My dearest son.

My adorable little man.

Do you have a death wish? Or are you secretly plotting to have me keel over before my time due to sleep deprivation and sheer frustration?

I understand that you don’t need to sleep. I understand that your brain is wired in some fantabulous way that means that you can function with a bees dick worth of sleep and wake bouncing off the walls.

Yeah I get that.

But Mummy can’t. Sorry about that.

So when you sleep for a couple of hours a night for 3 weeks straight Mummy gets a little cranky. Mummy doesn’t want to play Hyperdash, or endless Boo-draws-a-random-shape-in-the-air-and-Mummy-has-to-guess-what-it-is-or-Boo-has-a -freaking-meltdown games. Or listen to Spongebob Squarepants, The Sweet Escape, Bohemian Rhapsody, Shrek 12 Days of Christmas and a hundred freaking episodes of Homestar Runner on loop. All. At. The. Same. Time.

All day and night.

Sometimes Mummy likes to rest. Sometimes Mummy sits on the couch with her eyes shut. But Mummy never likes to be greeted with a poke in the eye or a yell in the ear of ‘Wake up I hungry’.

A gentle shake on the shoulder or a kiss would be preferable.

When Mummy is sleeping it is not a good idea to:

  • Smear your poo or toothpaste on the walls, floors, toys, lounge suite or bunny.
  • Empty the contents of the pantry on the kitchen benches to make a shop.
  • Write on the walls. With mustard.
  • Call random numbers you hear on the radio or the TV. Especially the ones that talk about getting a better erection or those chicks that want to talk to you noooow.
  • Wake Mummy by the aforementioned means or with a Teletubbie inches from her face while chanting ‘Kill Kill Kill’

Or any of the crazy arsed unusual things that you find amusing and entertaining.

If it usually results in Mummy exclaiming ‘Oh Boo!’ it is probably not a good idea.

Especially when Mummy is dragging her arse around tired. And I tell you when I am tired.

OK, here is the deal. You sleep. Mummy gets sleep. The End.

Or I will be forced to do something you hate. Despise. That makes you run out of the vicinity screaming with the horror of it all.

I will sing.

Oh yeah buddy, I will sing loud. With smiling. And over emphasised actions. That I make up myself. That are vastly different to the Boo ordained actions that are acceptable in this household.

Or I will inform the military of your secret super nada sleeping powers. I am sure that they will be very interested……

Your choice buddy.

Love you,

Mummy

xx

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I have offered Moo cold hard CASH to watch Boo for me tonight.  I am going to bed.  At 9pm.

SQUEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

Boo shouldn’t drink orange juice.  It makes him a little silly.
Today  I let him have some.

He swooned.

He drank it and said:

‘I love orange juice.  I will make a club for orange juice drinkers’

and then he made a powerpoint presentation about it.

Sigh.

Perspective.

Simple pleasures.

Beautiful Boo.

It will be OK.  You are right. All of you. He will be happy with whatever he gets on Christmas day even if the fucking cubby isn’t here.
…….and then he pissed all over the lounge.

And so did Boo.

I think…..

I slept so hard that:

I didn’t hear MPS snoring.

The doona was still tucked in when I woke.

I had an imprint of the crease in the pillowcase on my face for a freaking HOUR after I got up.

My ear was asleep.

That when the alarm went off I thought the light was on and it was sunshine coming through the window!  Through the still open blinds….. Good morning freaky neighbours!

And in my semi conscious state I flew out of bed to check on Boo and ran into the wardrobe door.

And it didn’t hurt.

And I was smiling.  And happy.  And thanking the internets for their sleep-you-little-bastard vibes.

So with a skip in my step and fabulous black knee high boots I kicked some serious arse at work.

And my biatch (AKA my boss) bought me coffee.  Cause I scared him yesterday.

Bwaaaaaa haaaaaa haaaaaaaa

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Don’t forget to vote for me as a hottie and best parenting blog *snort*.  The buttons are over there>>>>>

I am on page 4!  Whoot! 

Or he is reading my fucking blog.

Cause the bastard turned the night time shenanigans up a notch. He is now the official time keeper.

I knew that bragging last night about him staying in his room was a mistake.  I knew it would come and bite me in the arse.

I knew that Murphy hated me, that God and Allah and the Goddess were fucking with me.

But I just had to say that Boo was staying in his room.

And I was getting me some shut eye.

Last night Moo had her end of year break up.  Yeah, a Sunday night.

Fabulous idea.  IF you didn’t have to pick your kid (and a couple of ring ins) and work the next day.

So Mario-porn-star was going to pick them up.  And I was going to go to bed.  But I couldn’t sleep, cause I was terrified that he would fall asleep or forget to pick them up.

At 1am Boo woke up.  Full of freaking jumping beans.

At 1.15am he wanders out…

‘Mum!  It’s 1.15am’

‘Go back to bed Boo’

I lay in bed.  I have been up since six.

My eyes flutter…

‘Mummy!!!  It’s 1.30am!’

He is standing beside my bed.  I walk him back to his room…

Lay down.  The sound of a truck changing gears Mario-porn-star asleep beside me.  Of course he doesn’t hear a thing.

‘Hey Mummy!!!!  It’s 2.04am!’

‘Boo, it is time for sleep.  You need to stay in your room’

Boo in room, me passed out on top of the bedsheets.

‘Muuuuuuum! It’s 2.28 am!’

He is standing inches from my face.  I hold back the urge to smack him fair across the fucking room.

‘Boo back to bed.’

He has wet it.  And the bedding.  And himself.  Shit.

Strip the bed, change the doona (we have many cause he uses them as toilet paper) change his clothes, wack another nappy on him and beg him to go to sleep.

Boo room. Me somewhere in the vicinity of the bed.

‘Oooh Mummy it’s 2.45am!’

‘Boo if you don’t go to sleep right now I will hurt you and make it look like a bloody accident’

‘Can I watch Cat in the Hat?’

Yeah, I had that coming…..

I feel a hand on my face.  I am curled up at the end of the bed.

‘Hey Mummy!  It is 3am exactly!’

‘Boo are you psychic?  Are we going to win lotto?’

‘No’

‘Am I going to get any sleep tonight’

‘No’

So this continues until 6am.  When the alarm goes off.

Mario-porn-star finally gets up after much poking and punching cajoling and complains of being so tired.

I resist the urge to grab his balls in a vice grip and say ‘Yeah me too.’

Get everyone where they need to go.  3 trips freaky neighbours…. all before 9am.  And go to work.

S sees me and starts complaining he is tired.

He looks at my eyes.

I tell him to fuck off.

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

as you can tell, I am really really tired. I have been awake since 6am yesterday morning. I haven’t come to visit you all today, cause in all honesty I have nothing in my head.  I tried a couple of times and all I could come up with was ‘thanks’, good post or something equally banal.  I am going to bed NOW cause the devil spawn is asleep and who knows how long that will last…. 

❤ my lovelies.  Your comments today have made me smile. 

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.

….. 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.

That is what I wrote on the sign out book at school today.

A totally inaccurate statement that pissed me off and set me off mumbling all the way to the car, my baby holding my hand and happy to have a half day off school.

Today was a public holiday in Victoria. But because we live in the ‘country’ some places have the day off, others don’t.

DH and I had the day off work, but the kids had school. Boo’s school had a Melbourne Cup themed day with races and fashions on the field after an early lunch.

But Boo only had aiding till 12.30pm. And Boo doesn’t cope with me being his ‘aide’ cause it is too confusing for him. At school C (his aide) and P (the teacher) are in charge. I am the boss when the bell goes.

It has taken a year to get him to understand this. ‘Cause the kid needs firm rules.

So today, while all the races were on, the kids wandering around school with any freak job able to just walk in the school grounds unchallenged, Boo was expected to fend for himself.

The child that eats dirt and half chewed apples off the ground and ROCKS for fucks sake and has a penchant for wandering off alone was expected to just sit quietly and understand what to do.

And all of a sudden develop the ability to know not to wander off with a stranger that offers him food.

So there I am at the office filling out the sign out book and the Vice Principal walks out. He looks pissed. Well I am more fucking pissed.

‘So A’ I call out ‘What should I write as the reason I am taking Boo out of school this afternoon?’

He saunters over, thinking I want a friendly chat. Normally we have a good relationship but today I am pissed at him and ready to stab the new principal in the head with the pen. The new principal has decreed that if an aide is away for one day they will not be replaced.

Boo’s aide now calls me in the morning if she is too sick to come to school so I can keep Boo home. Fucking Arsehole. He is saving money and I have to take time off work….. or worse, C comes in when she should be home sick.

Again, as always, I digress.

A is standing next to me, smiling down. A is a rather attractive man, but today all I can see is his devil horns….

‘I need to write something here, and seeing he isn’t sick and doesn’t have a doctors appointment, I don’t know what to write’ I say, knowing he has no idea where this is going.

‘Oh’ his face clouds over for a moment ‘Why are you taking him home?’

‘Well, he has no aiding for this afternoon. P is judging and C is in Mr S’s room. So no supervision’

‘He will be alright won’t he’

What the FUCK!!!!! This man has been in every freaking meeting about Boo since day dot. He was there during the discussion when Boo was doing nudie runs in the halls, when he took to playing in the urinals, when he disappeared during a class with a sub teacher, when he got a 4 year old in a head lock cause he was playing ‘The Simpsons’, when he ate so many freaking ROCKS in the playground that our toilet was backed up………

‘No, A, he will not.’ I said through gritted teeth while Boo was happily laying on the floor at my feet giggling for no apparent reason.

‘Oh, well write Parental Decision then’ he shot back at me.

‘Fine.’ I muttered back and shot him one of my infamous glares, the glare that makes small children cry and Emo teenagers make a facial expression other than a scowl ‘We will talk about this later in the week’

And I helped Boo off the floor and swung around and strode out the door. Shit, I wish I had heels on today, it would have been so much more dramatic.

As I am walking out the door, A calls out

‘Have a wonderful day Kelley!’

He knows I am pissed. He knows that I am the reasonable parent. I am the parent that goes out of her way to make sure that everything is fair. I know that my boy is hard work and will do anything and everything to help the school, teachers and for Christsakes the other kids cope with Boo being there. I help out at the school and do things at home without batting an eyelid. Ask for help, I am there.

I am his dream fucking parent and he has pissed me off.

And he has known me long enough to know, you don’t piss me off. Not when it comes to my boy.

A, you better bring a spare pair of pants when I decide we are having that meeting. You will need ’em buddy.

Oh and tissues. Lots of tissues. I betcha you ain’t so pretty when you cry.

Boo is home today.

Boo is not in a good mood.

Boo is an arsehole.

Boo is now in his room contemplating WHY he shouldn’t beat up his mother.

Shit.

I am in the lounge.

I am nursing my wounds.  He only punched me a few times in the arm and head butted me.  But shit it hurt!

We were attempting to make jelly,  he was not agreeing with the amount of boiling hot water that was needed.  He tried to throw it.  I stopped him.  He took exception to that.

I am taking solace in the internet and coffee and  a family block of chocolate.

I joined NaBloPoMo,  a post a day for the month of November.  I wonder if I can manage that *snort*

nablopomo.jpg

AND I worked out HTML all by myself and put the badge on my sidebar.  The badges on the site have flash or whatever in them so can’t be supported on WordPress.  But I got around it and now I have a pretty new button!   All while listening to Boo tear his room apart in a rage and my arms burning.

So if you click on it you will go to my NaBloPoMo page.

I really truly rock you know.  I do.

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.