kids


watching a child fall asleep?

I am sitting on the lounge, surrounded by toys and the contents of a chest of drawers, a tower of CD’s precariously perched on the side of the TV cabinet. The laptop in front of me, my legs swung over the side, some crap on the TV, the disco ball spinning and throwing its coloured lights all over the shit and mustard stained walls.

I look over the top of my laptop and see Boo. Laying across his bed his eyes darting and closing, darting and closing, his leg hanging over the side.

He is nearly there. Nearly there.

I stop typing lest the sound disturb him.

He looks over at me.

I start typing again.

His eyes follow the patterns on the ceiling, down the walls. Yellow, blue, green, soft muted red. I remember teaching him these colours. I remember when he first showed me ‘green’, I remember his confusion and meltdown over the word ‘orange’. A food and a colour. Bastards.

His eyes close. 10pm? Really?

He fights it. His eyes fly open, close, open.

He shakes his head. But he can’t fight it. It is engulfing him. His eyes flutter. They roll. He flings his arm above his head. His jaw goes slack. They flutter again.

He sighs. That sigh of contentment. Of exhaustion. Of comfort.

He sits up suddenly. My heart in my mouth.

He rolls over. Leg now on the bed. Body and head wrapped in the blanket. Just like when I swaddled him as a baby.

It is my turn to sigh.

That beautiful, innocent face.

I wait. Wait till the rhythm of his breathing is constant.

I resist. Resist kissing that adorable face until I know he is asleep.

He is asleep. I kiss him and go to bed.

Stealing one more glance of that angelic face as I walk out the door.

***********

updated to add:

He got up an hour later and went to sleep at 4am.  Tried to recapture the warm fuzzy feeling from earlier to no avail…. 

Today I unearthed 17 boxes of Christmas decorations from the pits of hell the garage, lost a child, tried to saw the end off a Christmas tree with a butter knife stupid freaking blunt hand saw, found said child and kicked her arse gave her a stern talking to and then kicked her arse, revealed my bloggyness to a friend I can physically fondle touch, supervised the shaving off of the porn Mo, cursed Blogger a million times for changing the commenting procedures, got my first weird search engine referral,

and generally lost my freaking mind.

And all the while Boo kept repeating:

“I feel cranky and pubescent today and I dont know why! GRRRRR I am gunna take it out on people I like.”

Yeah fab.  Just the sorta thing to get me in the Christmas mood.

I woke Mario-porn-star (fucker still had the Mo goin’ on, must of slipped some Mogadon in my water last night cause I passed out before midnight and missed my opportunity to cause him a world-o-pain with the Epilady.) and promised him lovin’ if he went out RIGHT now to get a Christmas tree.  Never seen the Asshat move so fast!

Now we all remember the promise of a new coffee machine don’t we?  Yeah, so do I *snigger*

I can just bring that up when he tries to get payment now.  Bwaaaa haaa haaa!

The house smells like Christmas with the beautiful tree!

leaning-tree.jpg

Yes, I know it is on a freaking lean.  Bastard fought me all the way into the house and was lucky I didn’t kick the fucking thing down after some loose leaves (? leaves? spines?  freaking SPIKES?) fell down the back of my shirt and I thought it was a *shudder* spider and started jumping around screaming and the boy and bunny rolled their eyes.  They are still judging me.

Don’t have a photo of the bathroom tree yet.  Yes, I have a bathroom tree.  Don’t you start judging….

Decorating will happen tomorrow when the branches get a chance to settle.  And it is MY tree.  No sticky little shit-and-toothpaste-covered nor Emo oh-my-world-sucks-cause-Mum-cracked-at-me-for-being-a-thoughtless-little-biatch fingers are touching my tree.  They can do one of the other six.

Yeah six.  There you go with the judging again…..

And here is the photo you have all been waiting for…. the end of the road for Mario-porn-star.

movember-ovah.jpg

Isn’t that much better?  You can even see his cute widdle dimple in his cheek now.

Oh, I almost forgot.  The weird search engine referral?

“him in the balls”

*snort*

****************

Shit that was a hard post!  Knowing that one of my besties is reading it made it really weird.

And don’t forget to get in on the action of naming Mario-porn-star, and read the comments so far they are HILARIOUS!!!!

 

amy-sitting-up.jpg

Amy.

Yeah, I know.  But Boo looked at me, melted my heart and then decreed the bunny was to be called Amy.

Bastard.  He knows how to melt my heart.

So Amy it is.  And it suits her.  Although it is so mainstream, so middle of the road, so normal. It works.

Freaky family with a  mainstream bunneh.  I can handle that.  And she is sooooo cute!  Look she is camera shy.

amy.jpg

True, she could actually be a boy, but then she can just be a Tranny bunny.  Amy is such a Tranny name anyway.

So thankyou my lovely internets for entertaining us all with your name suggestions. They were all brilliant. I honestly couldn’t pick a favourite, although I did try and convince Boo to change it to Jemima Roadkill.  Go back to the Competition post and read all the suggestions, they are hilarious!

But if by any chance a bunny can get up the duff at 5 weeks old, I may just have a chance to use all the names………

So for those that are so inclined, here is a pretty button that I made all by myself (!!) cause Moo isn’t here and I am not speaking to her anyway, but THAT is another rant. So chuck it on your blog, tell everyone how wonderful I am and we will be square.  K?

bunneh-butn.jpg

Today I wrote a social story for Boo.

A social story is a short ‘story’ to explain social situations.

Here is today’s in response to his teacher going through 2 cans of air freshener in the last month:

Everybody farts.

People sometimes laugh when I do a loud fart. That makes me happy.

But I must not fart INSIDE.

I must only fart when I am in the bathroom or outside, alone.

I if I need to fart I need to ask to go outside.

Nobody likes to smell my farts.

I like the smell, but other people do not.

Mummy is very proud when I don’t fart inside.

 

I handed it to Boo.

He asked to go outside.

Fantastic, I think and give myself a huge pat on the back. Literally. I am freaky like that.

Boo comes back inside.

‘I can’t smell it outside. I fart inside now.’

He let one rip. I saw his little butt cheeks wobble.

No one light a match.

**************

Oh and girls I am still working on those meme’s you tagged me for. Just gotta stop falling asleep in the middle of doing them cause I am soooooo freaking BORING! Gotta come up with something juicy that I haven’t already spilled my guts about in 100 things and Wanna be my Stalker!

Mel from Freak Parade‘s post about her son shaving his butt with her razor prompted me to share that Boo has found every freaking hiding spot for my toothbrush.

Those are not hip with the happening thang. Boo likes to scrub his arse with my toothbrush. Everyone elses brushes are out on the counter in a lovely little ceramic pot that my grandfather made me. Mine? It is now…. wait… I’m not telling you. You might let it slip to Boo, cause you want my breath to smell like arse.

So these are the directions for a squeaky clean arse, according to Boo.

1. Make sure Mummy is really REALLY busy or is on the computer…

2. Enter bathroom and lock the door. QUIETLY. If Mum hears the door being locked she will come running.

3. Take a doona with you. Ensure it is one that has just been disinfected.
4. Take a freaking HUGE dump in the toilet. Ensuring to spray all sides of the toilet.

5. Unroll a couple of rolls of toilet paper. Chew up a few and throw on the roof (distraction tactics)

6. Finish doing the business and wipe arse on doona and towels and wall.

7. Bring out mums toothbrush that you found from its hiding spot.

8. With one leg resting on the side of the bath proceed to scrub arse.

9. When mum opens the door, look at her incredulously saying ‘whaaaaat??’

10. Then say ‘Oh Sorry’ like you don’t really mean it and continue with the arse scrubbing while Mummy races to the sink to scrub her mouth out and put toothbrushes on the emergency shopping list.

Kid is a bastard. An adorable, cuddly little spawn of the devil.

now that I have eaten something. But taking it very very slowly and screaming at anyone that goes near the bathroom in case I need to do a mad dash!

Party blog is updated for those following my madness.

Tonight I am concentrating on Moo’s sweet sixteen faerie party. Apparently you have to spell it like that or you are an idiot.

Thanks Moo.  And you are a biatch and I am baking laxatives in your birthday cake.

The party is over.

One more to go, but six days to recover.

Boo had a wonderful time. The kids were well behaved. A couple I wanted to strangle. A couple I want to adopt. 10 kids didn’t show, 6 had tummy bugs and their parents called to apologise –WOW – one mum went as far as popping over before the party to say J wasn’t coming but here is Boo’s present anyway……. How cool is that!

27 kids. 5 surly teenagers until the 6 month old baby came, then marshmallows in Emo garb. 4 adults. 3 conversations with the ‘ferals’ – one of them is growing a freaking BEARD! So I asked her how she liked my t-shirt. Bwaaaa haaa haaa!

Everyone but T had a good time. T is a tiny little dynamo, blindingly street smart with amazing blue eyes. She drives me nuts sometimes she is so freaking adult, but I love the kid. She was having a good time until I had to tell her off. She was on the trampoline with a boy and beating the living shit out of him.

It was a fun wrestling game that quickly got out of hand after she had eaten her body weight in unicorn turds (aka mini meringues). She was physically picking him up and body slamming him down. The boy (also T) was trying to save face cause T is half his size. But enough was enough. I ended up having to scream at T to get off him.

He’s all like ‘It didn’t hurt’,  ‘I’m OK’,  ‘I let her do it’ (so brave for a 7 year old) limping into the house trying to hide his tears. I sat T down and told her that she really shouldn’t do that cause she could get hurt one day when someone fights back.

‘Don’t worry Kelley, I can take care of myself’

Damn right she can. She scares me!

So T spent the rest of the party sulking. Refusing cake, icypoles and further turns on the trampoline. She sat out the potions class and pretended to be unimpressed with the teens ‘exploding’ experiments. Oh, it was so wife-pissed-off-at-husband-get-back-by-punishing-myself, I was stunned.  And amused.

Boo got some amazingly thoughtful gifts, adorable cards (lots of ‘you are a good friend’, ‘I love you’, ‘we are best friends’ handwritten cards *sob*) and some what-the-fuck presents.

The 2 blocks of DAIRY MILK chocolate from the woman I was lamenting having to do everything dairy free to and she gave me a fucking RECIPE. WTF?

This make your own animation thingy that plugs into the TV…. oooh it is so cool! AMAZING!

A dirty ball. You could have fucking washed it first before re-gifting dickhead. WTF

The mum that called from out the front to ask what to buy Boo….. I told her $5 in a card is perfect. She walked in the door 1 minute later, $10 in a generic card……. LMAO

Tons of artist supplies. Pens, paper, paints, sketch pads, textas, crayons, artist canvas, coloured pencils, charcoal….. Boo will be set for at least a month 🙂 BRILLIANT

The weather was perfect. A little warm but the rain held off. Thank you everyone for doing those little anti rain dances for me.

After everyone had gone and Boo had enough time to decompress, he came to me.

‘You know what Mummy?’

‘What my Boo?’

‘It was a great party’

‘Yes it was precious. Did you have a good time’

‘I did. Fun was had by all’

Yes, indeed. Everything was so worth it just to have that conversation with my Boo.

You rock Boo. Now it is 10.30pm, get the fuck to sleep.

***************

I will update the party blog with more details and photos over the next couple of days. Right now I have a hot date with a huge glass of red and a footspa.

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