Are you ready to RUUUUUMMMMBBBLLLLEEEE!!!!

(many thanks to my brother for teaching him that one)

Round one:

Mummy is in the kitchen, doing last nights dishes (that someone didn’t do today cause they were too busy scratching their arse while I was flying around the place getting ready for the parties)

Boo is in the loungeroom.

Boo puts Shannon Noll’s ‘Loud’ on continual loop on his computer while simultaneously shredding and masticating a metre long piece of packing foam.

Mummy is down for the count.

Round 1 awarded to Boo!

Round two:

Mummy is tidying Boo’s room.

Boo is on the toilet.

Boo snaps another towel rail in half. Finds the toothpaste – no prizes for guessing what he does with it.

And then he wipes his arse on the now puddled on the floor towel. My favourite towel. The lovely huge fluffy blue one.

Mummy clutches the doorway and smiles sweetly. Through clenched teeth.

Round 2 winner is Boo

Round three:

Mummy gets Boo ready for bed. Dreams of sleeping alone dance through her head. Oh the bliss, the decadence the spread-out-and-take-all-the-pillows-ness.

‘It is sleepover night tonight’

Shit.

Boo jumps into Mummy’s bed.

Mummy sighs and gets in too.

Mummy needs a bottle of red and a straw.

And the winner tonight is Boo……… Just like last night.

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 🙂

Still sick and finding it hard to remember to breathe, let alone make a blog post. Those that have sent me emails via the ‘wanna complain or send me some lovin’ button asking questions or for information, my brain is having technical difficulties and is down for maintenance. Your email has been placed in a queue and will be answered by the first available brain cell.

I have spent a productive morning staring at the TV. Might even turn it on.

Trying to reserve my energy to take the wildcat AKA Boo to a birthday party this afternoon at the local gymnastics club. He is truly freaky today cycling through the Black Eyed Peas album and generally causing mayhem. Right now I don’t care. The toothpaste is hidden and he has already done a huge dump in the toilet – smelt like corn chips and was full of black foam from the mousemat he ate on Thursday. But at least it is not on the walls…….

Right now he is teaching himself how to speak Portuguese. Okaaay. Last month he wanted to learn to speak Arabic. Would be better if he could master conversational English though.

Got some news, great news, but will wait till I am feeling a little more human before I share. Need to be able to string a few words together first.

And yeah, it’s the flu. Third time in as many months. Apparently there are several strains. I am aiming to collect them all.

Well I did say I needed to take up a hobby.

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.