When I Grow Up

On our way to school earlier this week, the kids started discussing what they wanted to be when they grew up.

Boywonder said that since he was so good at pulling his seatbelt out and across him to do it up that he would be good at making car seats and belts for cars.

Tomboy said that she was good at drawing so she would be an artist when she grew up.

I asked who was going to be a doctor.

With their professions already chosen, Tomboy and Boywonder nominated Miss Flora, to which Miss Flora responded with, ‘Nooo, I’m going to be a dog!’

It brought back memories of when The Apprentice was little and declared she was going to be a tree when she grew up. The interesting thing is that she’s studying conservation land management and horticulture…

Why Do I Have White Hair?

I was sitting on the steps, watching Boywonder at Auskick while Tomboy stood on the step behind me, playing with my hair.

It was very relaxing until Tomboy said, ‘Why have you got white in your hair?’

I ignored her question, hoping she’d find something else back there – nits, fleas, ticks…

But it wasn’t to be.

Slightly louder this time: ‘Mummy, why is there white hair on your head?’

I was still hoping something – anything – would distract her when she asked with a shout, ‘Mummy, why do you have white hair?!’

Tomboy’s loud vocalisation about my grey roots in desperate need of some hair dye, not only confirmed I was going grey (not to mention deaf), but brought it to the attention of everyone within a ten-metre radius.

My reply: ‘Because I have too many kids!’

A couple of weeks later while seated at the computer waiting for the hair dye on my head to do its job, Tomboy asked me why I was dying my hair.

‘To get rid of the white hair,’ I replied.

‘Oh, you didn’t tell me you had white hair,’ she said before trotting off to play.

At least I’m not suffering memory problems!

Tomboy Takes Over the World!

While Mr T and Boywonder have been home sick with the flu this week, Tomboy and Miss Flora have been busy trying to take over the world.

When Mr T came downstairs after trying to have a nap, Tomboy asked, ‘Did you have a good sleep, Daddy?’

Mr T said, ‘I was until I heard a lot of banging downstairs.’

‘Ah, yes,’ replied Tomboy, ‘we were trying to take over the world.’

‘Well you woke me.’

‘Sorry about that,’ said Tomboy before running off to continue her appropriation of the world from the safety of our lounge room.

Mother's Day

My Mother’s Day started on Thursday with a special visit to the kindergarten with the other mums. We spent an hour being pampered and making princess things with our children. The mums got to be the princesses!

After Tomboy and I enjoyed decorating a portrait of myself as a princess, making a princess crown and reading a book together, we moved to the table that had fairy pillows on it. They were for me to rest my hands on while Tomboy gave me a hand massage with some hand moisturiser.

I asked Tomboy if she wanted my hands palms up or down and she turned them so they were palms up. She then stuck her finger in the tub of moisturising cream and dropped a big dollop in my right palm. She then got another rather large dollop and dropped it into my left palm.

Tomboy wasted no time spreading the cream about on my hands. Realising that she had quite a bit of cream on her own hands, she stopped spreading it about on mine and proceeded to rub her hands together.

Still sitting there with slathers of cream on each palm (there was enough to do my legs too), I reminded her about my hands.

‘Rub them together like this!’ she said as she continued to rub her hands together in a vain attempt to get rid of it.

And that was the end of my hand massage. 

The rest of our activities were a little hampered after that. Pulling tiny heart stickers off of a sticker sheet to stick on a plastic pot or threading small beads to make a princess bracelet is extremely challenging when performed with slippery hands. (The teacher had to tie my bracelet together!)

At least I have my wonderful portrait, drawn by Tomboy to remind me of how much fun we had together. 

Her talents are exceptional. See how well she’s captured my double chin. And that isn’t a line of pimples, it’s my diamond necklace and, no, she didn’t make me a ‘ranga’ with a mohawk, that’s an orange tiara. The blue eyeshadow was my idea, reminiscent of the eighties.

I’d love to say that Mother’s Day on Sunday was filled with self-indulgence, but I worked all day, while Mr T cleaned the house and kept the kids busy so I could get on with the job. I did, however, spend the day in my pyjamas (the benefits of working from home) and received some wonderful presents.

At least Boywonder didn’t declare the day his five minutes after I opened my presents – like he did last year.

http://becausemumsaid.blogspot.com/2010/05/mothers-day-or-is-that-boys-day.html

 

My Age – According to Tomboy!

Tomboy was standing on the other side of the backyard when she held up a piece of blue string that she’d found in the garden. ‘What’s this, Mummy?’ she asked me.

I am short-sighted, and thus, need glasses to see things clearly when they are far away.

‘I can’t see it properly, bring it here,’ I replied.

‘Can’t you see it because you’re old?’  asked Tomboy.

‘No,’ I replied, ‘it’s because I don’t have my glasses on!’

A few days later, The Apprentice informed me that Tomboy asked her if I had a boyfriend when I was younger. (They'd been discussing boyfriends.) To ensure The Apprentice understood what she meant by ‘when Mummy was younger’, Tomboy added, ‘When there was dinosaurs!’

The Mummy Willeh Monster

Every now and then kindergarten children produce something a little more interesting than the standard odd-shaped circle containing three dots and a line to represent a face. After completing the picture with four longer lines pointing in random directions to represent the arms and legs, they incorporate their imagination into the drawings, but the results aren’t always what we expect.

Here’s a picture that Tomboy painted at kindergarten this week. I’m sure that, like me, you’re wondering what the short middle leg is and I have no doubt that, like me, you guessed right – it’s a willeh!

 

Just to be sure, I asked Tomboy and she confirmed it. She called the strange looking creature a willeh monster.

‘So it’s a boy monster,’ I said.

‘No, it’s a mummy monster,’ she replied.

‘But it has a willeh!’

‘Yes, it’s a mummy willeh monster,’ replied Tomboy matter of factly.

I reminded her, ‘I don’t have a willeh.’

‘I know, I was just pretending.’

So last week she told Mr T he had big boobs and this week she’s painting mummy as a monster with a willeh. (Mr T thought he had problems!)

There are many theories that can be tossed about on this one. Maybe she sees me as a monster when I’m angry (and rightly so), but that doesn’t explain the willeh.

She’s always been a bit put out that Mr T and Boywonder have willehs and we don’t. (It doesn’t help that Boywonder says they’re awesome because they have willehs.) Maybe she thinks she’s doing me a favour by giving me a willeh.

My favourite theory is that Mummy wears the pants!

So, Mummy looks like a monster when she’s angry, but she’s an awesome monster because she has a willeh.

Yep, that definitely says that I wear the pants…especially when I’m angry!

Who has big boobies?

From the moment we have children we’re reminded of how old we are. Despite the tubby belly that sticks out above the top of the nappy and the baby fat that cushions their limbs, we see perfection. From the velvety hair on their heads, to the silken skin that covers their bodies, they’re everything we’re not.

It’s not cute when Mr T’s belly sticks out above the top of his pants and the small amount of fat I used to love sitting high on my chest has started heading south. Some of it may have even migrated to my thighs. Why it would want to move from the chest to the thigh is beyond me, but that was the last place I saw it. That's still gotta be better than remaining attached to my chest, but sitting on my belly…hasn't it?

Even if we manage to keep the bulges in check and where they should be, we can’t escape the ravages of time and circumstance as the wrinkles move in, and, as in Mr T’s case, the hair moves out. We all experience the signs of aging. Some of us openly work hard to fight it, throwing diet, exercise and cosmetic surgery at it, others ignore it in the hope it will slow down faster than what we do, and the rest of us alternate between ignorance and short spurts of dieting and exercise.

Regardless of whether we’re comfortable with it and how we deal with it, there is always an innocent child waiting in the wings to remind us of our true physical appearance. Mr T was helping Tomboy dress herself after her bath when he joked that she’d better cover up her big boobies.

‘I don’t have big boobies!’ she replied indignantly, as any four year old still sporting some leftover baby fat would.

‘Sorry, small boobies,’ replied Mr T. ‘Who has big boobies?’ he asked her.

‘Mummy – and you, Daddy.’

Being small busted I felt quite chuffed; Mr T didn’t, but I believe he’s about to enter into one of those short spurts of dieting and exercise.

Froggy recognition

While visiting her aunty in Queensland, Miss Flora enjoyed a close encounter with a large green tree frog. After spending a few minutes oohing and aahing over the frog, Miss Flora returned to the lounge room with Aunty.

No sooner had Miss Flora sat down when she spied Aunty’s coasters. They each contained a vivid photograph of a green tree frog, identical to the real frog Miss Flora and Aunty had been saying hello to.

Miss Flora picked up a coaster in each hand and raced to the back door, begging Aunty to open it. As soon as Aunty obliged, Miss Flora shot out the door to the frog. She very carefully laid the coasters on the ground in front of him and pointed at them, exclaiming, ‘look! look!’

Not yet two, Miss Flora not only connected the frog with the pictures on the coasters, but was desperate to share her discovery with him.

Maybe it was the frog’s lack of reaction or she felt he couldn’t quite see the coasters properly, but laying them in front of him wasn’t sharing enough. Miss Flora placed her hand behind the frog and tried to gently push him forward towards the coasters.

It’s small moments like this that remind me of how magical being a parent can be.