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Man Boobs and We're Moving!

How do men know when their man boobs have become too big?

When their 2 ½ year old daughter holds her mummy’s bra up against Daddy’s bare chest and says, ‘Boobies!’

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When does 5-3=5?

When Boywonder holds up five fingers on one hand and three fingers on the other and says, ‘Five take away three,’ before removing the hand with three fingers and announcing the answer is five.

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This is the last post on this blog. All future posts will be on http://finding-my-star.blogspot.com.au/

Finding My Star reveals the journey that my family embarked on when I first fell ill two years ago. From the frustration of misdiagnoses to acceptance and adjustment, it includes the challenges we were forced to face, the changes we made, recipes and the effect it had on my views in life.

It will still incorporate the humorous side of our lives – thankfully, that hasn’t changed!

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Borrowing What You Already Own?

As much as kids enjoy experiencing and learning new things when they start going to school, they also get a huge amount of pleasure and comfort from familiarity.

Tomboy loves visiting the school library each week. Her favourite part of the visit is borrowing a new book to bring home for Mr T to read to her and her siblings at bedtime.

She has been especially excited about her book choices the last two weeks.

When I opened her library bag to see what story she’d brought home, I was a little confused. I lifted Rhino Neil by Mini Goss out of the bag and said, ‘We already own this book.’

I thought that maybe Tomboy had forgotten.

‘Yes! That’s why I got it,’ replied Tomboy quite proudly.

She was just as proud when she brought home Who Sank the Boat by Pamela Allen – another book that we already own.

Boywonder did the same thing last year when he started school. It might seem a little silly to borrow a book that one already owns, but that little bit of familiarity between school and home seems to boost their confidence.

Unfortunately, Mr T was a little disappointed when Tomboy didn’t bring home a new story to read at bedtime. Maybe I should send him to the local library to choose a couple of picture books for himself. 

Chilli Anyone…Again!

After Boywonder and Tomboy’s run-in with chilli, I discovered how much pain one tiny speck of chilli juice can cause. I lost a lot of chillies to some fiendish grub, so a friend, whose chilli bush thrived this summer, offered me quite a few of their chillies.

There were far too many chillies to use before they went off, so I decided to slice them up and freeze them ready for future cooking. I was halfway through the slicing when a tiny speck of chilli juice flicked straight into my eye.

My first reaction was to close my eyes and touch them with my hands. Luckily, I stopped myself before I thrust my chilli-covered hands onto my eyes. I could feel the burning sensation in my eye immediately. What was worse, that tiny speck of chilli juice was mixing with the fluid in my eyes – the heat was spreading across my eyeball like wildfire.

Helpless without the use of my chilli-covered hands, I called Mr T to help rinse my eyes. The more my eyes watered from the burning, the more the burning spread. Mr T grabbed a face washer from the drawer and wet it with water, but that did no good.

Then Mr T remembered milk and we splashed that onto the face washer. It was useless trying to get the milk into my eye as I couldn’t open it long enough due to the pain, and if I did get it open, I couldn't stop the reflex to close it when the milk got near it, so I held the milk-soaked face washer to my eye.

Each time I took the face washer away to see if the burning was gone, it returned even stronger and had continued to spread. My eye felt like it was on fire beneath my eyelid and on the skin all around my eye. It had even spread to my nose as it watered furiously.

Half and hour later I eased the face washer off my eye and was relieved to find the fire was out. I returned to slicing up the chillies, but decided to wear my glasses while I did it.

And just in case I hadn’t learnt my lesson, an hour after I’d finished cutting up the chillies, my hands started to feel like they were on fire. The more I tried to get rid of it, the worse they felt.

A quick Google search revealed salt, alcohol and mayonnaise as possible ways to relieve it. They all worked while I was doing it, but as soon as I washed my hands off, they felt even hotter.

In the end I took some painkillers and went to bed. The heat was gone by the morning, but two days later, as soon as I used my hands a lot, the burning sensation returned to my fingertips.

So now I wear glasses and gloves when cutting up chillies. 

The Stinky Boy

Tomboy enjoyed her first couple of days of school, but had a major complaint at the end of the second day.

I asked her how the day went and she declared, ‘There is a very stinky boy in my class!’

‘Was he farting a lot?’ I asked.

‘No.’

‘Had he pooed his pants?’

‘Noooo, he was just really stinky,’ she replied with obvious frustration at my inability to understand the ‘stink’.

‘Okay,’ I said. To avoid aggravating her further, I changed the subject to her upcoming birthday party and who we should invite.

Tomboy’s first request was, ‘Can you not invite the stinky boy?’

We’d delayed her birthday party so we could also use it as a way for Tomboy to bond with her new school friends. The boys outnumber the girls two to one, and I didn’t want her party being too big or dominated by a bunch of boisterous boys.

I explained that I was thinking of having a small party with only the girls from her class.

‘No, I want boys there too. Just don’t invite the stinky boy. He has too much stinkiness!’

We didn’t invite the stinky boy or any of the other boys. As originally planned, we invited the other five girls in Tomboy’s class and have booked a fairy to come and entertain the girls with games and face painting tomorrow.

She may still end up with a stinky boy at her party if her brother, Boywonder, and his butt are in fine form.

Leaking

Recent episodes of Home and Away were very sad for Junior Accountant and me when a main character we really liked died.

After watching the funeral, Junior Accountant said, ‘I did well, I only had one tear escape.’

Still sobbing, I turned to her and said, ‘Wait until you get older, it’s harder to keep them in.’

To which she replied, ‘What, like your wee?’

I had a few more tears after that, but at least they were from laughing so hard.

And no, I didn’t wet myself from laughing too hard!

Chilli Anyone?

The three youngest children enjoy helping me with our little veggie garden, but they also get bored quickly. Five minutes after accompanying me outside to stake my tomatoes and find a suitable pot for my new chilli bush, they disappeared back inside the house.

A short while later Boywonder came to the back door and told me his nose was burning. I didn’t doubt it, as his nose was so red he looked like Rudolph. He said that Tomboy’s top lip was also burning.

I made it very clear to him that they weren’t in trouble and that it was very important that he tell me what they’d put on their faces. The possible scenarios raced through my head. Had someone left the exit mould out after cleaning the bathroom and they’d sprayed it in their faces? Had they used something they’d mistakenly thought was sunscreen?

Boywonder was adamant that they hadn’t put anything on their faces. ‘All we did was smell the chilli,’ he explained.

‘You didn’t bite one did you?’ I asked.

‘No, you told us not to taste them because they were hot, so we only smelled that one,’ he said pointing at half a chilli on the ground near the chilli bush.

Just as they’d been told, they didn’t pull anything off of the bush (the offending chilli had fallen off when I was repotting the plant) and they didn’t taste the chilli.

And now they also know not to touch their faces with a chilli when smelling it.

They spent the rest of the afternoon walking around the house holding wet facewashers to their nose and top lip and I was pleased to know that we’d bought a chilli bush with some heat in it!