Monday, August 17, 2009

(Another) Multiple Birth

Not mine (to assure my partner who probably just fainted).
This morning I saw a knocked-up mouse frolicking about the kitchen. OMG. Now the rest of you have probably just fainted. I cannot believe that we not only have to contend with viral conjunctivitis and teething this week, but also vermin. I feel defeated; this is the mouse that broke the mother's back. But have those babies anywhere near my babies Mouse, and I'm bringing in the big guns. Oh yeah, it will be stick pads, pest control and Pumpkin the cat. Why respond with a water pistol when you can engage nuclear arsenal? I'm not called Kim for nothing. Hell, I might change my surname to Jong-il and order in some Korean BBQ just to show that mouse I mean business. Dear Leader.
Must get back to filling every gap in the house with steel wool. Some of those gaps are so big, I bet that mouse just strolled in on her hind legs.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Behind the Pack

A well informed source informs me that statistically the children least ready to start school are premature twin boys. Tick. Tick. Tick. My lot will be commencing school at 12 at this rate. Anyway, I now preempt any discussion with other mothers about my children with "well, of course they're developmentally delayed" which seems to quash everybody's competitive spirit. People want to fight warriors, not chiwawas.
Just as I was resigned to a life lived 3 months behind the pack, however, two things happened. Firstly, George undid his seatbelt. I double checked it before we left Mum's birthday party and got home to find him climbing out of his carseat. Then I found Edgar, who is still on pureed food, with cake crumbs around his mouth. Carpe diem my son. There's no birthday cake at home, that's for sure.
I know I should be appalled that the only thing my children excel at is escapism and binge eating, but secretly I feel overjoyed. There's hope yet; I was sure they were going to struggle to land jobs in the Bunnings' carpark.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

In Joke

Maternal Instinct

The sleep school comment seems to have caused concern with my reader. My reader is worried that in sleep school I will be separated from my babies by force, therefore thwarting my maternal instinct. I need to assure her that this is a good thing. After 10 nights without sleep, my maternal instinct was telling me to throw the boys out the window; my rational side suggested this might not be such a great outcome. It may not be politic to admit it, but sometimes I think the line between abusive parenting and normal loving parenting is terrifyingly thin.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Hostile Takeover

The Photo Take II

I posted this earlier this evening but seem to have lost it. So, here it goes again...

After looking at this blog, an acquaintance commented that I was looking great. We haven't caught up. WE CAN NEVER CATCH UP.
Did she really think that photo was recent? Does she really think a person could look like that after 18 months without sleep? After putting down a family block of white chocolate and a box of white chocolate magnums per day while breastfeeding (true story)? Does she really think I will ever use a recent photo again? No way Jose. My days of happy snaps are well and truly over. From here on in, it's all about old shots, airbrushing, and heck, if it hurts less than my ceasar, plastic surgery.

The comment actually reminded me of a school visit I did last year 7 months pregnant. Although the photo was well under a year old at that stage, one of the girls in the audience put up her hand and said "You know. You don't look anything like your picture." Bless. That's why people send their kids to private schools. I felt like holding her thick glossy plaits and dunking her poreless skin in a vat of oil. You'll be relieved to know I didn't.

Must sign off. Boys sleeping and I don't want the typing to wake them.