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| Refer to last week’s post for a funny pic / excellent cake design |
Alternatively titled – It’s the little things
Alternatively alternatively titled – It’s been a slow week
Alternatively alternatively alternatively titled – Because I can
Recycled alternatives from the last post because I’m an alternative kind of girl.
Not really.
Because I stuffed up and they are totally more appropriate on this post.
And they kind of almost make sense on this one. As opposed to the previous one.
Following on from my previous post of woe, I bring you part 2.
So in light of recent shitty events, I was in need of a little pick me up.
Since wine was, tragically, not cutting it – I had to resort to other measures.
Including copious viewing of Facebook and You Tube clips, since I have exhausted all of my Foxtel recordings.
One such clip was of a Cesarean section where the bub was allowed to ease its own way out once the incision was made and the head was out.
It was truly delightful, touching, sweet, and also slightly gross since I was eating dinner at the same time.
Mstr7 came over to see what I was doing, and I was too engrossed in it all to even consider that maybe it wasn’t the kind of thing he’d usually view.
No matter, he hung around, watched the full 5 minutes of joyous wonderment alongside me whilst displaying a number of entertaining facial expressions, before finally asking exactly what he was watching.
So I told him it was a c-section, which was how he and his twin sister were born, since they were the wrong way around to come out the normal way (I then very quickly moved on to explaining what a breech position is, before he could ask what the normal exit path was for a baby….I just couldn’t).
In the interests of accuracy and full disclosure, I explained that, in my case, the second baby came out next.
In the interests of accuracy and full disclosure, I explained that, in my case, the second baby came out next.
And then, just for the fun of it, just because I could – I told him that he was born first, exactly 5 minutes before Miss7.
It played out nothing like I’d expected it would.
He was not remotely jazzed by the idea of being a whole 5 minutes older.
She was not remotely pissed by the idea of being a whole 5 minutes younger.
Fingers crossed it has the desired / expected effect when they’re a little older and every single second of age counts.
I was disappointed. Let down.
I admit, I had attempted to enact sibling anarchy and failed.
Before you judge – this took place while #1Hubby was away working in Noumea.
I know, right? As if anyone goes there to work. If I didn’t manage our bank accounts I’d be convinced he’d booked his own junket just to get away from all the awesomeness that is our family unit / his workplace (he works from home, lucky guy!).
Anywho, on top of everything else that has happened recently, it was just an utterly shit 5 minutes of my day….
We were eating dinner at home, freezing cold (not in a hotel in Noumea, fancy wanky cocktail in hand).
And, the kids were whining and faux vomiting over the injustice that is being served broccoli and cabbage in the same meal.
And, I was all woeful over my current lack oftaste wine-buds meaning I could not self-medicate my own way through the horror of cabbage, leading by example and masking the yuck-ness of it.
And, at that exact moment in the whole dinner process, the cat decided to become a serial killer, bringing in a very large dead rodent – either a ginormous mouse or a fairly impressive rat.
And, he chose to bat it around in full view, under our glass topped dinner table, fuelled by our yelps, squealing and gagging.
And, I had to man-up and attempt to calmly sweep the rodent outside while barking at the kids to STFU and eat their bloody cabbage and be thankful for it, because there are many starving rodents out there who would love the chance to eat it….
So, you know, I think I did pretty well. All things considered.
#1Hubby has since returned home. Scared to show his tropical island tan. Happy to parent.
I’ve enjoyed a weekend of sleeping in.
I’m all geared up for another week of attempting to regain my wine buds.
Fingers crossed.
He was not remotely jazzed by the idea of being a whole 5 minutes older.
She was not remotely pissed by the idea of being a whole 5 minutes younger.
Fingers crossed it has the desired / expected effect when they’re a little older and every single second of age counts.
I was disappointed. Let down.
I admit, I had attempted to enact sibling anarchy and failed.
Before you judge – this took place while #1Hubby was away working in Noumea.
I know, right? As if anyone goes there to work. If I didn’t manage our bank accounts I’d be convinced he’d booked his own junket just to get away from all the awesomeness that is our family unit / his workplace (he works from home, lucky guy!).
Anywho, on top of everything else that has happened recently, it was just an utterly shit 5 minutes of my day….
We were eating dinner at home, freezing cold (not in a hotel in Noumea, fancy wanky cocktail in hand).
And, the kids were whining and faux vomiting over the injustice that is being served broccoli and cabbage in the same meal.
And, I was all woeful over my current lack of
And, at that exact moment in the whole dinner process, the cat decided to become a serial killer, bringing in a very large dead rodent – either a ginormous mouse or a fairly impressive rat.
And, he chose to bat it around in full view, under our glass topped dinner table, fuelled by our yelps, squealing and gagging.
And, I had to man-up and attempt to calmly sweep the rodent outside while barking at the kids to STFU and eat their bloody cabbage and be thankful for it, because there are many starving rodents out there who would love the chance to eat it….
So, you know, I think I did pretty well. All things considered.
#1Hubby has since returned home. Scared to show his tropical island tan. Happy to parent.
I’ve enjoyed a weekend of sleeping in.
I’m all geared up for another week of attempting to regain my wine buds.
Fingers crossed.