I just got in the door (well technically I got in the door about 1/2 an hour ago…..) and this is what greeted me.

Peals of laughter coming from the family room.

You know that contagious, deep belly kid gaffaws that make you smile the second you hear them?

Boo is in there. The PS2, as usual, is on full volume, Taz Wanted blaring, Taz bouncing on a trampoline making a weird banging noise. The out of nowhere the sound of an elephant trumpeting (? Is that even a word?)

And Boo. Bent over laughing so hard that I am sure there are tears in his eyes.

Hitting a Teletubbie repeatedly over the head with a hammer.

Advertisements

And now add mud to the mix. Mmmmm tasty.

I actually slept all night. I awoke this morning to the dulcet tones of my Boo singing. That could only mean one thing. He is up, alone…….

And shit and toothpaste.

I lumbered out of bed to survey the damage. Boo is no where to be seen.

The singing I heard was coming from his laptop, a cunning plan. Something he recorded earlier to mess with his mummy’s brain.

I stumble into the family room. ‘Taz wanted’ is playing at full volume on the PS2 and there are muddy footprints (or at least I HOPE it is mud) all over the floor.

Boo is outside on the swing. With the gate open. He is actually wearing pants, backwards, but clothed all the same.

I shut the gate and hope to God that the neighbours haven’t had an early morning call from my boy and no one has seen me in my oversized maternity nightie covered with smiling bears. Yeah, sexy huh?! But it is comfortable after 8 years of wear.

Back inside to assess the damage.

The pantry door is open. Food is strewn all over the floor and the teletubbies take pride of place where the sauces (now lined up in colour cordinated rows on the bench) used to live. The freezer door is open and there is a bucket full of water placed in the middle of the kitchen floor. A lone piece of chalk floating on the surface.

Every toy he has ever owned is carefully placed around the family room and the toy boxes are empty.

Salt and pepper has been ground into the grooves of my dining table.

The lounge looks relatively unharmed, but the Polish news is on and Buzz Lightyear is watching it.

The bathroom! Shit and Toothpaste Batman! I dash to the bathroom, my heart racing.

The sinks are full of water. There is a fecal mural on the wall. Every towel has been removed from the cupboard and strewn all over the floor.

But no toothpaste. That’s right, I hid it before I went to bed. Phew. Pity I can’t sew his arse shut.

He has found my razor. You know those cutesy girly ones with the moisturising soap strip that you sing along with Jewel while lovingly tending to your hairy bits? Yeah, well now it is naked. Hope the moisturising strip was tasty Boo, now I am gunna have to wear pants till I can get another one.

My hairbrush is snapped in half and there is toilet paper draped over the mirrors.

Will the horror never end?

Sadly no.

I chuck some clothes on and go and check Boo outside. He is using various plates as Frisbees.

‘Play with me Mummy!’ he squeals, delighted to see me out of bed.

He is covered in mud. His innocent smile radiates under the smudges of mud all over his face (Please God let it be mud!) his pj top is splattered with what looks like tomato sauce. *sniff* yeah it’s sauce, not blood….

‘Play with me Mummy’ he repeats, handing me a plate, his huge brown eyes smiling up at me with affection.

‘Boo, Mummy needs a coffee first’ and some sort of medication.

‘OK, then we play frizbee’

I drag myself inside, head down so I don’t see the destruction waged by my tiny terrorist, make coffee and sit down to whinge at my computer.

Boo is outside again, digging in the mud. Remember last week when I was so excited about him actually touching the mud. Slap me will ya?

But at least I got a full night sleep.

Something magical happened earlier….
Boo and I were swinging on the swing outside – as you do – and having a lovely time singing and cuddling. Then Boo did the most wonderful, amazing thing. He dug his feet into the cold wet grass and got them DIRTY!!!!! Look, aren’t they the most beautiful things you have ever seen?

See him digging his toe into the hole he made? ‘Yeah, so what?’ you are wondering. ‘My kid does that all the time and then I have to wash the little bugger.’ Yeah well, this kid used to be so terrified of getting dirty, or God forbit WET, he would go into full blown meltdown at the tiniest speck!

Then my bubble was burst by Boo deciding to ‘shave’. I was sitting on the couch, wallowing, when I heard:

Moo: Oh Mum is going to be so angry!

Boo comes running out ‘I didn’t do aneeeeee thiiiiiiing’

He is covered in toothpaste and clutching a razor. Thankfully the safety cover was still on. DH had just shaved and left it out. Boo ‘shaves’ whenever he gets the chance, covering his face in toothpaste.

So I showed him my cross face, he said ‘Sorry Mummy’ and I chucked him ran the shower for him to wash all the toothpaste off.

He filled the bath and had a wonderful time splashing and singing and melting my heart.

Out he wandered an hour later all pink and wrinkly and holding a towel under his chin.

‘Put some clothes on you rudie nudie’ I chuckled

‘Oh! Could you just excuse me for a moment? ‘ he replied *boggle* WHERE did that come from?

‘Hey Daddy! Get me some clothes!’

Daddy complied and Boo dressed himself. A newly acquired skill.

And he looks fabulous with his shirt and pants on backwards 🙂

I have mentioned before about my neighbours. Here is a little highlight of the ones that acknowledge me. The others never seem to be home….. or they are hiding.

Next door right: Wave hello as driving away. He likes to rev up hotted up cars at all hours of the day or night. They got married recently and the wedding car was a ute. Noice.

Oh and I accidentally called the wife a ‘biatch’ really really loudly. See this post for the full details.

Across the road: Set up lawn chairs in their driveway whenever we have a kids party or sleepover. Lawn chairs and a table when we moved in. Always seem to need to check their letterbox, weed the garden, pick up a twig/leaf from the lawn when we are greeting or saying goodbye to visitors. Yes we have a lot of visitors. But they stay waaaaaay too long for this to be a crack house.

Next door left: Weeded his garden for 2 straight days while we were moving in. Haven’t seen him since. Heart attack while watching cable? The mail isn’t piling up so probably just scared of us. I would be.

Dear neighbours,

I feel that we haven’t had the chance to get to know each other. If this was suburban America a la every-freaking-sitcom-drama-we-see someone would have baked some muffins for us by now. We have been here for a year, you don’t have to grow the wheat and stone grind it yourself, a packet mix will suffice.

We are a noisy family. Not as noisy as SOME, but we produce our fair share. Most of the noise is screaming from our son. You know him. The kid that did all those nudie runs before we plugged the hole in the fence? Oh and the kid that laid spread eagled in your driveway, Mr Revhead, wearing nothing but a tshirt and a vacant smile. Spongebob Squarepants was the song of choice that day, in case you were wondering. Well he has Autism and that is just part and parcel of who he is. He is almost 9 so his voice should break in a couple of years so the squeal won’t be so high pitched and frighten the dogs. Something to look forward to huh?

We have some weird and wonderful equipment in our backyard. There is no need to fret about our property backing on to a childcare centre, the equipment is actually doctor approved therapy equipment for the Sponge bob singing, dirt angel in the driveway making, nudist you met earlier. Not anything to do with S&M. Honest. Oh and sorry to the kid that was playing on the platform swing when we weren’t home and left their polly pocket on the ground. It kinda slipped out of my hand and I accidentally smashed it to pieces and then it fell in the garbage bin. I am amazed how you managed to scale the kid proof fence or actually OPEN THE CHILD LOCK. Pure child genius. Tell mummy and daddy to get you tested for Mensa.

We do have quite a few visitors. Actually you are lucky we didn’t live here when our youngest was still in intensive one on one therapy! Wow, we had a shit load of visitors then! I just want to ease your worry and let you know that we don’t sell crack or wacky tobakky or GOD FORBID, Amway……

Mr Stand-in-your-driveway-smoking-all-the-day-and-night,

My daughter is a pretty girl. So are her friends. YOU are a man in his forties living with his parents. Stop. Oh and while we are on the subject, I don’t need an audience – yes I can see you behind the bushes – while I am weeding the garden. It is getting quite feral out there, so here is your warning, I will be out there again soon. You need to be somewhere else, capisce?

We are good people. A mum, dad, 2 teenage girls and a highly individual boy.

You would like us if you gave us half a chance. Lots of people do, hence the many cars coming in and out of our driveway. How about we have a BBQ some time. No pressure. Just a simple Hello Kelley when I pass you next will be affirmation enough for me.

Kindest regards,

Kelley at number X

On second thoughts I might just start with a Christmas Card in Decemeber.

Whatcha think?

I shouldn’t have hauled my bottom off my chair and saved him from a fate worse than Mama Cass earlier. I admit my main concern was my carpet, but I saved him all the same.

And what thanks do I get? Shit and toothpaste. He has added a new one to the mix, mouthwash. Two whole bottles down the drain and refilled with Diet Pepsi. And the pepsi bottle being topped up with water.

Oh and lets not forget him trying to cut up the lounge suite with a play doh knife.

And pouring left over soft drink from the weekend all over the newly polished (in a fit of domestic-ness on the weekend) stainless steel GAS cooktop.

And wiping his arse on his doona.

And the wall – yes the FREAKING wall!!!!

And forgetting to pull down his pants before he went to the toilet. While still wearing his only pair of shoes that he will deign to wear……

And making 8 ham sandwiches and leaving them in various states of crumbled-up-ness around the house.

And running into his sister while she is carrying a plate of scrambled eggs and giggling while it flies through the air screaming ‘Do it again, Do it AGAIN!!!!’

Surprisingly he didn’t put up his usual fight when I DEMANDED he to go to bed. Normally it is a 45 minute all in brawl to get him in the general vicinity of his bed, tonight it took all of 10.

Methinks this kid is playing with me. Methinks he knows when he has overstepped the line. Something I should rejoice. Apparently. He is being a naughty little boy, just like every other boy. Apparently.

Apparently it is illegal to strangle your child for being naughty. Even if they are almost as tall as you and stronger than 10 men.
But what if I just shake him a little?

Oooooooh, he is asleep. 10 minutes and he is asleep. Tiny little snore escaping from his lips. Spread eagled across the bed tangled up in the bedding. The pikachu bedhead I made him framing his tousled curls. Perfectly angelic sleeping face. I lean over and kiss his still baby-chubby cheek.

God how I love this child. All is forgiven.

At least for tonight.

Yes, you read right. Teenage Mutant TELETUBBIES. Odd little guy, my dude is……..

tmnt

click on the link and have a look at the amazing artistic talents of my wonderful guy aged 7 years old 🙂