House Husbands & Hot Doctors

This week has been a mixed bag; since I haven't written in AGES I'll fill you in.......

House Husband

• Hubby was a casual at a grain silo ..... promised the earth and they delivered NADA .... with a 'Don't come Monday' thrown in one Friday afternoon a few months ago. (Thanks very much for the notice mofo's!!!)
• Since then I've been primary wage slave and let me tell you - Admin pays diddly squat - Economising has become my friend; so much so I buy wine in LITRES .... yes friends I now drink wine from a cask! What once I ridiculed; I now envelope as my new BFF. (a BFF who sometimes gives me a headache!)
• I now have my own' house husband' - and whilst the 'thought' of that is hilarious the reality is him ringing me 32 times a day with updates of Miss 1yo's nappy contents/ Master 3yo's new vocab addition swear word or Mister 14yo's latest love letter dropped in his bag. 
• Being told after a long day at work 'That poop is yours - I've done 3 today' is shitehouse (pardon the pun)..... I used to say that to him all the time! I have no comeback for this; and I tip my hat at him for throwing my own lines back at me. Touche.
• He is doing a better job than I EVER did as house person.... washing is done, kids are happy, bathed, fed and in clean clothes (tad anal my hubby -I would def leave babies in vegemite crusty clothes all day), and dinner is on or planned. FFS - infuriating much?!

Hot Doctor

Hubby actually got called for a few hours work on Tuesday - my RDO .... unfortunately that was the SAME day he'd made appointment for Miss 1yo's needles. I may or may not have said to him 'Convenient much? You've never had to see them have needles' - to which he replied: 'Reschedule; I'll happily do it' (despite his super fear of needles).

I decided to live up to my 'supermum' status and take Miss 1yo, Master 3yo and his mate (also 3 who I look after on Tuesdays) on our 'adventure' despite kind offer from hubby.

Expecting the midwife to do the deed; I was pleasantly surprised and elated when the new, young and yes... quite handsome doctor invited us in so he could give Miss 1yo her needles *swoon* (also thanking self for wearing slimming jeans instead of usual heinous track pants).

Hot Dr was very chatty and gave Miss 1yo her needles in a super professional manner whilst I held her and tried my hardest to fight my inner swooning and blushes. (Can anyone say epic fail much).

When it was all over I asked when her next lot were due (please soon... please soon!); 4years old was the answer ... bad mummy moment ....inner cursing.... hoping for a reason to see Mr Hot Dr again soon.

The appointment ended and I reluctantly trudged the children out of there.
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This story would have ended now .... except I happen to work for a public hospital..... and said Hot Dr see's patients there.......

It so happened I saw him roaring up to A & E the next day in his sports car and I may or may not have  found a reason to make my way up  to that department, in the hope of seeing him again. I  may or may not have fluffed my hair and put lippy on.
I did not see him.

SIGH.... I may not be the housewife any more but dang I'm still more than able to act the bored housewife part!

Toddler vs Teenage Terrorists

Forgive me blogworld it has been weeks since my last post. I'm now working 4 days a week and have been struck down a couple of times with terrible sickness. The latest; a lovely bout of gastro - ah relief I can now choose whether to vomit or poop ..... rather than both simultaneously! (oh yes..... TMI alert!!!)

However; the wine fridge has never looked so stocked - nor hubby so shocked at my utter lack of desire for my nightly tipple.

Anyway - it's been a fast and furious last few weeks and in between my moans of 'Oh god I feel like shit' from the coach I have been watching my DSS and 2yo son and their ways and I have become convinced that I am living with real life terrorists! I'm sure this is no fever induced hallucination either - it is REAL. As real as the 'Clever Sharp' ads on  TV and the 'Ahh Bra'.... oh yes.... I'm talking 'reality real'.

Following are the cases against each 'guilty' party..... you decide who is 'worst'.

Master 2:

Master 2 is renowned for 'handbag raids'. I have taken to putting my bag in places I hope he will not find (and unfortunately....a few times I've forgotten where I've hidden it also). If he is ever quiet we can be almost 100% sure that he is somewhere in the house with my handbag going through the contents and trying everything out...

• Trying on all my lipsticks/ lipglosses and losing the lid in his efforts to remain incognito - hence now my lipsticks and lipglosses now coat my lips with old muesli bar bits, tissue fluff and smell suspiciously of old banana.
• When master 2 was 15mo he very cleverly managed to get the lid off my acetone nailpolish remover and poured it in my makeup drawer - the entire lot melted. In hindsight - yes I'm glad he didn't drink it, but FFS - he can't won't put his toys away (or do anything else I ask him to do)....!
• The other day I went to get chewing gum out of my handbag and discovered that he had sprayed my entire 'handy handbag sized' perfume all over my gum . NOTE: I did not find this out until I chewed said chewing  gum. Disgusting doesn't even cover it!
• Telling me today he had a poo present ..... erm.... NO poo is a 'present' (suspect he got this term from his father!)

DSS 14yo (yes he's now 14!!)

• Asking me if it's hot or cold weather and if he should wear a jacket and pants or shorts and a t-shirt .... erm sorry but that's up to personal preference .... stop being so darn lazy and check outside - do YOU feel hot or cold?
• NOT asking if friends can come over and just rocking up with them after school and asking me when they're right in front of my face. And when I say no I sometimes get a 'Oh; should I ring Dad and ask him them'.....FFS!!!
• Asking me a question and when I answer it I get a 'yeah I know' response. Sorry pal but if you knew - you wouldn't have asked would ya?

• The worst bit at the moment - and the bain of my life is being ignored or getting the grunt .... I thought the grunt was a myth as DSS was a very chatty child - but no.... it is real! DSS is currently being stalked by 2 Year 7 girls and I offered my advice and opinion very casually (and in a 'cool, hip' way also!) - but was flat out ignored. (this is not a first for being ignored - everytime hubby isn't here i'm banished from the lounge room and am not spoken to at all).
  
  I want to tell him: 'I wasn't always this old... I was once a teenage girl also... I know what I'm talking about you know!' Although - having said that, despite having my fair share of crushes in year 7 I certainly didn't dress up in street-walker-esque garb and parade out the front of my crushes home and yell his name. Today they even knocked on the door! The gall of the little jezebels!
  
  If they do it tomorrow I may just have to shock them out of their little cotton socks - I'm not sure what....but I'll think of something.
  
  I've told hubby I'm going to teach Master 2 to call them DSS's Floozy's. Unfortunately DSS heard me and was less than impressed! RATS - now he'll ignore me.... oh hang on - he already was!
  
  Evil Stepmother? Yep.....(why break such a great cliche?) Over it? DEFINATELY!

Positively Embarressing Week

This week has been pretty hilarious in general. A lot of it is incredibly embarressing but share and share alike I say. I'm pretty sure I'm the biggest dag I know and therefore I have no shame. Well that's not true; I do have shame. But I relish the idea that I'm 'only human' and these experiences will keep me giggling until I'm well and truly old and crotchety or at least until the children turn 18 and I can embarress them in equal measures (not that I don't do a good enough job of that myself).

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BARBIE FASHIONISTA

The very demurely dressed 'Ms Fashionista'

This week yet ANOTHER Barbie prize turned up - a Barbie Fashionista. As the packaging was damaged I decided to keep it (rather than regift or sell) and gave to the kids to play with. Also I'm trying in vain to teach Master 2 some gentle role play. Instead of the same old 'dinosaur bite you - you BLEED!' garb.

Upon Master 2 waking from his afternoon nap I introduced him to his new 'dolly' and he was very excited much to manly man hubby's disappointment. I undid it from it's packaging (harder than it seems let me tell you!) and handed it over after repetitious 'Hurry up Mummy I want Dolly' comments from Master 2. 

For the uninitiated; the Fashionista doll sings a very catchy (not to mention brain numbing) song about being a 'Fashionista'. Maybe it's just me because I live in tracksuit pants but my GOD she's scantily clad. Perspex skirt, corset (that lights up) and 'eff me' boots - and a Microphone of course because she's a superstar. Anyway whilst taking the Fashionista out of her packaging I happened to notice that it appears she's wearing a G-String!!! See photo below. I did the Marge Simpson 'Hmmmm' and decided to say nothing.




I may not have worn a G for some time.... but perlease... that is a G!



Despite my best attempts to show him how to make Ms Fashionista walk and how she'd maybe like to go to do pee pee's on the toilet (Master 2 is so uninterested in becoming toilet trained it's starting to worry me), or she might like to help pick up his toys; Master 2 had other ideas. The little feral decided that the microphone was a Ninga whacking stick and proceeded to belt Barbie with it and sing 'Fighting-ista'.

After 30 minutes of this carry-on hubby got jack of it singing it's head off and asked for a 'look'. Within half a second he yells out 'Babe; Barbie's wearing a g-string' (I didn't own up to knowing already - instead taking the shocked 'WHAT?!' approach). He then told Master 2 that Barbie needs an operation and proceeded to remove the batteries from her inner thigh. *Sigh* if only he could remove such large masses from MY thighs (and arse)!

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HOT NEIGHBOUR

This story is for one of my BFF's 'Ms K'.... A few weeks ago when our car broke down she dropped the kids and I home after work. As we were driving up the hill she slowed to a snails pace and huskily asked 'WHO.... is..... THAT?' about a nearby resident doing some manly chores out the front of their house.

Let me paint the picture for you - this guy is ripped; from what I can tell he works in construction and loves gardening as his front yard is immaculate. He lives with a wife/ partner and at least 1 child but that does not stop me checking his shit out when I drive past. And he practically advertises; I mean who does gardening in a singlet/ no top and jeans......? An ex Chipmunk I'm sure! But who's complaining? ......Not me!

Anyway the other day on the drive back from 'town' he was behind me in his car (a beaten up old 4wd that didn't go very fast), usually I'm a bit of a 'speed demon' in our V8. To clarify; I don't go over the speed limit but I'm incredibly impatient so I won't go under it either. However on this day I decided to slow right down, crank the tunes, put the windows down and check out my rear-vision mirror. BAD idea.

The drive to our house has a steep hill with lots of winding roads, so instead of concentrating on what I was doing; I was singing Maroon 5 at the top of my lungs and trying to catch sight of a glistening bicep. PHROAR. It was all good until I hit a speed bump in the middle of the road and briefly lost control (of the wheel and my bladder) - thank god there were no cars coming the other way.

I composed myself and carried on; getting my last quick fix before heading off home - only to see Mister Chipmunk crack himself laughing. I can't be sure it was at me (I mean he could have been on the phone and somone told a joke!) But.... I'm pretty sure it was at my ridiculousness. I told you I was the daggiest person anyone could know!

Ms K and I have resolved to start a new exercise regime which consists of walking up and back the steep hill Mister Chipmunk lives on. I'm pretty sure this will be our most successful health kick to date!

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BAG RAID

Not sure if other people's toddlers do this; but Master 2 LOVES to nick off with my handbag and find 'treasures'. Hubby insists it's a phase as he refuses to even look for the car keys in my bag in fear of what he may find/ the amount of shit he has to sift through to find them!

Regularly I will find the contents of my bag strewn the length of the lounge room and Master 2 quivering in excitement in the corner putting 'lips' on (lip gloss/ lip stick). In fact only today I saw him hastily applying MY roll-on deoderant to his cheeks and lips ....YUCK!

This afternoon - after doing some shopping with all kiddies; we were on the home straight and ready to make dinner. From the back seat I hear 'What the BLOODY hell has he got?!' from DSS (13yo)..... I looked behind and there Master 2 was triumphantly waving a tampon he'd fished out of my bag! For a few moments I was utterly speechless (almost unheard of!) then I let fly: 'Master 2. STOP. GETTING. THINGS. OUT. OF. MY. BAG!'

Because Miss Muffet (6mo) was in the centre seat she must have thought I was yelling at her so she started crying (a cry I've never heard before - a scared cry), then Master 2 cried (certainly not from fear because he disobeys me daily despite begging, yelling, screaming). We spent the trip home with 2 crying babies and DSS sweetly holding Miss Muffet's hand; not making eye contact with me (still hasn't made eye contact actually). I explained to DSS that it was 'unused' but he made no response; hubby however said 'Well, we can see that!!'

What makes it worse is after telling hubby about my how humiliated I was at having my sanitary items waved in all our faces; he told me 'That's ok; it's character building'..... er.... nothing character building is 'good'...!!!!

Hope you all have a brilliant week; To Love To Laughter, To Happily Ever After!