Tuesday, December 1, 2009
I've used the treadmill sporadically, is that a word?, well from time to time. When I'm not using it, it collects dust, or washing, sometimes both.
In order to use the treadmill I need to attach an extension cord, plug it all in, get the safety magnet thingy from the cupboard (you attach it to the treadmill and clip it to yourself in case you fall off then the treadmill automatically stops - or when you are running and your hand accidently hits the cord and the safety clip comes off the treadmill and you slam to a halt face-planting style into the treadmill controls - yes, just another talent).
We had a new lounge delivered the other week and so I thought it was an ideal time to change the position of the treadmill so it was closer to the power point and therefore easier to use. I folded up the base so it clicked into place and pushed it into a new position. As I turned the treadmill the clip undid itself and the base slammed down and into the wall. Well, through the wall. Another talent discovered - even I didn't think I was this good.
As it fell I gasped, swore, remembered Rowdy was in the room, and looked at the damage - one gaping big hole.
Now that I'd gone to all this trouble and caused all this destruction I figured I'd better actually use it. Mr Chic saw where I'd moved the treadmill to after I'd admitted making the hole and he said 'no running on it, if you fall off the back you'll go straight through that window and it's a long way down from 2 stories up'. Oh good, I hadn't thought of that.
Maybe I'm safer just putting washing on it.
I know exactly where Crash got that from. Not pleasant seeing a mirror of your own parenting reflected back at you by your kids.
Monday, October 26, 2009
So here's how it went (and you'll have to use your imagination about the tone of the notes):
Me: Sing la la la la la
Rowdy: la la la la la
Me: Sing le le le le le
Rowdy: le le le le le
Me: Sing lu lu lu lu lu
Rowdy: lu lu lu lu lu
Me: Sing lo lo lo lo lo
Rowdy: yoghurt yoghurt yoghurt
at which point we both collapsed in fits of giggles.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Crash: "A real dog of my own".
Mr Chic: "What kind of dog?"
Crash: "A staffy"
Mr Chic: "A boy dog or a girl dog?"
Crash: "A girl dog"
Me: "What are you going to call her?"
Crash: "Ummmmmmm Puppy Dog"
Me: "Well it's a girl dog, so she needs a girls name"
Mr Chic: "What about Princess?"
Crash: "No, I'll call her Julie".
Great. Thanks Crash.
Me: "Rowdy, what are you going to ask Santa for?"
Rowdy: "Ummmmm a thingameejig toy"
Me after looking at Mr Chic blankly: "Right. You might have to show us what you mean there. What else?"
Rowdy: "Ummmmm some ice-cream!!"
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Right. "Crash, please can you bring me anything else you've got stashed away in that cupboard?". He returns with his arms full of stuff. Curry powder, tooth picks, cocoa, honey, a tin of baby corn. Yup. Go on Ready Steady Cook - make a meal out of that why don't you!
I'm presuming he was playing 'shops' with Rowdy and this was just his 'closing stock' as such. Or perhaps he was just putting away a few key things to feed him and his brother for when his mother loses the plot in the near future.
I do like having a little corner that is mine and partially toy-free finally.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
Monday, September 21, 2009
Loved this forwarded email:
I was out walking with my 4-year-old daughter. She picked up something
off of the ground and started to put it in her mouth.
I took the item away from her and I asked her not to do that.
'Why?' my daughter asked.
'Because it's been on the ground; you don't know where it's been, it's
dirty, And probably has germs,' I replied.
At this point, my daughter looked at me with total admiration and asked,
'Mum, how do you know all this stuff? You are so smart.'
I was thinking quickly and replied, 'All mums know this stuff. It's on
the Mum Test. You have to know it, or they don't let you be a Mum.'
We walked along in silence for 2 or 3 minutes, but she was evidently
pondering this new information.
'Oh.....I get it!' she beamed, 'So if you don't pass the test you have
to be the dad.'
'Exactly,' I replied with a big smile on my face.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
I looked and looked and yet I was never convinced. There was no conviction. I persisted with the search. I trawled through location after location with no result. How can this be so difficult I thought? Will I ever succeed?
And then. I saw it. I knew. It was 'the one'. I held it in my arms. I was happy. The search was done.
As I got home from work last night I told Crash "I found it!". He watched as I pulled 'the one' from it's special housing and said "Hmmmmm, not bad Mum!".
The boys watched in amazement as I pulled the fake insides out of it. "Wow! There's so much!" they said. "Now, lets put all your stuff from your old handbag into this new one Mum!".
Monday, September 14, 2009
As I drive down the street towards my work, it dawns on me that I will have to wind down my window to use my security pass to get into the carpark. What if he jumps on me, commando style from above the window?! I'm hyperventilating as I wind the window down at the speed of light and swipe my pass and wind it back up again at an equally impressive speed of light. Down the driveway and park in my spot. The spot next to me was empty so I grabbed my bags, threw the door open, leapt out and quickly shut the door. I walked carefully around the car, having decided that he must be destroyed (sorry spider lovers). There was no way I was going upstairs to sit in my office all day knowing that this beast was inhabiting my car somewhere.
I walked around the car twice. Nothing. WTF? Then I have an idea. I open the boot lid and there he is. Sitting there. Looking at me. Guns drawn. Without taking my eyes off him I reach into the boot and grab a shoe (you just never know what I've got in my car boot). I whack him with the shoe and he scurries through the boot opening and into the back seat. GARH! Not on my watch! The door on the side where he scurried could not be opened unless I wanted the imprint of a yellow pole in it, which I did not. So ever so elegantly I'm leaning into the car and pulling everything out of the backseat - shoes, matchbox cars, booster seats and then I found him. And then I smashed his head into oblivion and opened the door ever so slightly and flicked him out.
It was at this point that an old colleague pulled into the carpark and walked up to me (me with the contents of the car on the floor, wearing stillettos and with a sandshoe in my hand, hyperventilating). "Hi! How are you doing? I haven't seen you in ages!" "Well yes, I'm going really well, isn't that obvious".
Did I mention I don't like spiders?
Friday, September 11, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
- Kyle Sandilands - I don't need to explain why
- BLT's and other morons who comment on Mamamia (if you comment on MM and you're reading this, then chances are you do not fit into that category, so don't be offended)
- Julie at Westpac who continually stuffs up my pay
- Checkout Chicks that can't manage a smile
- The Transit Officer on the train on the way to Mamameetup who gave a 15 year old boy a humiliating hard time because he didn't have a ticket. Just give him a ticket and move on Woman.
- National Parks who can't be arsed sending out a reminder for a yearly pass but will happily give you a ticket when your pass expired one day prior
- Kanye West http://www.smh.com.au/news/entertainment/kanye/2009/09/14/1252780261217.html
Don't think for a minute that I've finished this list...... I've only just begun!
Why does 5 minutes in a park without a toilet create an instant reaction in Crash that he needs to do a poo?
Why do parents rooms in shopping centres only have one child toilet?
Why do boys miss the toilet when they wee?
Why has nobody invented calorie-free alcohol?
Why does PMS create an insatiable craving for chocolate?
Why does the working week have to be 5 days?
What's your why?
On oztion recently I found these pair of black work shoes in "good used condition" - the pictures looked fine, the price was cheap enough so I bought them. Last night they arrived. I opened the package and discovered the heels of the shoes were so worn on the edge that the white part of the shoe was showing. It wasn't just the bottom part of the heel which could be replaced. If I owned these shoes I would have thrown them away rather than flog them off on ebay. I was pretty annoyed.
Today, because I'm just in such a super-dooper mood, I emailed the seller and complained. She very politely asked for my bank account details and has refunded me the $7.50 I paid for them. And so she should do too. Now I just feel mean and guilty. But I had every right to say something. There was no mention of "soles of shoes are scuffed" (and that is mild to how they actually are) - nothing.
I could possibly repair these shoes but I'm not going to spend a cent on them. Another pair to throw away. The search continues....
and I have another pair of shoes arriving this week. I'll never learn.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Friday, September 4, 2009
33 years is pretty old for a bird though isn't it?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
MP3 player - I gave Mr Chic my last one so he could use it at the gym (see I can be nice sometimes) and he filled it with "his" music. I need a replacement. I do like this lego one - very cute.
Body Shop Coconut Body Butter: I love the smell of coconut and I'm yet to find something that actually does smell like coconut when it claims to. I haven't tried this one yet. Add it to your list.
Red Tony Bianco's: This is Amanda's fault for having such gorgeous shoes at the MamaMeetUp. I want them.
Please no chocolates or alcohol - they're just full of calories. Also no flowers as they just die. Vouchers to day spas and nail salons will be gratefully accepted.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Aaaaaah yes feet up and totally chillaxed!
Thursday, August 27, 2009
I loved this skit on Saturday Night Live awhile back - sending up "cougars". It cracked me up.
The Urban Dictionary has numerous definitions of "cougars":
"An older woman who frequents clubs in order to score with a much younger man. The cougar can be anyone from an overly surgically altered wind tunnel victim, to an absolute sad and bloated old horn-meister, to a real hottie or milf. Cougars are gaining in popularity -- particularly the true hotties -- as young men find not only a sexual high, but many times a chick with her shit together. "
"A 35+ year old female who is on the "hunt" for a much younger, energetic, willing-to-do-anything male. The cougar can frequently be seen in a padded bra, cleavage exposed, propped up against a swanky bar in San Francisco (or other cities) waiting, watching, calculating; gearing up to sink her claws into an innocent young and strapping buck who happens to cross her path. "Man is cougar's number one prey" "
"An attractive woman in her 30's or 40's who is on the hunt once again. She may be found in the usual hunting grounds: nightclubs, bars, beaches, etc. She will not play the usual B.S. games that women in their early twenties participate in. End state, she will be going for the kill, just like you."
Nova 96.9 have a cruise on tonight called "The Cougar Cruise" and I've been listening to the radio each day as they interview prospective "cougars" for this cruise. The main point being to ask the women "how low would they go", ie, what's the youngest age that the guy will be that they'd sleep with? (well there's no sleep happening I'm certain, but you know what I mean!).
Part of the qualification criteria for being a "cougar" is being over the age of 35. THIRTY FIVE. I turn 35 in October. If I was single does that mean I'd qualify as a "cougar" (presuming I'd be wanting to sink my claws into an innocent young and strapping buck who happens to cross my path, which being single, why wouldn't I).
BUT if I'm now out with my girlfriends having a few drinks will "young bucks" think we are cougars on the prowl? Or perhaps the wedding rings, bags under our eyes and stray bits of vomit and snot from the kids on our clothing give us away?
Incidently - the red-headed cougar in the above picture is a celebrity we all know. Can you guess who?
Crash has a problem and we don't really know what to do. He's a thumb sucker. Here he is with one of his "blankies" - this was taken awhile back now and the blankies have gone to the Dummy Fairy who took Rowdy's dummies one night. Crash liked to hold the corner of a blankie whilst sucking his thumb. We were hoping that the removal of the blankies would solve the problem. Not so. He now holds the corner of a tea towel, or a cushion, or the blanket on his bed, or his shirt. It's not all the time, mostly when he's bored or tired.
We've tried sending him to the naughty chair every time we catch him. Mr Chic has threatened amputation of his thumb. I've painted on that stuff on his finger nail that is supposed to taste gross, but he didn't care.
We asked him last night "are you a baby?". "No I'm a big boy" "well why are you sucking your thumb? do big boys suck their thumb?" "No" he replied "But I can't stop!".
We don't want him teased when he goes to school next year and we also don't want a gigantic orthodontist bill when he's older!