Saturday, September 26, 2009

Luscious Lashes


Our kids all have these amazing long eye lashes. They get a lot of comments - especially the boys because they are so long and lush and thick, and apparently that's unusual on a boy?!!


The Honey Girl has them too, but doesn't get as many compliments. Probably because when these random strangers approach us to comment on the children, she pokes her tongue out and spits at them.


Last night, however, she discovered that she, too, had been blessed with delicious long lashes. Her Nana was babysitting (while I headed into town to gush over a friend's newborn *sigh*) and they had a fairlyintense discussion about eye lashes.


Nana explained that they were beautiful. And perfectly normal.

The Honey Girl replied that she hated them because only boys have "ley-lashes".

Nana calmly explained again that they were beautiful, and that EVERYBODY had them, girls AND boys.


And the Honey Girl declared she still hated them, and so she was going to rip them out.


And eat them.


Where do you go with THAT?!!


Sunday, September 13, 2009

Arachnoids Part II


The Rooster is away. For quite a long time. And I'm parenting solo.


And I can do it! I really can! I can juggle 5 children and the Houdini dog, multiple car runs to and from kinder/day care/school, manage a trip to the supermarket with all 5 in tow, ensure my schedule is reworked so I never have to do THAT again, keep up with who is swimming and who is dancing and who is sulking in the corner and refusing to take part in any extra-curricular activities, soothe nightmares, defend our home against an alien attack and generally ensure the children feel safe, protected, loved and nurtured.


But I cannot "do" spiders. Not big ugly hairy ones anyway. I'd face any of my other fears before I faced a huntsman.


And so, of course, who should grace us with his presence this morning but Mr Bigger, Uglier and Hairier than ever. Hanging off the bathroom ceiling, with nary a care in the world. Like he already KNEW there's little I could do about him being there, because Icould not bring myself to even walk up the hallway toward the bathroom now his existance had been screamed throughout the house by the Honeygirl.


Actually first she came in and announced that she could not brush her teeth for church, because there was a spider. When I asked my standard "How big?" she held out her hands to the size of a dinner plate.


I gulped, took a deep breath, struggled to find the courage I knew lay beneath the surface .......... and sent Tubby and the Rabbit to inspect it further.


The shade of the Rabbit's face gave me a good indication - he returned with a complexion to match the toothpaste the Honey Girl had dumped on the floor!



Now in our house recently, I've made a genuine effort to ensure I do not pass my great fear of spiders on to my children. (Clearly, from the Rabbit's reaction, I'm not doing so well in that regard just yet!) When a Spider Alert is put out by one of the children, I do an inspection and often my reply is "It's just a Daddy-long legs, he's alright".

And then we argue about whether it is permitted to reside in the toilet/pantry/bedroom/hallway and why it is still possible to do chores/pack up/laundry/shower/poo with a Daddy-long-legs nearby.


Now might also be a good time to point out that I have very long legs. If my body proportion matched my leg length, I'd be in supermodel territory. (that's my story and I'm sticking to it!)

I have very long legs and a fairly short body.

I am not, however, hairy. This is an important point to note. I am most certainly not hairier than the Rooster. I have a short body and long legs, but I work hard at NOT being hairy. Okay?!




So ..... there we were. Giant mutation of a Huntsman hanging on the ceiling of the bathroom, as confirmed by Tubby and the Rabbit. Both of whom are prone to slight exaggeration. But there was also no way I wanted to discover their single attempt at truth for the day by finding myself face to face with the monster of my nightmares. Big, long, hairy legs hanging off a short, rounded body, covered in those tiny hairs and beady eyes; watching me; waiting, ready to launch itself at me ..........


So I sent Pants to investigate. He's much more likely to give an accurate representation of the situation.

He ran down the hall in much excitement, and stopped at the bathroom door. Peered in. Looked up.


And let out a shout of awe : "Wooooaaaah! That's not a Daddy-long-legs..... that's a MUMMY long legs!!"


Saturday, September 5, 2009

Stretching the Truth

The Boombah has been ill lately, and so, in true "man" style, he's been whinging and moaning and looking for sympathy. Or another breastfeed. Or both.


It's been a little more challenging, caring for the rest of the tribe, when the Boombah is so demanding. So with his latest demands for comfort and cuddles when I was trying to finish making dinner, put another load of laundry on, send the dog (who is as disobedient as the children!) outside, chat on Facebook with the Rooster (who is away for work right now - isn't HE the smart one?!) and respond to Tubby's ever-increasing interst in all things Michael Jackson, I thought I'd try a new approach.


I've been a baby-wearer since my first came along, and have an assortment of slings, backpacks and carriers. None handy or easily located, of course, but all hideously expensive and regularly vomitted on.

So, inspired by a recent video clip I'd seen of an African woman, I grabbed a cot sheet and proceeded to tie myself and my baby together.


After nearly dropping the Boombah a couple of times, I enlisted Tubby's help. I asked only that he hold the Boombah in place, on my back, while I tied secure knots. I did not ask for him to lift the baby. I did not ask him to move the baby. I did not ask for him to tie the knots. I certinaly did not ask him for advice on how to go about this somewhat-technical, but-it-looks-easy-when-someone-else-does-it manouevre.


*sigh*


After watching me struggle for a short time, and seeing his smallest brother gradually relax as he snuggled into my back, Tubby made a very reasonable and sensible suggestion. To him, anyway. (Please remember : African women wear their babies on their backs. )


His ego-boosting and confidence-instilling suggestion?


"You could put your boob around there too and he could feed and cuddle at the same time"





Excuse me while I remove my "girls" from their position - tucked into my socks - and feed the Boombah again.
Tubby : charming looks AND useful suggestions all-in-one!