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I have to go all Lady MacBeth on my ever expanding arse.

The chocolate in the fridge is calling me. Serenading me. Tantalizing me with its sweet chocolately goodness. It’s silky rich texture. Delicately caressing the inside of my mouth with it’s sweet velvety smoothness.

Melting slowly on my tongue as I gently suck on the squares.

Shit. Chocolate makes me horny.

What is it about chocolate that makes me swoon?

Why does it go so well with my other addiction, coffee?

Why, oh why, have the healthy eating Gods forsaken me?  Why do I have to succumb to the seductiveness of the evil cocoa bean?

And MPS knows the effect the evil bean has on me, so he ensures the fridge is full of it.

Like crack to a crack ho.  I am a cocoa ho.  I have to have my fix and it is staring at me every time I reach into the fridge for a carrot.

Oh how can I resist you….. especially the jumbo sized dark chocolate Toblerone.

*shudder of pleasure just typing that*

The After Dinner Mints

The Lindt balls in various orgasm inducing flavours

The blocks of dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white chocolate…

THE CLINKERS, OMG the CLINKERS!!!

Shit, even the freaking dark baking chocolate is whispering sweet nothings from the pantry.

Why don’t the carrots whisper to me?  The baby spinach, capsicum and sprouts?  The fruit is sitting there mute.  Not a word of lust from those fuckers.

But the chocolate?  It is calling my name.  In a dark sweet bald headed six-pack-on-top-of-his-six-pack ebony skinned guy kinda way…… and his voice is silky smooth.

*swoon*

But I have to resist you.  Oh lover, I do.

My arse is expanding.  And that is not a good thing.  My desire for you is causing me to see numbers I don’t like on the bathroom scales.  I considered throwing the scales in the street and sucumbing to your every present seduction but I must be strong.  I need to get rid of you from my life.  Even though all you have ever done is exist for my pleasure.

No back chat.  You sit there waiting, always waiting, just for me.

No mess.  You just wait for me to lick the wrapper clean.

No demands.  You just whisper your presence and I am drawn to you.  Weak at the knees, wanting you.  Needing you.

You never disappoint.  You are perfect.  Always.

Sigh.  But I need to sever all ties.

I need to escape from the grasp you have over me.

I need to cleanse myself.  Scrub myself clean.

Shit.  First I have to get rid of the chocolate scented body wash……

Out, damn’d chocolate! out, I say!

Now excuse me I have a hot date with a packet of Clinkers I am going to eat a carrot….

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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…. 

Boo is obsessed with the Potter Puppet Pals. He has taken to banging his head against any surface muttering

‘Angst, Angst, Angst’

I know how he feels.

Or he exclaims

‘What is that mysterious ticking noise? I know, its a PIPE BOMB!!’

….. and we have to go to the Post Office this afternoon.

Oh the hilarity! I better get a lot done this afternoon because I will be spending the evening in the lock up I expect….

‘No officer, that is not a bomb in my pocket’

Now he is doing the death march. Freaking Hell! Is there no end to this childs weirdness?

No, but I am thinking of handing him a hammer. THAT would make me smile.

‘Boo, Po is in the pantry, mocking me again!’

For your viewing pleasure this is the inspiration for what will either send me to jail on terrorism charges or social services to my door for duct taping my son to the wall the day before his birthday…

My kids want a pet.

We have had our fare share of pets, all of which had the novelty wear off after a day or so and I ended up being slave to them too.

The kamikaze fish, Bit and Bot, that were replaced numerous times and there predecessors hidden in the freezer.  Until one day some stupid woman was stalking a fly on the window sill with a can of flyspray….. Well lets say there were no survivors and the kids were not impressed.

The Sea Monkeys that were lovingly tended (by me) for weeks in their deluxe mansion until one day some bright spark (of the male persuasion) decided to take them outside in the sun to warm ’em up a bit and give them a change of scenery.

On a 40c day.  With a lid sporting a MAGNIFYING GLASS still on.  ZAP!  Goodbye little brine shrimp.

That was the first time I saw Too roll her eyes at her father.  She was 3.

The dog that came with the house we bought.  Basically we either took the dog or she was to be put down.  She was a lovely little thing.  Ugly as hell – Jack Russell/Chihuahua cross.  Real little lady but thought she was a boy.  Cocking her leg to pee.

We ended up having to give her away when we moved because we couldn’t find somewhere to rent that would let us keep the dog and DS.  Apparently it is easier to give away a dog……

Yollie the mouse.  Stinky horrible disgusting thing that it was.  Ewww.  My loving mother (you know the one, Mother of the freaking YEAR) bought it for Too.  Biatch.

She lasted 3 months until Too decided to take her out to the garage one hot summer day, cause the smell was even getting to HER, without water and in an enclosed plastic cage.  I can still hear the screams when she found her pet dead from the heat.  She was given a proper send off and Too wore black for a week.  It was the start of her Emo stage….

The two guinea pigs that we inherited from a ‘friend’.  Her neighbour was going to set them free in the forest so we saved them.  Ugly freaking things.  They scared the shit out of me, with their creepy red eyes and little tiny feet.  *shudder*

But guess who had to look after them?  Moi.  Unfortunately they have both since died.  The first I am unsure what happened, the second looks like it was terrorised by the neighbourhood feral cat and it tried to hide in its food bin, where I believe it suffocated.

So now we are pet-less.

I tried to talk up the value of a pet rock.  No mess, no fuss, can dress it up and put makeup on it.

‘But that is why we have a brother’

OK, fair call.

I thought a Green Tree Frog would be good.  Small, no shedding, something a bit different.

Until I found out you had to feed it live grasshoppers and get a freaking PERMIT for it.

Any moron can go and have a baby, but I need permission to keep a frog for chris-sakes!

Hermit crabs creep me out.

Snakes and spiders.  Well no.

Mice and rats.  Been there, done that, never again.

The girls want a cat.  I am not fond of cats.  I already have 4 people treating me like staff without a furry one too.

Fish.  Well just look at my track record with them….

I want a dog.  A cute little dog.  One of those spadoodle jobbies.  No shedding and cute as a button.  DS is terrified of dogs.  And no one will take him so I can fulfill my wish.

So what to do?  I need to find something that doesn’t add to the shit factor around here and doesn’t shed.  Three females with long hair have my vacuum working over time as it is.  Something to fill the gaping hole in my heart that desperately yearns for another whinging mini me.

Hmmm, you can put a nappy on a monkey….

And it would look eerily like my husband.

So what pet would you suggest?

I bring you………. *drum roll please*

a washing machine with inbuilt speakers and Ipod dock!

Oh my lord……….
The LG ipod dock also washes clothes

🙂 enjoy. Oh and if you ever win the lotto please send one my way, might get the teenagers in the laundry!

For years people have been telling me to write a book about our experiences with our special little man. But I don’t have the time, energy, or lets be brutal talent, to take on such a mammoth task so here I am.

While most people have asked me to write my sons life story or a therapy based manual, the idea of recording all the wonderful moments and hilarious antics of my boy appealed most. This amazing little boy has me in fits of laughter most days and this blog will serve to record these moments, uplift me on those down days and enable me to share our life with family and friends.

I am new to the world of blogging and will probably take a while to work this all out 🙂 I am sure that if I gave the reigns to my little man he would work it out in a heartbeat LOL!

I have decided to refer to my family in the following manner:
The honourable subject of this post, my son, will be referred to as DS (dear son), or by various nicknames – of which he has many – Dude, Dudey McDudey or Boo.
My gorgeous hormonal teenage daughters will be DD1 and DD2 (dear daughter) or B1 and B2 (rhymes with ‘witch’) as the mood strikes.
My husband and father of this motley crue will be DH (dear husband……… most of the time!)

I anticipate a flurry of posts for the first few days and then lulls. Those who know me will understand the ebbs and flows of my life and those who don’t please be patient with me. A gentle email nudge to post is all I will need 🙂

As DS would say……

“and now for the feature presentation……”

Kelley