……..I reflect on the year passed.

A Whoa Nelly Fuck-me-dead kinda year.

The year started badly. Really really badly.

And got steadily worse.

But I don’t want to dwell on it. I will just say that MPS is a lucky fucker that I didn’t stab him in the eye with a fork while he slept. Cause that woulda taken some es-plaining. ‘Sorry officer, I was eating steak in bed and I kinda slipped….oh, what’s that? You read my blog and know that I have only ever cooked steak once in my life and did it in a fit of channeling June Cleaver? Well, I was cutting the steak up for my husband, who is bleeding from the eye socket over there….. who am I kidding? Slap those handcuffs on me baby, here use mine, they match my shoes…..’

But I did a lot of running the cold tap while he was in the shower….. bwaaaa haaaa haaaa

So I will think about the coming year. The kick-arse-fan-freaking-tastic Year Of Kelley.

No resolutions. My family resolve every year to break my resolutions, bastards, so here is some for them. Entitled:

Chez Magneto Bolds 10 Commandments.

1. Thou shalt not sit on the toilet with the door open, fan off, and use all the fucking paper without replacing the roll.

And no freaking using-up-to-the-last-square-and-then-ripping-some-off-the-new-roll- so-you-don’t-have-to-replace-it shit. Or I will whip you with the toilet brush. Just after I have cleaned the toilet.

Oh, and while I’m on the subject. For all that is good on God’s green earth FLUSH! There is nothing worse than someone else’s piss splash back.

2. Thou shalt not complain that you have nothing to wear and then empty your floordrobe in the laundry, expecting The Almighty Mummy to wash it all. Including the shit that is still freaking folded. Be warned, you pull that crap and I will return it to your room. After I have farted on it.

3. Thou shalt do what I say. When I say. End of conversation. I can rain war and pestilence and no freaking phone credit or internet access on your arse.

4. Thou shalt not touch Almighty Mummy’s computer. Unless given permission. And asking me while I am half asleep or before my first bucket-o-latte does not constitute permission. I am not held responsible for anything I say during these times. Or when I am holding new shoes. I am speaking in tongues, not saying yes to you.

5. Thou shalt open freaking EYES or move shit when looking for things. Standing in the middle of the room waiting for said item to jump out at you will not work. Unless it is the back of my hand. That’ll work.

6. Thou shalt put away clothes properly. This does not mean the end of the bed or on the floor. Unless it is in your own room. Then I don’t give a shit what you do as long as said clothes do not end up back in the laundry. See Commandment #2.

7. Thou shalt not ask for money within 6 hours of saying no to the Almighty Mummy. The Almighty Mummy has a looooooong freaking memory. Any reference to elephants will end in tears. Yours. When I take away your ipods and replace your Emo music with my favourite techno. (this will be hard to enforce as we actually like the same music)

8. Thou shalt do homework before playing on the computer. Oldest infidel, you are in VCE now. You have homework every night. Yes you do. I will ring your teachers. And invite them over. And they will come cause I can be very persuasive. Infidel-that-was-born-second (cause apparently ‘middle child’ fucks up psyches or somesuch. I prefer using my own methods) you don’t get off easy. Your friends got more honours than you did last year. What the fuck? I don’t care that you got six A’s and the rest were B’s. More study for you. *snort*

9. Thou shalt not walk in the room and start talking at me when I am blogging. This really really pisses the Almighty Mummy off. You will walk in, kneel on the floor with eyes averted until your presence is acknowledged. Wear knee pads. It could be a long wait.

10. Thou shalt love everything that I cook. And then praise the Almighty Mummy for her culinary prowess, even if it is soup. From a can. That you reheated yourself. I bought the bastard and you will bow to me.

11. Thou shalt not stand in front of a full fridge and/or pantry and bitch that there is nothing to eat. I am not a fucking mind reader and the store doesn’t stock ‘I don’t know’. I asked. They don’t. Have an apple.

Yeah, yeah, that was 11. But do you really think any of them will be followed?

I would be happy with just number one. OMG would I be happy with just number 1. Of the number 1’s and 2’s. Yeah that would be good.

Happy New Year my internet lovelies. Now go forth and resolve to resolve tonight. And then pop back here and let me know what you decided to give up do to make 2008 better so I can hold you to it and tease you mercilessly when you break the resolution by 1pm on the first of January cheer you on.

Mwwwaaaa! Looking forward to spending 2008 with you.

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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…. 

Cause it so is a land. Shuddup. It is too. We have our own currency and everything…. shoes, coffee and chocoate. Just like the Inca, but with clothes and bedding and shit.

******

Boo: Get me a blanket I need to do a poo. – paper or blanket….. we know the answer.

******

Me: Harden the fuck up – to the mayonaisse that was a tad runny.

******

Workmate: I think of you whenever I put on my shoes. and they were white! *shudder*

******

Workmate: What the fuck is that in your hair? A chocolate box ribbon? Nice shoes! – work Christmas party. I tend to get a little dressed up.

******

Too: Number 3 freaky neighbours!!!!!! – as I was driving out the driveway on my third trip of the morning (total today = 8 )

******

Me: Aren’t they new feet? – in reference to person hiding in the bushes across the street.

******

Conversation between me and my boss at the work Christmas lunch:

S: Oh look a Yummy Mummy!

Me: Nah, she is so hard faced.

S: Aren’t all Mummies?

Me: What about your wife?

S: Yeah. Hard faced.

Me: What about me?

S: I am going to get hurt now aren’t I?

******

Moo: Oh pretty! Can I have one? – about the packaging of my packet of tampons

******

My dad: What is that smell?

Boo: It was ME!!!!!! – 5 minutes before the blanket request.

******

Boo: Gawd Daymn! That’s Uranus!!! – while I was wiping his arse

******

My daughters in the bathroom:

Too: So I said ‘That tastes like arse’ and she is all ‘How do you know what arse tastes like?’ and I said ‘It’s like shit and sperm and Nanna’s cooking’

Moo: What! How do you know what sperm tastes like?

*thump* that was me falling on the floor…..

******

Moo: Men are so stupid. Don’t they know that ‘fine’ means no and if you take it you better protect your testicles….. – in reference to McDonalds ad where a guy asks for the last chicken nugget.

******

Workmate: I’m so tired!

Another workmate: Have you a death wish? Don’t say that near Kelley, she is wearing some lethal heels today.

******

Phone conversation between Too and I. Me at work and girls home. 9.30am

Me: Good, you are up. Wake up your sister and have something to eat and I will call back with what I need you to do today.

Too: OK, call around 10.30. I am planning on ignoring the phone around then.

******

Picking up MPS at train station. Notice a cut on his head.

Me: What happened to you?

MPS: I got hit in the head with a broom head.

Me: You what?

MPS: I was trying to close the roller door with a broom and the head fell off and hit me in the head.

Me: Too many heads. You are making me think dirty thoughts.

******

Me: Too can you put the bins out?

Too: Which ones?

Me: The red one and the green one.

Too: Which one is the red one?

******

Got a nice cheque in the mail.

Me: Mumma’s gettin’ her some new shoes!

Moo: ‘You are not African American mum.’ turns to Too ‘she is so white bread’

******

Coming out of Safeway and notice the car tyres.

Me: Looks like Mumma aint getting new shoes. Looks like the car is gettin’ new shoes…

******

 

And for your viewing pleasure I present you with todays shoes. These are my Christmas shoes. They sparkle!

christmas-shoes.jpg

I had the office enthralled with my toe less stockings. They honestly couldn’t get their heads around the fact I was wearing stockings…. and they were toe less. And that my nailpolish matched the shoes.

This is what I have to work with people! I didn’t bother showing them the matching handbag, lest their heads explode.

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!!!!

Today we went out to lunch.

At a restaurant that didn’t ask if you wanted fries with that. Well, they asked if we wanted garlic bread and if they didn’t the sign said that they would give it to us for free.

But it had cutlery and shit. So as restauranty as we Magneto Bolds get right now.

We took up a large table with all the relatives left over from my Dads party the day before.

Boo, still showing the effects of the ear infections, ulcerated throat, antibiotic overload and ripping out one of his teeth

tooth.jpg

because it was bothering him, was still in anti-Autism mode. So we took the plunge to do something normal……

He he he. Some would call me delusional….. you would be right.

Food was ordered. Gasps were heard over the prices of the steak ($30!!!!). Bodily functions were discussed.

Yes, we are White Trash.

As we were a large table, the food came out in waves. Of course Boo was last. How hard is it to serve the kid first? All he ordered was a freaking bowl of chips.

The kid was on his 2nd glass of kiddie crack lemonade when his bowl finally came out. He inhaled them he was so hungry.

‘Excuse me waiter! Hey garcon!’ my little angel bellowed complete with clicking his fingers in the general direction of the kitchen ‘More chips please!’

‘No Dude, you have had enough’ I finally spluttered after almost choking on my chicken and having to pick my Auntie off the floor where she was writhing with mirth.

‘Oh’ my dejected little connoisseur muttered.

The waitress walked past after serving another table.

‘Excuse me server!’ he bellowed again ‘I need more lemonade. Oh, and pleeeeeeaase!’

He beamed at me. Proud for using his manners.

The woman glared at him and then me and walked away.

Now this classy establishment is a place where you go to the counter, order your meal and then they bring it to the table. There is no table service.

Unless you put your feet on the table. Then you get lots of table attention. But that was our previous visit.

I took Boo up to the counter to order a lemonade. That is when I discovered that he had taken off his shoes….

and his pants.

Hmmmm.

OK, back to the table. Redressed and back to the counter. He ordered his drink and we wandered back to the table where Mario-porn-star had started the political discussion that I warned him not to before we arrived.

Warned is probably not strong enough a word. More like talk-about-the-election-and-I-will-tape-electrodes-to-your-testicles-while-you-sleep threat. My family gets rather heated when it comes to all things political. And it doesn’t help that we are on very different sides of the fence.

I glared at Mario-porn-star, he clutched his testicles and Moo turned to Too and laughed. My girls have learnt early the way to strike terror in a mans heart.

We paid the bill, lamented that it was half my grocery bill for the week and made our way home.

No tears. No tantrums. No balls in a vice.

A total success! Well for our family anyway.

We are all still full from lunch so we are having a light dinner.

And Boo is eating a stick he found in the garden. Tasty.

 

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

And Moo is rather pissed off about it!

So there I was, at work.  Everything was taken from my desk.  I rang IT support and while talking to DH I was chatting to him on IM.  That feral mum from school bugging me to use the phone while her snotty nosed kid was wiping her boogers on my nighty.  DH was telling me not to tell anyone but my desk was cleared cause I got the job as a nurse in Maternity at the hospital.

‘Wake up Mum.  It’s 7 o’clock’

My eyes flew open.  SEVEN O’CLOCK!!  My alarm didn’t go off!

I flew out of bed and looked at Too.  Her eyes were hanging out of her head.  Dark circles surrounded her enormous blue eyes.

‘What’s wrong babe?’  I enquired as I threw on some clothes.  We need to be dressed and out of the house at 7.55.

‘Boo woke up at 1am.  I sat with him cause I know how tired you are’

My heart melted.

‘He went back to sleep at 5.30.  Sorry, I fell asleep so I didn’t wake you earlier’

Isn’t she just the best kid you have EVER seen!

What makes it even more betterer is she is in pain.  Not better cause she is in pain, I am not that bad a mother, but she thought of me.

She has dermatitis on her feet.  They are bleeding it is so bad at the moment.  Because of that she is favouring one foot.  Because of that she has hurt her ankle.  Because of her ankle weakness, yesterday while doing sport she hurt her hip.  So her whole lower body is ‘caning’ but she still stayed up all night with her brother because she knew her Mummy was tired.

Oh, Too, you are a super star!

So she is home today.  She is not impressed cause she loves school (yeah!  I know!  A 14 yr old that loves school!) but she is hobbling around the place and I can’t stop smiling and hugging her.

And Moo is pissed off cause SHE wants to be the ‘golden child’.  It is her birthday on Friday, and she is trying to score extra points cause apparently that equals extra presents……