no more words

bad mum

If you had told me six month ago that I would care about characters in a show that was so high school I would have told you were crazy. Tonight I was the crazy one. I cried during the season final of Grey's Anatomy. I don't think I watched a single episode of the first season and I could not have cared less about McDreamy and the others but tonight I watched the last twenty minutes of greys anatomy tonight in my bedroom and I cried. I had intended only to have the tv on while I was changing my bed sheets but I got caught up and stopped changing my sheets to watch my show. I could hear Poppy grizzling in the lounge room, she was a cold and has been sooky this whole weekend, I ignored her to watch all the kissing and the love stuff.
Bad mum.
Last night I went out childless and husbandless. I had to come home briefly at 10:30pm to drop stuff off before going to the next venue with my girlfriends. When I walked in the lounge I found Gus sitting by his self on the couch watching Lara Croft on tv. I changed the channel to Nick Jr, quickly popped my head in the bedroom told Mick I wasn't staying and that Gus was now watching something more suitable. I made the most of my night out and came home just after 12am. Garrett had come home 20 mins earlier and said that Gus was still awake then so he had put him to sleep.
Bad mum.
A couple weeks ago Zac asked Mick "Dad, how do you kill people?"
I'm sure that makes me a bad mum.

I've got to get home

"Hey guys it's quarter past three. Do we want to get this meeting started on time?"

What I really mean is...

"Come on guys, let's get this meeting started, I've got to get home. The sooner we start the sooner we finish and when we are done then you can talk about the jobs you had when you were at university. You see I've got 3 beautiful kids. I come to work so they have a roof over their heads and food in their belly's. I don't work so they can have designer wear, my oldest is wearing second hand clothes. I don't get paid enough to take them on over seas holidays. I can't afford to put my children into child care. It costs as much as I get paid. My husband and I work full time so that we don't have to rent a house and have someone else telling us how long we can live there and whether or not the house is clean enough. We bought a house 40 mins drive away from work because we couldn't afford the $500,000 price tag to live within walking distance, like you. I don't get to see my children very much during the week. Often they are sleeping when I get home, and my mornings are busy spent getting myself and the other little people ready for the day so that when their dad comes home from his permanent night shift to look after the children all day he doesn't have to worry about dressing, breakfast, teeth and prayers. He just has to feed them lunch and keep them alive until I come home. If this meeting goes too long because you want to be social or you don't make your point fast enough. You are stealing my time with my family and I have so little of it to begin with. Can you live with that because I can't. So let's get this meeting started because I've got to get home."

"Hi welcome to the meeting I only want this meeting to be half an hour. Okay?"

"Great."

1 hour later

"Thank you everyone. We'll meet again in 7 weeks. Was this time slot suitable for you all?"

"Un-huh"
"Yeah"
"Great!"

poo

No this isn't an anecdote about last night at Mum's place where Gus stood up and a brown pellety poo was shaken loose from the bottom of his trackies. I looked at him as he looked at me and with a concerned look on his face he said, "Me not tell you Mum."

Instead it is a little story about how tonight I came home from work with a treat for the boys. I gave Gus and Zac a chocolate chip chocolate scone. Gus took his scone, looked at it and said "It's not poo Mum. It's cake." Zac agreed with Gus. "It looks like poo Gus, but it's cake."


Lovely.


This is on top of Gus objecting to the stir fry I had made a couple nights ago. I called the boys to come and eat dinner. Gus began to climb his chair. As he was arriving at the top I placed his plate on the table. Gus looked into the bowl before he settled into the chair. He stopped. He began to descend the chair. He said to me. "That's poo Mum. Me no eat it." I was so shocked, I had no time to compose myself. I snickered and looked at his retreating form incredulously. I promise you I offered him no other food that night. He went to bed hungry but he did not complain. Obviously that was preferable to him than being forced to eat my cooking.


I have to admit that Gus' insults are so funny that whenever he comes up with another good one I have to tell every one.


Like on Saturday while the boys were with Ingrid at Monarto Zoo the safari bus driver stopped a little too long at a gate. Gus says (loud enough for the bus driver and passengers to hear) "Hurry up!" then with perfect timing follows it up with "Me just joking." Apparently those' who weren't laughing after the initial remark were definitely amused by the punch line.


Classic.

Scraps of Singapore

I've used some new jpeg papers and png embellishments that I bought from CottageArts.net especially for my holiday scrapping. I totally couldn't afford it but I'm so pleased with this page that I think it is worth it.

The Jumbo picture was taken on Friday 2nd May. After walking along the East Coast we ended up at a small group of restaurants that Garrett had remember to be there from his visit to Sinapore last year. The head waiter was so keen to have our business that it didn't even phase him that he didn't have a table (or chairs) for us to sit at. As we followed him across the already bustling courtyard other waiters were ahead putting out 3 chairs then a table and a table cloth. The food was good and there was plenty of it. Poppy was hot and wanted me to rock her while standing. The second I sat down she screamed so I ate most of the dinner standing up. The Merlion pictures were taken on the next night. We did a lot of walking and we saw so many pretty sights. The best thing of the whole holiday was the company. A close second were all the people who came up to us to say hello and what a beautiful baby we had. The worst thing was the humidity and a close second was the effect it had on Poppy, she cried a lot when she was too uncomfortable. Good food, good times.

May done

Update

Kristie is having so much fun in her photography class. She took some photo's of Poppy last Saturday.

I've been at work for two weeks now. Week one ended SO much better than it started. On Friday the middle school students went to the movies to see Nim's Island. I didn't go with them and instead stayed back with a one-on-one (let's call the student Jordan) who doesn't like going to the movies. This could have been stressful because Jordan can go from sullen to aggressive in seconds flat. However on this day Jordan was pleasant and fun. When the class came back from the movie at 12pm we all went to another student's (let's call the student Gerry) grandparent's house for Gerry's birthday party. Jordan was pleasant to be with all afternoon. Yay!

By the end of week 1 Poppy was much more receptive to the bottle. Mick was giving her two 60-80ml bottles each day. I wasn't getting much sustained sleep through the night because Poppy was filling her tummy on breast milk throughout the night as we lay together. I'm use to interrupted sleep though nothing to complain about.

Week two everything was so good at home I picked up an extra 4 hrs of work each week until the end of term. Mick said I could do the extra hours so that we have money to pay for my motor bike license and bike. You see we need a second vehicle. Mick needs a car for looking after the crew and I need to get to and from work. So with soring petrol prices Mick and I decided it would be best if I got an economic vehicle of the two wheeled variety.

Poppy is now drinking 300mls from the bottle during the day. And my reflexes are quickly getting back to where they were 5 months ago when I went on maternity leave. So that means a lot less hitting, kicking, biting, head butting injuries to myself and other students when I'm one-on-one. Victory.