Tuesday 17 April 2012

Dignity

Apparently we all have dignity.... mine (if I ever had any, which is doubtful) gave up, probably after I got my bottom out in public for like the 5th time. I find that having a lack of dignity and a high embarrassment threshold is most useful when you're the mum of a small child with a loud voice.

 These are merely a small selection of my person favourites....

Scene: Changing rooms in department store. Trying on bras. Boy is strapped into buggy with a variety of food stuffs and toys just to afford me 5 mins to try on bras.. a luxury that costs me both, emotionally and financially.
I'm crammed in a tiny changing room, hot and flustered and getting stuck in my clothes due to lack of space and Boy is getting antsy (which is a polite way of saying that toddler tantrum is building and The Fear is beginning to fill me like a panic attack)

Finally I unhook my bra and this is what happened....

"MUMMMMMMMMYYYYYY YOU GOT NIPPLES!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

...and no, I am not exaggerating the volume or hysteria my naked bosoms created in Boy. There was then a silence...

Then several laughs, man, woman and child...

I did not buy a new bra that day.




Scene: I am in the shower (which takes me like 5 minutes tops) this is risky, Boy is unattended. There is a knock at the door.... The Postman.
The postman and Boy have communication through the letterbox on a daily basis and mostly (because I am addicted to ebay) there is a parcel, requiring me to open to the door.

Dilema... I am covered in soap, naked and my 3 year old is talking to the Postman through the letterbox unsupervised.. he's probably giving him money from my purse.
Just as I'm scrambling for a towel (hand size of course as I was unprepared) and just as I approach the stairs, I hear this...

"Alright mate (postman), Mummy is NAKIES... I can see NIPPLES!"

So the Postman is greeted by me, soapy, naked except for a small towel and red faced... we then did a very ridiculous and humiliating dance involving him handing me the parcel while I sign his book but also keep my towel up.

We now have an agreement where he leaves parcels under the car.... sensible.



This next one I cannot blame on Boy, this one was all me.

Scene: At an indoor soft play centre. I'm crawling through a tunnel on my hands and knees, to grab Boy from assaulting a fellow toddler, right at the top. This means looking like a tit and running the assault course made for midgets.

I'm following the bum of another mum in front of me. Just for a laugh and what I mistakenly thought would be a friendly mum joke I said this as we approach the light at the end of the tunnel...

"Hahaha, reckon this is what it feels like to be born... except less messy and painful.. hahahahaha."

Silence...
She didn't find that funny.. how can you not find that funny....??

Ah, she turns round and I see her heavily pregnant self, bracing herself to climb a net fence...

Note to self... pregnant mums do not like jokes about birth...

Monday 16 April 2012

Characters'

I distinctly remember when I was pregnant (whilst looking lovingly at my bump) saying that I wasn't going to be a mug and buy character stuff for my child.

 I will not allow bump to be brainwashed and hypnotised by cartoons. 

I was reminded of this foolish statement the other night whilst putting Boy to bed...

There is he is, my lovely little boy, in his toy story pyjamas, snuggling up to his makka pakka and Iggle Piggle teddies, underneath his Cars 2 duvet cover and matching pillowcase. In the background is the soothing night time song of Balamory from 'Cbeebies Hits'. I realise as I am stood there that somehow, Disney, by way of subliminal messaging is responsible for the majority of the shit in my house!

Now I am aware of this disease spreading through my home, I can see it everywhere and am now obsessed with finding out how my home is becoming a shrine to the likes of Buzz and McQueen.

Somehow, unless it has a picture of buzz lightyear on it I feel I am failing to provide my son with proof that I acknowledge his likes. For example..

He's more likely to eat Bob the Builder spaghetti than normal hoops..(I tell myself this as justification for the 40p price difference)

He's more likely to sleep in bedding adorned with pictures of cars.. (even though I know that red and black polyester sheets are not great bed fellows)

He's more likely to ride the scooter if it has a picture of Peppa Pig on it.. (He's a boy, he'd ride the lawn mower just for a laugh!)

He's more likely to wash if I buy the Iggle Piggle wash mitt (This one is total bullshit. I know from experience that the wash mitt will be used once, by me, to clean the bath then thrown away)

He must have Buzz Lightyear trainers (to be fair to me, he chose them. This is more my inability to say no than pressure to buy shit)

Boy even has Peppa Pig pants, because as we all know when potty training it makes such a difference which cartoon character is getting soaked in toddler wazz.

Even when making a conscience effort not to buy this shit I still find it invading my home. There is not a room in my house that I don't find myself being eyeballed by a Disney drone and the worst part is.. once it's in the house it will never leave.

Boy will never let them leave.....

The bogey

This is the conversation recently had between me and boy in the car...

"Mummy, I got a bogey."
"Thats nice, is it a big squishy one?"
"Yes Mummy, and crispy, Im going to eat it"
"Eurgh no."
"Why NOT Mummy!"
"Because its disgusting."
".. I'm going to eat it..."
"No, don't eat it."
"Why not?"
"Please don't eat it."
"WHY NOT! I WIPE IT ON WINDOW INSTEAD MUMMY!"
"No."

Silence... I know that this means he has wiped it on the window.

..."I did it Mummy."
"I told you not to."
"Why not? I put it on window."
I turn to see but there is no bogey, just a trail where it had been smeared up the glass.
"Where is it then?"
"Oh, I licked it off and eat it Mummy."

Delightful.