do I look pretty???

My husband does not get a thrill from wearing women’s clothes. He’s not a closet cross dresser and in all honesty he’d make an ugly woman. Yet for reasons unknown to me he decided to put on one of my dresses the other night and proceed to do a crazy little dance in front of the kids. All together it was probably a whole minute of dress wearing, the lads had a good laugh and the incident was forgotten.

 

That was until the other day when I went to pick the kids up from school wearing the dress. For those of you that don’t know, my boys attend a close knit Catholic School with approximately 303 students. After school all the children come to a specified area out the front where they are supervised until they are collected by parent/guardian etc. This pickup area is therefore full of parents, students, teachers and most often even the principal who supervises the drive through pick up. Picture it now, children lined up in class rows with their teachers, parents in their cliques portraying how wonderful they are and the principal out the very front near the kerb overseeing the whole thing. Then there’s me walking up to this pick up area in said dress. I am about 10 meters away from the pickup area when Josh, who’s already seen me and gotten permission to leave, steps out of the grass area onto the footpath and in front of everyone, hand on hip and shouts in a condescending tone “Mum! Why are you wearing Daddy’s dress?”. Teachers, parents, friends and yes the principal all turn to look at me who is now so red I’d put tomatoes to shame.

 

Guess I’ll have to start my own parent clique now.

found my testicular fortitude

I’m not generally one to rock the boat or cause a fuss. I’m content to go with the flow and unless necessary just leave others be to their devices.

As some of you know the other week as I walked past some smug young girls I overheard one of them not so quietly say “Thank God I am not as fat as her.” Normally I would just keep walking and not stoop to their low level. Instead I turned around, took a step closer and whilst puffing my peacock like chest loudly said “Thank God I’m not as ugly as your soul clearly is.” As I promptly and proudly walked off some people clapped and I felt victorious.

Once again whilst out yesterday I overheard a comment that propelled me into an almost Pulp Fiction style beg for forgiveness you pitiful person situation. The comment from a middle aged woman “That’s disgusting that she’s out without covering that head of hers. I can’t even look at her without feeling sick, she should be ashamed.” It was in reference to a woman whom since I don’t actually know, can only assume is undergoing some kind of medical treatment that makes her look like death warmed up and has caused her hair to fall out. Instantly reaching boiling point I could not contain the angry barrage that flowed from my mouth at her.  I mean seriously if shame should be inferred in anyone’s direction it is clearly hers. I asked her how she could come out without her disgusting mouth in check since it’s clearly a detriment to all of society. Once started though there was no stopping me and she bore the full brunt of my outrage in dumbfounded open mouthed silence. A crowd started to form in curiosity and the woman headed to the car park. I was left defending my actions it is true but still felt vilified in my actions and will not apologize for them nor feel that I was too cruel to that woman despite some of the onlookers comments.

Continuing into the supermarket I was again confronted with a scene of complete lack of respect. At the checkout where I was waiting to pay for my groceries the man in front of me went off his head at the youngish checkout girl for putting his meat in the same bag as his milk. Even though she politely apologized and rectified the issue, he continued to abuse her. So much so that the young girl was in fact in tears and he still didn’t look like stopping. Of course management were nowhere to be seen so for reasons unknown to me I stepped in and stuck up for the girl. It was of course not very successful since the man then just directed his anger at me, although I didn’t actually raise my voice to him or even say anything remotely cruel to him. I merely pointed out the problem was fixed, the girl apologized and now since she’s crying perhaps he should calm down. He did his best to engage me in an argument but I didn’t take his bait. Finally he paid for his groceries, made some threats and left. I really don’t know what is wrong with people lately.  

Watch out universe, Emma is on a rampage……… err power trip :P

alien abduction

Some days I really feel my brain has been abducted by aliens as I sleep because I just do the stupidest things. I’m not in the Mensa league but I do usually have some relatively decent smarts about me. Today I console myself with the fact that I have chipped my incisor tooth and it’s made sleep difficult. On top of that I love water and drink like 3 litres a day easily. Due to the tooth, this is rather painful and uncomfortable, so I have had to cut back. Therefore I may be dehydrated and this may be effecting my thinking. Or in this case lack of thinking.

The house we are renting is having its quarterly inspection tomorrow and so I am in a spin getting it spick and span. I don’t know why these darn inspections get me into such a flap but they do. I’d popped some pain relief pills this morning and whilst toddler was preoccupied with Play School I set about scrubbing things that are already clean. Just as the television program ended I felt a bursting desire to use the bathroom. I had in fact been putting it off for quite some time as parents do in the process of getting things done first. I abandoned tools and rush, no run to the loo. My cheeks had barely touched the seat when toddler starts screaming. I’ve been holding too long and got to finish. Since he’s crying, I know he must be relatively ok. I only need a minute anyway. As I stand up to flush I have that sinking thought and realization I have left my cleaning chemicals in the bathroom and that is where he must be. Rushing into the bathroom I find he has sprayed my rather toxic bleach cleaner all over the bathroom. He was wanting to be helpful and clean. In the process he has gotten a smidge in his eye. I need to wash his eye but this bleach is everywhere: on taps, in the bath, in the basin, all over the floor, on the windows and up the walls. It’s really quite amazing how much mess a little person can make in such a short time. I use my top to wipe his eye and clear the bath out to put him in. Ah clothes ruined, towels ruined, bathroom squeaky clean, toddler sparkly clean, crisis over and importantly toddler is fine.

Why on earth then would I tempt fate again? Everyone knows you never leave cooking unattended. Especially not sausages in a saucepan. So I cannot explain why I would leave them, on a low heat and go hang washing on the line. I made sure toddler came with me into the garage and locked the door behind me so he could not get back into the kitchen and possibly burn himself. I filled the washing basket and almost as soon as I stepped out the door, bang toddler slides the door closed and locks it. I’m locked outside, toddler is in the garage and sausages are in the pan. I start to panic almost instantly because I am more than aware how quickly this can all go exceptionally bad. I wasn’t worried so much about the house or our things in it as we have insurance. I am however worried about the toddler. I can see still see him and he isn’t silly, so I knock on the door and tell him to open it. He smiles at me and ignores me. He’s busy playing with my husband’s dangerous tools and lawn mower petrol. My banging and shouting must have started to freak him out because he ran away. I can no longer see where he is or what he’s doing but I tell myself to calm down. The sausages have only just been put on and my very sensitive smoke detector that loves announcing to my neighbors at 6am that I’ve burnt the toast isn’t going off so everything is ok. Just breathe and relax. I start hanging out some washing confident that toddler will then come back and I can then calmly ask him to open the door, possibly bribe him with promises of chocolate if necessary. Just as I peg the last little thing I smell smoke. There is no alarm going off so its ok I just have to get in. Panic starts to rise again as I bang on the door. Toddler is nowhere to be seen. Where could he be? What could he be getting into? I bang some more, mind racing on other options as the smoke alarm starts screaming. Thankfully it is this wonderful alarm that shakes toddler into action as he is now upset and concerned. He comes running to the door and opens it saying “Smoke mum.” I can’t quite remember what else he said as auto mode took over, scooped him up, locked him outside and took me into the kitchen. The kitchen is covered in thick black smoke and the sausages are on fire. A small fire but fire none the less. I turn the hotplates off and put a lid on top, smothering the fire and putting it out.

I am brought out of my auto mode fog by the sound of distressed toddler crying and banging the door. I’m not sure my vice grip bear hug was that reassuring but I was just so relieved he was ok and nothing had happened to him. Didn’t seem to bother him though as almost immediately he looks up at me with his big blue eyes and says, “Can we jump mum?” Oh yes honey we can. We can do whatever you want as I enjoy you being safe and sound. Just let mummy have a stiff drink first.

toddler sports

I’ve always wondered why kids indoor play center’s don’t sell Panadol or the likes. I mean supermarkets, milk bars, service stations and toilet vending machines do so I am sure they could too. There has been many at time at such places where I have certainly needed some or a whole packet even. Today was no exception. The weather was cold and raining so the place was heaving with yelling, squealing, screaming, laughing little people. Add on top of that the parents all chatting and shouting away and the air gun booming as it shoots foam balls in the ball area. That in itself is migraine material but this awesome place also has a separate skating rink complete with roller blading disco sessions. These skate sessions include lights flashing, music blaring and D.J. on microphone calling out instructions, praise, birthday wishes, competitions and all amounts of things. You could be forgiven in thinking as I do, there should even be a doctor on site to prescribe valium to keep the overreacting, highly strung, nerves on edge parents in check.

We sit there frazzled to the wick trying to enjoy a latte in relative peace whilst keeping track of our kids whereabouts and behavior. I hardly dare to blink as I watch my toddler like a hawk. In doing so you hear and see many terrible things. I guess at times we even do things we really wish we hadn’t. I am sure the mum who quickly snuck her daughter off to change her wee drenched pants really regrets not looking for where the ‘accident’ was released or even notifying staff of the occurrence. As does the Dad regret saying a whole chapter of trailer park trash type insults at the 3 y.o. that finally retaliated to an afternoon of torment from his feral behaving child. I regret some time ago pursuing my cheetah paced 2 y.o. up into some older age group play equipment in a skirt flashing the poor sods trying now not to vomit their latte’s. My only concern at the time was the kids safety but it was pointless as I couldn’t keep up with him and as soon as he squeezed through the rollers I had to watch him vanish into the mesh of tunnels and steps and hope for the best. I did enjoy the slide back down so it wasn’t all a waste.

Today I witnessed something completely new. ‘Toddler ten pin’ as it was named by the table of adults behind me. I bet you can guess what the aim of the game is but daren’t think it could be real, but oh yes to these cruel excuses for individuals it’s a great sport. They had older age children that they were egging on and almost forcing to go up into the play equipment or out onto the skate rink and try and knock over as many kids as possible. There was a points system and bonuses for tears shed or as they termed it ‘chubby chaps’. Yup I know, disgusting, appalling, abhorrent and just down right wrong. So what did I do about it? Confront the group of clearly lovely individuals 8 -1? Noooo! I mean how could I and really what would that achieve. I guess in hindsight I could’ve notified staff but that thought just didn’t penetrate my throbbing head. Instead I went about accidently on purpose tripping, knocking, bumping and even spilling a drink on this table of adults. I in turn made their time as unbearable as possible. Twenty odd minutes after I started my barrage in pure frustration this company of creeps left the building. My head ache may not have dissipated but the sense of triumph I had certainly overrode it. Toddler Ten Pin Coaches 0 – Em The Clumsy Gem 1.

the V word

I talk a lot. To everyone and anyone. I love a good chat and I guess this is why people talk to me. To my closer friends this however is known as me being a ‘Mong Magnet’. For the most part it really doesn’t bother me. I enjoy hearing about people and their stories. I don’t mind them sharing their problems or confiding in me and I have learnt a lot from these conversations over the times. There are however times where that invisible boundary of courtesy and decency is crossed and I am left in complete bewilderment.

For example I met a man for the first time recently and within the first five minutes of meeting him he told me he was always told he’d never be able to have kids. Then explained very specifically why this was so. OK that was enough for me to start backing away but he kind of followed and discussed the genius that are testicles. Thanks for sharing not something I was really thinking about since I was still trying to figure out how I'd somehow gotten onto the topic of genitals. He is a nice guy and all, just not something I needed to know.

Today however was even worse. I had to go to the GP to get some paper work done. Couple weeks ago I spent the 2.5 hours wait I had there talking to a lovely lady whose son had a great time playing with mine. So when a seemingly nice lady struck up conversation with me today I had no hesitation in reciprocating. Things all went terribly pear shaped about 3 minutes in when she said to me “I’m here for my vagina.” Yes I know she said the V word. That’s ok I can say it, I can talk about it, I have no issues with the human body. I just reply “Oh, OK,” and hope to leave it at that. But oh NO she elaborated on to tell me about all the discharge and smell and pimples and ok enough you get the idea, then asked my opinion on to what it could be. As I am trying to delete this hideous alien puss filled image from my retina’s I simply say “I have no idea. Never had anything wrong with my Vagina.” I then did the whole pretend vibrating phone, urgent message, gotta go routine. Made rushed farewells and as I headed for the door she calls out to the whole doctors surgery “Glad your vagina is ok.” Yes it definitely is but mentally, I am permanently scarred.

vacation from life

http://www.dreamexoticrentals.com/properties/Islands/vacation-belize-island.htm

My vacation from life would be on a gorgeous secluded island somewhere far from home. I would not take my husband or kids or friends, whom I love and enjoy dearly but do not want the pressure of having to socialize or even talk with. I will have no newspapers or magazines, but there will good reads in a library. There will be no television but an option of a movie if I desire. I will not take any computer devices or my phone, it will be as if I had dropped it into the toilet. I will have no direct connection to the outside world. There will be a way of contacting me in an emergency but I don’t have to bother myself with worrying how.

From the moment I step onto the soft sugar sand I will no longer be a mother or a wife. It will be as if I have dropped all cloaks of conformity and regained my free inhibited self that I once was. I will not care if the dog is fed, the uniforms are washed, the groceries are bought, the house is clean, the washing done, the kids are getting to school and activities, the bills are being paid or that I had remembered to reply to that call/message/text.

I will not have to concern myself with any food responsibilities. There will be no planning, no shopping, no packing, no preparation, no unpacking, no cooking at all in fact. There will be someone easy on the eye who will magically appear and disappear to take care of that. He will also make amazing cocktails and be at my beck and call. This person could in fact be my husband who’s had cooking and Mills & Boon type seduction lessons before coming to the island to sweep me off my feet into bliss. He will also be pretending to be a gorgeous stranger since I am not actually married and not obliged to spend any time with him. Otherwise I may also have a hall pass and so this would not matter. Or I will simply enjoy the pampering, flattery and the view without any other delights. He will clean any spills or breakages I may have and be able to rescue me if I become tangled in my hammock. This however is not a Mills & Boon novel or granny porno as you may know it and so romance is not the point of my journey. It could in fact just cause headaches and maybe diseases.

Of course there will be spa treatments readily available so I may enjoy a massage by the beach under the stars or a pedicure in the banana lounge under a palm tree. Someone to wash and brush my hair while I enjoy the sunset with said cocktails. To even wash my back if i cannot be bothered with as much as this. I think of the movie, Coming to America and the royal bathers.

There will be music so I may dance like no ones watching because no one is. Or so I may laze on the beach dreaming away listening to something wonderful.

There will be no alarms or clocks except for the setting of the sun and rising of the moon and no not my moon as I'm swimming the one in the sky. If I have chosen to do something at a specific time like diving, someone will merely come and advise me it is time.

The island will be all mine and so I may explore at my own leisure and wear nothing but the ocean breeze if I want. There will be no one to see if I happen to flash or spill things on myself. Skinny dipping will be completely acceptable in the crystal clear blue ocean and no tourist boats shall pass by.

For a moment in time I will be in heaven on Earth before the inevitable return to reality.

http://www.buenavistaislandresort.com/index.html

first impressions

Why is it that the mornings you wake up and wanna cover your head with the blanket and not face the day that seem to always go pear shaped? Go the kids to school on time and then headed off to a new playgroup. One of the mums who’s kid is friends with my school boys told me about it and I thought would be great to get to know her for future play dates. After school drop off I had 45mins to kill. Found where the playgroup was and drove to Woolies to pick up something for the mums for morning tea. Whilst there the mum told me there is a roster for that so not to worry so let my well behaved toddler chose a drink. He was like an angel at the supermarket, did what he was asked, no tantrums and no touching. Get to the checkout to pay the $1.70 for his little drink to discover I have left my purse at home. How stupid and how embarrassing. Toddler is shattered he can’t have his drink and starts bawling his gorgeous eyes out. I’m not sure if the embarrassment or the disappointment is worse. So we get in the car to drive the 15 mins home and get my purse so I can pay for playgroup. This now makes us late for playgroup kick off but I’m not too fussed about that. Turns out as a new member I get to go three times before I have to pay anyway.

Riley has not had a toilet accident in so long I can’t even remember when the last time was. Today however he of course wets his pants right in the middle of everything. I forget the coffee I’m having and dash to clean him and the puddle before another kid slips in it, one kid, not my own, was enough. Dealing with that my abandoned coffee is knocked over and burns a kids finger. Over to that incident I dash, slip on the clean but wet floor. Hobble over to the lovely mum and check burnt finger is ok and apologize profusely. Things settle for about five mins before toddler comes running over with a picture that he’s ripped off and ruined some other kids art work. Way to make a good impression.

After playgroup we head back to the supermarket to get that promised treat from earlier. Once inside toddler does two consecutive massive sneezes and has a disgusting nose. I have my purse but of course nappy bag is in the car. Without a tissue at hand he thinks it’s a great idea to then smear his nose from the top of my thigh down to the knee just as another mum from playgroup turns down the aisle. I think John is right I should shop online and use my web cam for toddler to have play dates. Snail trail leg is so gross.