Lay All Your Love .. ..Somewhere Else!!

Even Boombah can reduce us to a rolling, crying ball of laughter. And he's not yet 5 months old!

The Rooster and I recently watched Mama Mia, and (shhhhhh) loved it! Corny, feel good and a great way to wind down and enjoy some Abba classics whilst pretending to catch up on a recent DVD release!

And the next day, Abba songs were whirring through our minds, and frequently popping out our mouths.

Until Boombah woke up and shared his skilled musical expertise on all music of Abba, in particular "Lay All Your Love On Me".

I'll post the photos because in this situation, a picture is worth a thousand words.

Watch closely as our bright and smiley baby boy manages to communicate clearly and perfectly, with no verbal skills whatsoever, to share with the world his personal musings on Abba.

Department Stores

Not only do our kids' verbal communication skills make me smile (cringe) and laugh (cry), their actions and antics have a similar effect.
Either that or we try to wander by anonymously and pretend they don't belong to us!

When Tubby was a little one, about 3 or 4, we temporarily misplaced him in Target. Whilst the Rooster and I were frantically searching the store for him, he was apparently wandering the store at leisure, stopping to look at the items that took his interest.

And then we heard him - a fearful, confused and desperate wailing coming from somewhere in the children's clothing. The Rooster and I legged it over there and followed the cries until we were stopped short by the site of our small son : holding onto the now-detatched arm of a store manikin.

I think at this point the Rooster began laughing so hard he wasn't able to be of much assistance and so it was up to me to teach our little one that destroying the store property is not acceptable.

"Tubby!" I said as firmly and calmly as I could in such circumstances. I wanted to reassure him that we were there to help him, and decided to deal with the discipline issue of running away and destruction of property later.

He wheeled around to look at me, the wayward arm still firmly in his grip. It belonged to a older child-sized manikin and was still held within the Tshirt the manikin was modelling. When attached the hand would have been about Tubby's head height, but right now it was dangling down near his legs and, from the strain on his little arms, it was becoming quite heavy.

"What are you doing?" I asked in my very best mummy-will-fix-it-all-and-then-you're-in-big-trouble-mister voice.

He looked at me with tear filled eyes and I suddenly realised he wasn't scared or worried - he was mad!
"I tried to say hello to her, but she didn't answer me" he replied, in a voice brimming with indignity and disgust. "So then I shook her hand and she bloody hit me on the head!" And he threw the arm back at the offender, aimed his boot and gave "her" a good hard kick in the shins.

And stormed off as I lunged at the toppling manikin and tried to catch "her" before she fell.
Although perhaps I could have let her fall and land on the Rooster who was, by this time, almost doubled up with laughter.



And just to prove that one of our parenting priorities is consistency, we've also lost the Rabbit in a department store. (Kmart this time I think!) We'd flown interstate to visit family, and had gone on a shopping trip with Tubby and the Rabbit, who at this time, was aged about 20 months old.
As we were flying and travelling with as little luggae as possible, we'd taken along the umbrella stroller and left the bigger, heavier (but far more comfortable!) pram at home.

And regretted the move the entire trip. Because every chance he had, the Rabbit would wriggle out of the straps and get out instead of allowing us to push him and know his whereabouts!

In Kmart we wandered the aisles, and paused in the baby goods section. (because, as is often the case, I was pregnant and clucky!) We then moved onto clothing, electrical and bedding departments, and at some point amidst the sheets and doona covers I noticed the Rabbit was no longer in the stroller.

We panicked and the Rooster, his sister and I ran through the store searching desperately for him. I notified the store assistant at the front door, described him and asked them to watch out for him, and returned to trace my steps.

And found the Rabbit. Back in the baby goods section.

He had perused the prams and chosen the most padded, comfortable and reclining one, climbed in, attempted to do up the harnass and was patiently waiting for us to begin pushing him in his new "wheels"!

I think since then we've managed to not loose anyone for any length of time, in a department store. Or I haven't been aware they've been missing anyway!

Out for a Treat

We took the family out for a culinary treat tonight - McDonalds followed by Cold Rock Ice Creamery.

Yes yes, I know I know - not exactly a healthy nutritious meal, but after surviving the hairdressing salon where the 4 eldest had their hair cuts with a minimum of screaming, kicking andf fighting, we felt a reward was in order. The Rooster and I really HAD been well behaved, and an evening off cooking and cleaning is about as exciting as a reward gets these days.

The only other kind of "reward" we manage seems to result in yet another child for our family, so McDonalds it was!

Being an evening in the weeks leading up to Christmas, right about when parents across the country are finding ways to wiggle out of preparing and serving the dinner meal - McDonalds was pretty busy. So the Rooster took the kids to the playground area, while I ordered our food.

I learnt about 2 kids ago that the quickest way to order for our family is to write it down on a scrap of paper and hand it over to the person serving me. that way I don't have to repeat things multiple times and end up confusing myself AND the operator. So I gather the trays of food, and find the family who are either playing loudly or sitting at the table waiting, ravenously.

When we're out and about, people tend to notice us. I don't think a family of 7 is all that big or noticeable, but clearly I am in the minority in this thinking. And when we take up most of the party table on our own - well, it looks like there are a lot of us!

So we attracted some attention, sat down to eat, attracted some more attention, and the kids ran off to play.

A little more attention came our way when the Rabbit came hurtling out of the slide with an older child in hot pursuit. Both boys screeched to a halt in front of the Rooster, who paused between mouthfuls of Quarter Pounder and looked questioningly at his son.

"Hey Dad?"

"Yes Rabbit?"

"You do Kung Fu don't you?"

"Yes I do" replied the Rooster, looking somewhat puzzled.

"See?" the Rabbit said, turning to the child behind him "I TOLD you my Dad does Kung Fu.

Now hit 'im Dad! Hit 'im!!"

After a brief chat about how his Dad DOES train in Kung Fu but does not and will not use his skills to beat up the kid who called the Rabbit "Spiderman freak", playing and eating continued and attention began to be drawn away from the super sized family with Spiderman and Kung Fu Panda in their midst.

But not for long.

The Rooster and I were having a quiet and somewhat serious chat when Tubby calls our names. He'd been eating quietly but his voice is quite loud and carries quite clearly and we learnt long ago to acknowledge him the first time he requests, or else he will keep going and going (and going and going and going and going!) until we DO respond!

So we paused our conversation and turn our attention to our eldest - as did most other diners in the restaurant, due to the previously mentioned loud, clear voice this boy has.

And we looked questioningly at him, waiting for him to share a fascinating and obscure piece of trivia he has just remembered, which is something that happens often during mealtimes with Tubby.

"I was just thinking" he announced, in that fore-mentioned loud, clear voice.

"Sometimes I come to talk to you and I see you with Dad, and Dad has his hands on your bottom and sometimes even down your pants. Like this..!" and he stood up to demonstrate.

We finished our meal very quickly and hurried out of the restaurant.

And I have no idea what the other diners were doing after that because I was not prepared to look at a single ONE of them.

Although perhaps Tubby was also aware of the attention and was simply providing the on-lookers with a reasonable and slightly subtle explanation for our family size!!!!

Some things just cannot be explained. We figure he'll work it out in about 10 years time!

Shopping with Daddy

The Rooster, bless him, prefers not to take all 5 kids shopping alone. He's willing to do it if I'm there as well, or another adult - but something about the idea of 5 young children all running in different directions and grabbing at different items on shelves, and quite possibly ending up with those shelves on top of them and then being pursued by an angry store manager ............... well, it seems to give him chills. .

He is, however, quite willing to take a couple of the kids with him. Especially if it means he can head for the nearest supermarket under the guise of buying bread, and "just happen" to pass the cold section and pick up an Ice Break (iced coffee) while he's there! I'm not sure but I suspect his addiction to these regular shots of caffeine and sugar have something to do with being a Dad of 5??!!

Sometimes, even being the Dad of just 2 is a struggle! Like his recent outing with a couple of the youngsters. .......

He headed into town with a short list, his wallet, his mobile phone and the Honey Girl & Pants. According to all sources they had a pleasant morning together, collecting the items on the list, coming up with new items which just happened to be over by the *ahem cough cough* COLD section, and chatting together. They paid for their purchases and after loading the car and preparing to head home, Pants made the announcement that he needed the toilet.

Now given we've taken over 12 months to toilet train this boy, when he says he needs the toilet, he NEEDS THE TOILET! So the Rooster grabbed both kids by the hand and headed for the parents room/disabled toilet.

As they entered the small cubicle, they stepped back for the woman hurrying out of the same room, and heading for her nearby car. Upon entering the toilet, the Rooster and kids were knocked back by the overpowering odour of cigarette smoke, and pile of ash beside the actual toilet was a clear indicator of what the previous occupant had been doing in here!

So with breath held and a little spluttering, the Rooster tended to the children, and when finished they rushed for the door to breathe some fresh air again. At this point, the Rooster decided to call me at home, perhaps to boast a little about his successful and pleasant morning with his charming and co-operative offspring.

But no sooner had he finished telling me just how delightful these children were, I heard him mutter "No, don't do that".

Followed by a hushed "Honey Girl, stop it." and then a slightly louder "Pants, NO!" and rounded off with an "I've got to go.... ..... Kids, GET UP and GET in the car...." And the phone disconnected.

I waited as patiently as a knowing mother who has just witnessed the destruction of her husband's smugness concerning the behaviour of our children in public, can possibly wait. And eventually they arrived home, with full details which the Rooster managed to deliver after several deep, long swigs of the Ice break he appeared to desperately need!

On leaving the smoke-filled change room, Pants and the Honey Girl had spotted the previous occupant of the toilet, in her parked car, with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. The Rooster noticed that she looked a little scary, a bit rough around the edges. So he rethought his previous intentions of perhaps suggesting to her that smoking in the confined space of a toilet cubicle whilst relieving yourself, when other people are going to need to use the same smoke-filled room, was not such a smart idea. Better to leave well enough alone.

Just as they passed in front of her car, this woman began coughing - that awful, hacking, bringing-up-a-chunk-of-your-lungs cough that smokers develop.

And being sensitive little souls, the children went out in sympathy with her. First the Honey Girl gave a little cough. Then Pants gave a louder, longer cough and reached for his throat. Within seconds they had a complete and dramatic demonstration going on - coughing and spluttering, hands gripped on their throats, eyes bulging and both in death throes on the footpath.

It was at this point the Rooster abruptly ended our chat on the phone, scooped up both children and bolted to the car.

We still haven't worked out how to abbreviate "We really shouldn't pretend to be the nice lady who smoked, by rolling on the ground pretending to die with your hands on your throat and your eyes popping out. It might hurt her feelings"

Perhaps they'd have a spot for these two budding young starlets in the next anti-smoking campaign?!