Stuff about Boo


In the car on the way home from school, Boo’s favourite song of the moment came on the radio.

“Chasing Cars” by Snow patrol

I unconsciously started singing.

Boo hates that. Shuddup. He hates EVERYONES singing, not just my off key efforts.

Boo turned to me and started singing with me.

We were harmonizing in the car.

He kept looking at me and smiling the sweetest loving smile. No yelling, no screaming, no slapping-me-round-the-head. Just singing along and smiling.

Got a bit difficult to drive for a while there. You see I, um, had something in my eye. Which was causing my vision to become blurred and water to trickle down my face.

Boo kept singing. Boo kept smiling. Boo kept looking at me like I was the most wonderful thing in the world. Even better than a mustard sandwich.

Then we got home. He ran around and opened my car door, like he always does and said:

‘Open the door, open the fucking door’

and then sunk his teeth into the door jamb.

Back to reality. But that bubble of bliss in the car was wonderful while it lasted.

And here for your viewing pleasure (DO NOT watch this with small children in the room!) the inspiration for Boo’s request to open the door. No, I don’t let him watch this sort of thing, I found him watching it this morning when he greeted me with ‘Mee-fucking-ooow’.

Oh, and while I was writing this he pulled out another tooth.  A fucking BACK tooth!  How the hell does he do it?

I gotta find this kid another hobby.  He is going to run out of teeth.

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I went to a blog today. Not a blog that I would normally frequent, but the person commented here so I wandered on over.

I remembered that I commented on a previous post and thought I would see if there was a reply.

And my comment was not there.

I know I commented. The blogger was asking for advice. I gave my opinion. In a very nice no-swearing-involved way. But perhaps not what she wanted to hear?

That has pissed me off.

If you put a question out to the blogosphere, you are asking for opinions. You will get ones that don’t necessarily align with your views.

But you suck it up.

I could be a biatch and say who this person was and their pathetic desperate attempt at more readers question. But you know who you are. I will not bother to comment on your blog again. My time is worth more than that. I have people to despise and shoes to drool over.

OK. Got that off my chest. Feel better now. Will do a proper *snort* post later.

But for your entertainment here is the lunch box that Boo has made me.

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Yes, a huge freaking storage box.

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The sandwich is ham, mustard, pepper, cheese, mayo and the lettuce from the rabbits cage. I am soooooo freaking thankful that I saw him get that lettuce. I am trying to distract him so I can chuck out the sandwich.

I am NOT eating that shit. Nup. I have done it before but not when it has rabbit spit all over it.

….. so I took him to the doctors.

As you do.

He has been having real conversations with us and trying new foods.

So I asked for an emergency appointment.

He has been obeying instructions without it been written down in a social story and laughing uncontrollably in that fabulous kid cacking themselves gaffaw.

I rang work and told them I wouldn’t be in today and maybe even next week.

New doctor.

Shit.

‘What’s the problem?’

I could have said ‘Well, he is sleeping through the night, is really happy and generally a joy to be around. Should we book the hospital bed now?’

But what I said was ‘He has a high a high pain tolerance, could you check his ears please?’

‘What makes you think he has an ear infection? Are you in pain Boo?’

Boo replied ‘Do you have erectile dysfunction? You need to call 1800 60 60 20’

The ad was on the radio in the waiting room. Oh and Boo loves his phone numbers….

‘Oh’ said the new doc ‘Okay, lets look in your ears’

The doctors eyes widened. ‘Hmmmmm’

He checked the other ear and Boo’s throat.

I walked out with a Dr’s certificate for me for work today, a script for antibiotics and a diagnosis of two severely infected ears and an ulcerated throat.

He is now happily eating a ham, mustard and salt sandwich.

This is what greeted me this morning.

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He had the stealth ninja moves goin’ on BIG TIME to do this sorta desctruction so quietly.

1st photo: After ramming the door open this is what was on the floor. His bookshelf is behind the door. Really need to go through his books! Under the door of the wardrobe is a yellow laminated schedule for school. The rest of them are ripped to shreds. And STICKERS ON THE WALL!!! Where did the stickers come from?????

2nd photo: Bedding on the floor and the blow up mattress (my bed too many nights than I care to think about) on his bed.. It makes it bouncier! The green lounge where I sit most nights waiting for him to sleep and where I write most of my insanity. You can’t see in the photo but the seat cover is ripped now. The drawers opened and emptied…

The room was freaking SPOTLESS when the little turd went to sleep.

Together this morning while I was supervising him in the bath, we sang our own version of his current obsessional song – Bohemian Rhapsody.

Boo in blue, me in red (rather appropriate doncha think!) together in black

I see a big mess in Boo’s bedroom,
No you don’t No you don’t will you do the fandango-
Thunderbolt and lightning-very very frightening mum-
Mummy angry, Mummy Angry
Mummy angry, Mummy Angry
Mummy angry, figaro-magnifico-
But Im just a poor boy and nobody loves me-
Hes just a poor boy with a trashed bedroom-
Spare him his life from this ang-ry Mummeeeeee-
Easy come easy go-,will you tidy up
Bismillah! no-,I will not clean my room-
Bismillah! I will not clean my room-clean your room!
Bismillah! I will not clean my room-clean your room!
I will not clean my room-clean your room!
I will not clean my room-clean your room!
No,no,no,no,no,no,no-
Mama mia,mama mia,mama mia clean my room-

Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me,for me,for me-

Now if we could go through life like a musical my boy would be KING! I expect he will have all the kids lined up at school teaching them this today.

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.

Just got home from work. Home early to clean up and open the windows to get rid of the smell of excrement before picking up Boo.

Got an email saying my blog looked different and ‘Aren’t you doing NaBloPoMo anymore?’

Huh?

I look at my blog (how many of you actually look at your own blogs? I hardly ever do!)

And everything on the sidebar is GONE!

And the tiny terrorist was puttin’ on the stealth Ninja moves last night.

And the widgets page was open…..

You connect the shit covered dots. Cause they are not gettin’ cleaned off the walls right now…. my blog, my baby, she is broken! And the HTML that I worked out all by my self is gone and I have to try and work the fucker out again….

So I am sitting here tearing my freaking hair out cause I cannot for the life of me remember what was on my blog in the first place and a comment comes in about a post I did aaages ago.

Hmm, methinks, what is all that about?

And it turns out that Girl, my wonderful Girl of the teach-Kelley-new-swear-words gang at Fertile Mertile has awarded me a perfect post award for Sleep. The whingy post I did about Boo not sleeping and flinging insults at the internets.

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I have no idea why she thought that was a perfect post. My fav post is Letter to my Neighbours, only because every time I see that kid next door I picture her Polly pocket….. Bwaaaa Haaaaa Haaaaa!!

But she did and she gave me an award. Thank you Girl.  I am overwhelmed.

And then I remembered. I have another blog bling given to me by Three Ring Circus.

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Yeah, I am a little late for Halloween… but treats are year round aren’t they! And she said the sweetest things about me *blush*  I have to tag others.  So consider yourself tagged.  I always share my treats with everyone!

And Lightening tagged me for the Picture Me Meme just to see my shoes *swoon* shoes…..

Will take photos of them tonight.

Oh happy day.

AND THEN the phone rings. DH has been offered ANOTHER JOB. Two companies are fighting over him now and he hasn’t even completed his IT course. The second job was offered after DH did work experience there yesterday.

So despite the blog being hacked, and the solidifying fecal murals, today is a good day!

I will be thinking of these things as I am knee deep in fairy cakes this evening readying for Moo’s birthday party tomorrow.

I hate the start of Daylight Savings.

Scratch that.  I HAAAATE Daylight Savings.

I don’t care that the extra hour of sunlight will kill the plants or fade the curtains or wake the cows early and curdle the milk.  I hate the fact that it will now take ANOTHER FUCKING HOUR for Boo to go to sleep.  His internal clock is permanently set on ‘awake’.

‘Get your feet off the wall’

Now I am lamenting that I let him play outside for that extra freaking hour – yes Daylight Savings gives an extra HOUR to play in the freaking mud – and then couldn’t be bothered giving him a shower just a wipe down (cause he has to shower in the mornings due to nocturnal mictruition) and now I have foot prints on the walls.

‘Put it down’

As he pulls a book from under his bed.

‘Give me that car.  It’s sleep time’

Where the hell did that come from?  He didn’t have it in the bed.  I know it wasn’t there cause I had to change the sheets before he went to bed cause he used them as toilet paper five minutes before.

‘Lay down properly.  It is nearly 11.30.’

But in his little melatonin diminished brain it is only still early.  So par-tay on.

‘Get your hand out of Pikachu’s eye and GO. TO. SLEEP’

Boo has a soft Pickachu bedhead that I made him.  Over the years he has picked the stuffing out of the eyes.  And eaten it.

Interesting when you are wiping his arse and stuffing comes out.

I am so tired.  That bone tiredness that makes your brain all fuzzy and your mouth feel like the morning after a big night out.  My body is aching to go to sleep and Boo is doing the Macarena.

‘Leave my feet alone’

He is now resting his head on my feet.

‘Lay down properly Boo or so help me….’

giggle ‘Help you what Mummy?’

‘Don’t worry.  Just go to sleep!  Please, Boo, please.  Go. To.  SLEEP.

He is manically giggling.  Bouncing around the room.  I have tomorrow off work as a rec day.  Gunna waste my day that I was going to spend cleaning (oh the joys of a working mother, rec days are for deep cleaning) walking around like a zombie.  Or worse still, with Boo home.

‘Get our foot out of Pikachu’s ear!’

Oh God, someone, get this kid to sleep!

He has stopped moving.  He is still.  Is he….. asleep?  Or has he passed out from choking on some of the the Pokemon pupil?  Do I dare check?

A faint snore.

Oh.  He is asleep.  And it is only midnight.  Better hightail it outta here and jump into bed cause who knows what time he will start the all-singing-all-dancing one man show again.

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