BooYah!

Last night I had 8 hours and 20 minutes sleep. I am physically swooning at the thought of it.

That’s FIVE HUNDRED minutes sleep.

*swoon*

MPS ended up sitting with Boo for me. Got him in his bed at 9pm.

The kid was asleep by 9.15pm.

Bastard.

I asked MPS if he farted in there, therefore knocking the kid out in a stench induced coma.

MPS hypothesizes that perhaps he is just boring.

I concur.

I went to work with a bounce in my fabulous shoe’d step.

green-summer-shoes.jpg

With time enough this morning to paint my toenails a pretty shade of pink!

Now for the apologies. I have memes and awards backed up here. Gunna need some hospital grade enemas to clear them methinks. But I know there are more.

Remember the other day when I was whinging about Firefox and deleting my post? Well half of those zillions of windows I had open were memes to ‘remind’ me to do them.

So of course they are gone. *sob* GONE!

So please, if you tagged me for a meme or gave me an award in the last couple of months let me know in the comments here and I will do them, with flair and venom as is my style, and give you your linky lovin’.

Cause we all lurve our linky lovin’.

And speaking of linky lovin’ thanks to the awesome Stimey, I pink puffy heart her even before she nominated me for a Bloggie for Best Australian Blogger. Thanks Stimey, I ❤ you too!

Now off to visit all your blogs, well, those of you that comment, wink, wink, say no more. Cause over the last few days I haven’t had two brain cells to rub together and you all deserve better than that.

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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…. 

The party is over.

One more to go, but six days to recover.

Boo had a wonderful time. The kids were well behaved. A couple I wanted to strangle. A couple I want to adopt. 10 kids didn’t show, 6 had tummy bugs and their parents called to apologise –WOW – one mum went as far as popping over before the party to say J wasn’t coming but here is Boo’s present anyway……. How cool is that!

27 kids. 5 surly teenagers until the 6 month old baby came, then marshmallows in Emo garb. 4 adults. 3 conversations with the ‘ferals’ – one of them is growing a freaking BEARD! So I asked her how she liked my t-shirt. Bwaaaa haaa haaa!

Everyone but T had a good time. T is a tiny little dynamo, blindingly street smart with amazing blue eyes. She drives me nuts sometimes she is so freaking adult, but I love the kid. She was having a good time until I had to tell her off. She was on the trampoline with a boy and beating the living shit out of him.

It was a fun wrestling game that quickly got out of hand after she had eaten her body weight in unicorn turds (aka mini meringues). She was physically picking him up and body slamming him down. The boy (also T) was trying to save face cause T is half his size. But enough was enough. I ended up having to scream at T to get off him.

He’s all like ‘It didn’t hurt’,  ‘I’m OK’,  ‘I let her do it’ (so brave for a 7 year old) limping into the house trying to hide his tears. I sat T down and told her that she really shouldn’t do that cause she could get hurt one day when someone fights back.

‘Don’t worry Kelley, I can take care of myself’

Damn right she can. She scares me!

So T spent the rest of the party sulking. Refusing cake, icypoles and further turns on the trampoline. She sat out the potions class and pretended to be unimpressed with the teens ‘exploding’ experiments. Oh, it was so wife-pissed-off-at-husband-get-back-by-punishing-myself, I was stunned.  And amused.

Boo got some amazingly thoughtful gifts, adorable cards (lots of ‘you are a good friend’, ‘I love you’, ‘we are best friends’ handwritten cards *sob*) and some what-the-fuck presents.

The 2 blocks of DAIRY MILK chocolate from the woman I was lamenting having to do everything dairy free to and she gave me a fucking RECIPE. WTF?

This make your own animation thingy that plugs into the TV…. oooh it is so cool! AMAZING!

A dirty ball. You could have fucking washed it first before re-gifting dickhead. WTF

The mum that called from out the front to ask what to buy Boo….. I told her $5 in a card is perfect. She walked in the door 1 minute later, $10 in a generic card……. LMAO

Tons of artist supplies. Pens, paper, paints, sketch pads, textas, crayons, artist canvas, coloured pencils, charcoal….. Boo will be set for at least a month 🙂 BRILLIANT

The weather was perfect. A little warm but the rain held off. Thank you everyone for doing those little anti rain dances for me.

After everyone had gone and Boo had enough time to decompress, he came to me.

‘You know what Mummy?’

‘What my Boo?’

‘It was a great party’

‘Yes it was precious. Did you have a good time’

‘I did. Fun was had by all’

Yes, indeed. Everything was so worth it just to have that conversation with my Boo.

You rock Boo. Now it is 10.30pm, get the fuck to sleep.

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

I will update the party blog with more details and photos over the next couple of days. Right now I have a hot date with a huge glass of red and a footspa.

Ok, as you know I have had a rather, ahem, freaking horrible week.  I haven’t even bored you all with half of it.

Don’t go!  I won’t whinge anymore I promise!  Well at least for tonight.  And what I have to say doesn’t constitute as whinging per se…..

On Friday nights we have sleepover in the loungeroom.  His highness (aka tiny terrorist, little turd, shit-and-toothpaste-mural-artist-extrodinaire, or my loving son Boo) has decreed that Friday night is the night that Mummy bunks down on the loungeroom floor while he does cartwheels around the room, pausing momentarily to fall, nappy clad arse first, onto said bed fellows face.  Until, at the very least, 3am.

Well tonight DH is working and in my bruised and battered and broken state I cannot possibly lug the queen sized mattress from our broom closet sized bedroom down the hall to the lounge.  So we are doing the sleepover in my room.

I had plans for tonight.  I was going to make the wands for his party.  I was going to get a head start on the washing for the weekend.  I was going to do some more of my looooong overdue advocacy work and reply to some emails.  But I am in bed.

Since 7.30pm.

Every other night it takes at least an hour to get him into bed, let alone asleep, but tonight?  He is quietly lying next to me staring at the ceiling while I type (thank God for laptops!) occasionally turning to ask me a question.

‘Hey mum, what is blood for?’

‘Where do moth’s mummies live?’  There was a moth in the room earlier

‘ What are we going to play tomorrow?’

I have so much to do.  I am going to be running around like a madwoman for the next week.  I really should get out of bed and get something done.

But right now I don’t think there is anywhere else I would rather be than hanging out with my Boo, laying side by side in my bed that is so warm and cozy.  His chubby little body snuggled close to mine, humming a tune that I can’t quite catch, his hand reaching out for mine.

The soft whisper,

‘I love you Mummy’

Yes, I have heaps to do. The washing, oh so much washing. But nothing in this world is more important than cuddling with my Boo.

I am sure everyone will understand.

Undies can be worn twice can’t they?

 Before I hit publish, I need to preface this with I am tired.  Bone achingly, hold-a-pillow-over-my-face-and-scream, shitty at the world, tired. I don’t want sympathy, but if I make you smile, let me know, cause that will make me happy.  Truly it will.  I live to make you smile.

Any offense taken at this post is your sole responsibility.  I really don’t care.  Cause, I don’t know if you know, I am freaking tired.

The internet seems to be having issues with sleep. Every blog I visit seems to have some whinger banging on about ‘oh woe is me, I can’t sleep’ or ‘little precious didn’t sleep last night and now I am totally exhausted’. OK, I admit some of the whining is legitamite, sick kids and insomnia and all that, but for the most part these people are pissing me off.

I haven’t had a decent nights sleep in, lets see,

3265 days

or

78360 hours

or since the birth of Boo.

When Boo was born he stopped breathing. So for the first 18 months he had a breathing monitor strapped to his belly. Affectionately called his ‘ticker’. Little bastard slept all through the night. I spent the time listening for the alarm to go off.

Then the little shit decided that day sleeps were not needed. At 8 months old. The kid did not sleep during daylight hours (save being sick) from before he could crawl.

I used to be a sleeper. 9 or 10 hours a night was common. DH used to say that in winter I went into hibernation. It wasn’t unusual for me to crawl into bed with a hot chocolate (sometimes laced with Baileys or somesuch) when the girls went to bed at 7pm. Kids in bed at 7pm. Sigh. I am lucky if I am in bed before the next day…..

And I was a heavy sleeper. Nothing could wake me. I mean NOTHING *snigger*. Now the slightest change in breathing pattern of the child across the hall and my eyes fly open begging God, Allah, The Goddess, anyone who will listen, that Boo will stay. in. bed.

And then there are the nights when Boo turns on the stealth ninja moves and wakes without me hearing. They are the nights where I wake with a start, the intermingled aroma of shit and toothpaste vaguely registering and notice that my bedroom door is shut. Wrestle with the options. Get up now and clean up or try and ignore it for a few more precious minutes of sleep. Then I wake up fully and my heart leaps to my mouth.

Elvis could have left the building.

He could be playing in the backyard or making dirt angels in the next door neighbours driveway. Wearing nothing but a tshirt and a smile. (Ask me how I know. No don’t, just read back posts of my blog. I couldn’t be bothered. Cause I am TIRED!)

Or calling a number he saw on the television. I sprug him a while back calling to inquire about a home loan. Apparently he ordered the house beforehand.

I fly out of bed to survey the destruction. On, at best, 4 hours sleep.

So suck it up people. Have a Nanna nap. I will crochet you a rug while I am up.