Well here we are… 26, September 2012Posted by babychaos in General Wittering, Mum, not while you're eating.
Tags: children, General Wittering, Small Scale Disasters
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Yeh there’s a bit of a gap isn’t there, but this blog gets hundreds of hits a day so I thought I’d come back and see what you’re all reading. 10 songs, it seems.
McMini is now 4 years old. He has started school. Today he stuffed pasta in his ear and I had to take him to hospital. The pasta worked its way towards the surface while we were waiting and was removed by the nurse.
As we waited to go in we had this conversation.
McMini. “I won’t want to eat the pasta when it comes out. ”
BC. “No, I can imagine.”
McMini. “Yes, it would be covered in earwax and it would taste yucky.”
Anonymous woman with daughter with PE injury next to BC chimes in. “Very sensible, we all know how horrible earwax tastes.”
We all laughed.
It was almost upbeat in there, nearly all kids, nearly all injured in PE, arms, legs etc. Nearly all of them with parents who were just thankful it wasn’t any worse. It made it much easier to contain McMini and considering we were waiting to see a doctor for a couple of hours it was almost fun. Some git had practically wrenched the wing mirror off my car but it seems to have been designed for that as I was able to put it back. Quite glad as it only has 100 miles on the clock and it would be a pity to break it before I’ve even finished running it in.
When Mr BC arrived home, I told him what had happened – not the car, the other bit. He guffawed and said, “he’s definitely YOUR son.”
Cheeky. True, but still cheeky.
More mini-me 29, November 2010Posted by babychaos in baby stuff, General Wittering, Mini Me, toddlers.
Tags: cats, children, kids, mini-me, motherhood
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Small fry is in bed, ready to go to sleep. Catus Maximus comes in, meowing. I pick him up and he begins to purr.
Junior knows about purring, it has alarmed him before. The first incident went like this.
“That is a noise.” mini-me had said, a look of worried incomprehension on his face.
“That is purring.” I had told him and explained that it meant our cat was content. He digested this news in silence for a while.
“OK.” he’d said.
So there we were, Junior all ready for bed, me about to kiss him goodnight and Catus Max purring in my arms.
“That is Chewie!” says the small man. “He is purring.”
“Yes, that’s right.” I say. “You remember about purring don’t you.”
A long, long thoughtful pause.
“He is alright? He is not broken?”
“No, he is not broken. He is happy.”
He comes out with this kinf of thing all the time and I can’t help thinking I should write more of it down.
More Mini Me 26, October 2010Posted by babychaos in General Wittering, Life and living, Mini Me, Mom, Mum.
Tags: children, kids, motherhood
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Mini me likes to “brush” my hair with a spoon and the handle of a pastry cutter (the wheel has long since disappeared).
“Table clap…” he was shouting yesterday as he did the brushing thing and then pretended to take something off the spoon and put it in his “kettle” (a stainless steel pot removed from one of his legal cupboards, we’re into ‘silver’ at the moment).
“Are you making tea?” I ask.
“Yes, table clap tea.”
“What’s table clap?”
“Table clap.” he says again, with a seraphic but very mischievious grin. Then the penny drops.
“Cradle cap?” I ask.
“Yes. Muggy’s cradle cap.”
“You’re making cradle cap tea?”
New swear word (or at least he thinks it is) learned after mother stands up fast, banging her head on the corner of a cupboard door as she goes and shouts the beginnings of an obscenity which she manages to change to “clangy bell” before he’s properly heard.
Junior now shouts “clangy bell” at every opportunity because he thinks it might be naughty. Never mind, it’s better than the original.
He’s been out in the rain in his pushchair with his dad. He’s fine but Mr Tiger who goes everywhere with him at the moment, is somewhat soggy.
“Poor Mr Tiger’s soaked. Shall I put him in the tumble dryer for a minute or two?” I ask and Mini-me says.
“No thank you, Muggy. He will get dizzy.”
Sorry I’ve been so absent… I’m launching a book. It should be sorted by the end of the week though. Boy will I be happy when it’s done.
More antics of mini me 25, September 2010Posted by babychaos in General Wittering, Life and living, Mini Me, Mum.
Tags: children, General Wittering, motherhood
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Grand Prix qualifying today, wee man was having his ‘rest’ he doesn’t sleep but he does need some time on his own so I put him upstairs with books and he burbles away. Mr BC and I sat happily in front of the telly listening to the baby monitor.
God knows how but he’d managed to get a pot of sudocreme – that’s nappy cream to the non breeders – it was a huge catering sized vat.
Downstairs, Mr BC and I are listening as we watch, it’s about time to collect Mini Me but he’s very quiet, is he asleep? We listen? No… there is some noise but it’s furtive – none of the usual cheery singing. After 20 minutes or so we decide he is awake and, knowing how much he will love the qualifying he likes ‘fast cars’ I go up and get him.
The site that greets me is… interesting. Imagine a mechanic. The messiest mechanic you have ever seen, with oil on their forehead, arms, clothes and everything else around them. Got that? Right, now turn the black white. I know he’s been up to something the minute I walk in because an aura of glee almost knocks me over when I go into the room.
I open the curtains and he looks up at me smiling. There is sudocreme on his forehead, his dummy and he clutches a sock in one hand which is also white with sudocreme. His trousers are white, his shirt is white and he has removed an arm and one shoulder to wear it toga style.
“Ah,” I say, “I see you have some sudocreme.”
“I have put it on this tractor,” he holds the white greasy tractor up proudly, “and this tractor,” he holds up another one, “and my feet.”
“Mmm…” I say, “Why?” That’s thrown him. He looks nonplussed but continues to smile proudly and sweetly. “Is there any left?” I ask. He hands me the container and I peer in. “No.”
It is also all over his books, and Mr Tiger, his favourite cuddly, has a slightly greasy sheen.
“Did you…?” I point.
“He had a sore bottom.” He says. The laughter bubbles up, like John McEnroe, I canNOT be serious.
More antics of Mini-Me 12, September 2010Posted by babychaos in baby stuff, General Wittering, Life and living, Mini Me, Mom, Mum, toddlers.
Tags: children, General Wittering
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Wee man has taking to running round the house unaccompanied. This is OK if I listen out but when things go very quiet it’s time to go and investigate.
Today things went quiet but I was on the loo and well you know how it is I was trapped until I had finished. The unusually peaceful atmosphere was occasionally broken by the sound of footsteps overhead. Oh dear. Then silence, except for a gentle thump every now and again, a door banging quietly? Yes, sounded like it.
As soon as I was able I headed hot foot upstairs. Nothing, not a peep.
There had been an incursion into Mr BC’s office which needed to be put right and then, as I finished tidying up, I heard it again, a gentle thud. Hmm… had he got trapped in the spare room again? He can get in there but not always out.
I went into the hall.There was the bang again. I recognised it now, it was the spare bathroom or one of the cuboards – but I couldn’t remember which one.
“Where is he…?” I said to myself as I walked. As I reached the airing cupboard the door opened slowly and a small blonde boy with the biggest most seraphic smile I have ever seen peeped out.
“I have been hiding., he said proudly and pointed, “in there…”
“Mmm… you have, haven’t you?” Was all I could say.
He’d done all sorts of bad things, like going upstairs unattended, going into his father’s office and mussing up my neatly stacked towels but there was no mischief in it and anyway I was laughing too much to be able to tell him off.
Back downstairs he spent the morning running around with an orange balloon he’d been given to take home from a party. He is very keen on the balloon and keeps saying,
“Thank you Eleanor. Thank you for my balloon.” (It was Eleanor’s party) Then he hands it to me and says. “Muggie’s balloon.” That’s my cue to chase him round the house bashing him over the head with it while he guffaws with laughter. The game usually ends when he’s laughing too much to be able to run any more and trips over and hurts himself.
“I bang my knee.” He will say, standing on one leg and proffering the banged knee upwards. “Muggy kiss it better.”
I do as I am told.
And now I must sleep, Mini BC is getting up very early at the moment.