To Do With Blocks
Wooden building blocks have to be THE BEST toys ever. There are so many things you can do with them.
Stuck for ideas? Never fear! That’s why I am here.
1- You can stack them. (Hey, don’t you DUH me. Yes, you in the back. I heard you. Shush.) Then you can knock them over. Then you can stack them. Then you can knock tham over. FOR HOURS.
2- You can build Teddy a house. Then you can play EARTHQUAKE and knock teddys house over. (Teddy carnage cannot be shown due to the disturbing nature of the images.)
3- If you are a puppy, you can bury them. See?
4- Great for gaining an extra inch height. No, those aren’t my feet. Nathan’s feet are much prettier than mine, so he modelled for me.
5- You can spell inappropriate words. Leave messages for your partner in the kitchen. Hehe.
6- You can sit for ages while your toddler tells you what the pictures are.
‘Loooook! Doooog. Looook Mumeeee, TAT! Loooook! DOG! LOOOOOK TAT. MUMEEEEE LOOK!’
‘Yes sweetie a dog and a cat!’
7- Using a rolled newspaper, you can teach your daughter what to do when she see’s one of these. Clever girl learns fast.
Things not shown:
You can throw blocks at the dog. The dogs head goes CLONK when a block hits her. Poor puppy.
The blocks make for great booby traps at 2am when you are wandering through the house to go to the loo. A better use of blockage would be to booby trap the study where Nathan is busy playing computer. His feet are tougher than mine.
You can fill your glass of water with them. Or Mummy’s coffee. Or her bowl of soup. Really, they will bring up the level of just about any liquid substance. I like to think my daughter enjoys science. In reality, she just likes putting things in things.
You can drop them on Mummy when she is laying on the floor. Mummy’s head goes THONK when a block hits her. Then Amy runs away, shouting ‘Wun, wun, wun, JUMP!’ Yes, she does indeed know when it is smart to run.
All kinds of things blocks are good for…
I Only Just Heard
Thanks heaps to Trish from My Little Drummer Boys for posting about the Million Blogs List. If it wasn’t for her, I probably wouldn’t have heard about it for AGES.
So, thanks Trish.
What the creaters are trying to do is get One Million Blogs registered on their wiki-like site. I HIGHLY recommend heading over and getting your blog added to the list.
Schwackers - A Critique
I love the word schwacker. It just rolls off my tongue so nicely, schhhhhhhhwacker. Go on, say it out loud. You know you want to.
Schhhhhhwacker.
Anyway, since I have been running around like a mad women, desparately trying to schwack mice (mice=100 Veronica=0) I have begun to see the various pros and cons of schwackers.
Like this schwacker. This schwacker is actually a book. See? A David Eddings book to be precise. Nice and light, it has a good feel to it. Very nice weight and it makes a good SCHWACK sound when you hit something with it (say, your husband when he is giving you the shits). I am hoping that the sound would turn into more of a SCHWOMP when I actually manage to hit a mouse. Then I worry about mouse bits getting stuck to the cover…
However, with Nathan being so anti-clutter, I regularly find myself chasing mice without my handy David Eddings book.
In cases like those, anything will do as a schwacker.
Take my shoe for example. It wasn’t my first schwacker and it probably isn’t the schwacker of choice. It was the one I picked up when I hadn’t yet discovered the David Eddings book. It makes more of a THIMP sound when you schwack something with it.
I’m not sure anything that made a thimp sound would suitably stun a mouse to be honest.
Now, here we have the wooden woman model of schwacker. I grabbed her off the bench when the mice were partying in the dog food the other night.
She has a lovely curve to the back of her shoulders and I doubt very much that a mouse would be running away after being hit with this baby.
She also has wonderful handle like legs. Great for holding. When you hit her on something she makes a lovely THWACK sound.
Isn’t she pretty?
She cracks nuts too apparently. Between her legs. Trust my partner to have something like this. However I will forgive her all her sins if I can use her to kill mice. Heh.
I don’t imagine a flyswatter would be much good for schwacking mice, do you?
However, I suppose if that was all you had to hand and you wielded it hard enough and fast enough (oh, there are so many jokes I could make about now…) it *might* work.
I wouldn’t count on it to do much more than annoy the mouse. And annoyed mice are vicious mice, so make sure to sleep with your toes tucked tightly under the covers. Mice are great ones for revenge.
Just sayin’.
Also? I really wouldn’t recommend schwacking with a slice of bread. It *may* have the right shape and size, but a slice of bread is really not going to make a good schwacker. Well, unless you glue it to a piece of wood. Then it might work.
Maybe.
Now, personally, this would make a great schwacker, ESPECIALLY if you tied it to a broom handle. A little unwieldy, but practise makes perfect, right?
I can just imagine it, SHCWAP! SCHWAP! as the mouse tried to run away.
Perfect for those people who are scared of mice.
You could even get really bloodthirsty and stick thumbtacks to the paddle bit. Then no matter how softly you hit the mouse, he wouldn’t be getting away. Yup, I am a little bit evil. Shhhhhh.
A tennis racket would make a great schwacker, but please, don’t hit the mouse too hard. You don’t want mousey bits to ooze up through the holes. No, really, you don’t.
My advice? If you use a tennis racket, then make sure you don’t schwack the living daylights out of the mouse.
Yes, the idea is to kill the mouse, but not to mangle it! Sheesh! Ask yourself, do you really want to clean mouse guts out of the carpet, lino, tennis racket? Really?
However, of all the schwackers I have looked at today, this one must be the best.
It would be the biggest, hardiest schwacker that I have seen. I wants it. I needs it. I could kill 10 mice at a time with it.
Look, isn’t it beautiful?
IMAGINE HOW MANY MICE WOULD DIE IF I COERCED THEM TO SIT UNDERNEATH IT AND THEN DROPPED IT ON THEIR HEADS!
Many many mice.
Pity that I wouldn’t be able to lift it. Or get it through my doors. Or you know, even get close to dropping it on them.
Damn mice.
*****
I promise, unless the mice kidnap me tonight, I will have something other than mice and shcwackers to talk about tomorrow.
Mouse Skin Blankets
So, mice have soft fur….
…And I was thinking, since I am such a bloodthirsty killer, I could totally make a mouse skin blanket out of mice that I kill with my schwacker.
But, see, mice are dirty. So I would have to wash the skins first.
My plan?
1 - Schwack a mouse. Maybe do some reflex training so that I am actually fast enough to schwack the mouse. So far my schwacker remains completely clean of mouse blood. So does my conscience.
2 - Keep the mouse comatose, but not dead. Give mouse a bath, along with shampoo to make it nice and clean.
3 - Carefully dry the comatose mouse (maybe I need some mouse chloroform to keep it asleep?) and fluff their fur appropriately.
4 - Sharpen my very good, very sharp boning knife. Sharpen it to really really really fucking sharp.
5 - Kill mouse humanely. Maybe with a hammer blow to the head. Very quick and as the mouse is asleep (see above for mouse chloroform), very humane.
6 - Cut mouse’s head off, trying (and I guess failing) to keep blood away from the fur. Make an incision along the stomach and back legs and using the knife carefully peel the skin off.
7 - Feed left over mouse bits to the cats. Hope that this will teach the cats to catch mice so that I don’t have to do it for them.
8 - Make sure the mouse skin is clean of flesh and carefully peg it out to dry (use drawing pins). Refer to handheld manual, ‘How To Dry Mouse Skins For Use As A Blanket’ (albeit a very small blanket. More of a mouse warning sign).
9 - Make sure skin stays nice and dry for the next few weeks.
10 - Repeat x150 to get enough skins to sew together.
11 - Make sure the remaining alive mice see the mouse-skin blanket at every opportunity. Taunt them with it until they fuck off forever.
Hopefully by about mouse #5, the cats will have gotten the idea and I won’t have to schwack so many of them. (The mice, not the cats) Maybe I will even recruit the cats to hand me dead, pre-washed (read: licked) mice for me to skin for them.
Oh the possibilities…
**************
Also, I am totally sucking in the voting, so please, if you haven’t voted for me please can you? You can find the poll here. Maybe you could even get your husband, sister, best friend to vote for me.
Big shout out to Marie who posted about the voting on her blog. She is my favourite person now.
Alien Abductions?
My hairbrush is missing and the only thing I can think of is Alien Abduction.
I mean, it is entirely plausible for a shipload of Aliens to float down to earth while I am busy and abduct my hairbrush.
Right?
What definitely in no way could possibly have happened would be a Toddler Abduction. A toddler abducting my hairbrush? DON’T BE SILLY. That would NEVER HAPPEN.
No matter that the hairbrush went missing right after I brushed Amy’s hair and made her scream. Right after she looked at the hairbrush and told me it was a ‘Bad bad bad NO HURTS ME!’ naughty hairbrush implement of TORTURE AND DEATH.
No, the Aliens totally took it.
Wanna know why?
See, I have this theory. Mothers will agree with me; aliens all over the world are RIGHT NOW carrying out ‘Operation Hairbrush Removal’ from the bathrooms/bedrooms/toy boxes of sleep deprived women.
They plan to test our DNA and work out why we can cope with many nights of teething, puke, screaming, crying and NOT SLEEPING, when our hairier, stronger counterparts tend to fall apart a little bit. I think it is the sleep that gets the men in the end.
[I have to add, there are some men completely cut out for puke and sleepless nights and those men had better lock their hairbrushes up, because damn if those Aliens won't want to test their DNA too]
The only other reason I can think of for an Alien abducting my hairbrush, is that said Alien is on a mission to make all women look like haystacks. That way, their husbands won’t want to have sex with them and then, when they move onto abducting people, they won’t complain half as much about the probing.
But that is just my theory.
What do you think?
Vote for Me? PLEASE?
Dear readers,
My name is Veronica and I have a problem.
It is only a small problem and you, dear reader are completely able to solve this problem for me.
See, I entered this competition with a post of mine.
Now, I need people to vote for me.
I entered last time Top School Fundraisers had a competition too, only I didn’t have any readers that I could beg for votes then.
So please, vote for me here?
Please? It is in a handy dandy little poll box and all you have to do is click next to my name.
Click.
I will be forever grateful and humble and you look so pretty today! Honest. And there will be love. Lots of love (in a good way, not an icky way, promise. Unless you like icky….)
[A return to my regular program is scheduled for this evening, feel free to return then if you don't want to vote. Meanie]
Are The Mice Plotting?
I was sitting on the couch last night, happily blogging and writing emails and OH MY FREAKING GOD, was that just a MOUSE?? SKITTERING PAST MY FEET INTO THE KITCHEN?!
Visions of the other night rattle around in my head.
I think. I am very good at thinking. No, my brain wasn’t playing tricks on me. Yes it was a mouse and it is now IN MY KITCHEN!
Sneakily, I do my Sneaky McSneakerson thing and sneak into the kitchen, book in hand to use as a schwacker. The mouse is nowhere to be seen. I move shoes, the rubbish bin, the dog food container, nothing.
No mouse to be seen.
I sit back down, ready to finish reading and I hear it. Nibbling noises in the kitchen.
NIBBLING.
Just as I am about to get up and look, a SECOND mouse runs past. TWO MICE! IN MY KITCHEN!
I stand up.
I sneak. I can still hear the mouse nibbling. I am stealthy and silent. I am one with the floor.
I am hoping like hell I don’t step on a mouse in bare feet.
My schwacker and I slide around the corner….
And discover an empty kitchen.
AGAIN!
Fucking McFuckerton Fucker Mice Fuckers.
[Heh, I wonder if I will get googled for mice fuckers now]
Arghhhhhhh!
I can just see the mice, running laps around the house, just to watch me EXPLODE.
Mouse A. ‘Alrighty guys, I will run out there and let her see me. Once she has seen me, I will disappear back here to you and Mouse B can do it’s thing’
Mouse B. ‘What do I do again?’
(audible sigh)
Mouse A. ‘You run into the giant-space-that-is-empty, past the big-pink-thing-that-moves-and-swears and seriously, how do those things cope without FUR? I mean, really?’
‘…Anyway, past the pink-moving-thing, under the big-white-box-that-is-cold, over to the big-bag-of-mouse-heaven, grab some heavenly food, climb the tall thing and run over to the hole. Then come back here to us. We will take turns until the big-pink-thing-with-strange-fur explodes’
Mouse B. ‘Okay then, who goes first?’
[audible sigh]
(It is here that I start to suspect that Mouse B is stupid and deserves to die)
(Actually they all deserve to die)
Mouse A. ‘Any other questions?’
Mouse B. ‘Uh yes, um when do I…..’
Mouse A. ‘Any OTHER questions?’
[Mouse silence]
Mouse A. ‘Okay we will begin. Word of advice though? DO NOT ALLOW YOURSELVES TO BE SCHWACKED, SMUSHED, SQUISHED, SQUASHED, SMOOSHED, OR TRODDEN ON.’
‘Everyone clear?’
[Noises of mouse agreeing]
Mouse A. ‘Okay then! Off we go…..’
See? The mice ARE plotting. I am totally not going insane. Yet.
Little Ray of Sunshine.
I have been down lately.
Very down.
We didn’t try and conceive this month, despite me knowing when I was ovulating. We just, didn’t try. I am still grieving for the loss of hope a little.
However, not having the build up to my period will be nice. Knowing that I HAVE to stock up on tampons, rather than run out at 3am and silently curse the gods (and then curse Nathan when I realise that he no longer has a mobile phone and I can’t ring him to PICK ME UP SOME DAMN TAMPONS OR MY PMS? WILL KILL YOU AND I WON’T BE RESPONSIBLE).
Ahem.
However, I seem to have this small child who just won’t let me wallow.
See, I was all sad (again, lets just blame it on hormones and feeling grief for friends) about not trying this month and OMG a whole bunch of stuff and Amy climbed into my lap.
She started singing, ‘Mummeeeee holda babeeeeee, mummeeeeeee an babeeeeeee’ very softly as I hugged her.
Then she pulled my head down, so my cheek was against her forehead, and told me quite sternly when I tried to move ‘No! Mummeee hugss pleas.’
Then I died from the cute.
Then she does things like this -
She is OBVIOUSLY practising her regal look for when she marries a prince. Thankyou Nathan for taking this photo while I was out, getting a much needed sanity saving break. <3
This one is classic though. This was taken this evening. At 9.30pm. 1.5 hours AFTER I put Amy to bed.
Yes, those are indeed a pair of my underwear. Yes, she did indeed put them on herself. The pointing? She was asking to be placed back into bed, WHILE STILL WEARING THE UNDERWEAR.
No, I didn’t let her keep them on.
No, I have no idea why they were in her cupboard.
This afternoon when I had to resettle her, I discovered her wearing a size 000 bodysuit around her waist and 2 singlets on each leg. I think it is time I did some serious teaching of what clothes go where.
And how to put them away after you pull them out of the drawer.
I love my daughter.
