Thursday, May 20, 2010

Shape - Of - Le - Pear

Often, I write little notes around the house on scraps of paper, as the muse visits me. Because I am Artistic like that. Today I found a shopping list which read- above the lentils and the denture paste- the phrase 'lady mayor of crazytown'. It sums up how things have been around here for the last few days.

Keith went to Canberra, it started to rain and Ivy and Ted got a croupey, snotty virus. Not the lethargic, cuddly kind (oh, my kingdom for the good virus...) but rather the irritable, clingy, I-want-the-toilet-roll-that's my toilet roll-Mummy-Teddy took my toilet rooooooool version.

W e spent the day inside, in various pursuits, while I did that dance where you try and keep twenty minutes ahead of the meltdown curve. Oh, My, God it's a tiring old two-step.

We spent some floor time with the Bingo markers, and the Spot books.

In the dress-ups, Ted eyed the Cinderella cloak with covetous plans.

Dressing-up isn't over until you actually empty all the baskets and voyage inside, until the only sign of you is a tiny, determined fist.
We turned the lounge-room into an obstacle course, my desperate attempt to use up some of the holed-up-inside energy. Sleep tonight, offspring, I prayed silently as I urged faster, you guys! Don't get eaten by the floor-crocodiles!

Basket of blocks: check. Basket of animals: check. Mix. Repeat. Grow bored and move to another area. Reply to your mothers suggestion that you clean up with 'I can't. I've got a so bad sickness, Mummy.'

Ivy and Ted both helped with the vacuuming.

Ted eyed off the bread - success! Sadly, no pics survive of the failed chicken soup that nobody would eat.

Hats give speed when you race the corridor in your little bikes, and they make your towers higher. Everybody knows that.

Cutting practice was a really, really good game. Twenty happy minute and lots of fruit-eating.

This craft project, on the other hand (oil water, crayon shavings) was an abject failure. I think that naming this game Sexy Bottles might indicate that my mental capacity was flagging.

Thank God for Play School.

The next day, Ted took his virus and raised the stakes. After I spent a sleepless night with a coughing, wheezing, crying little buddy, I took him to the doc who diagnosed pretty serious bronchitis and prescribed antibiotics, steroids and Ventolin. There's no photos, funnily, of the moment I wept in the chemist as the pharmacist tried to explain how to attach the scary mask inhaler while Ted fought with all his might to get out of my arms so he could sweep all the band-aid boxes off the shelf again. Ivy was indignant. She stood at the counter and announced repeatedly 'But I am so, sick sick as well!'

He's a little stronger today. That is to say that he found enough abdominal muscle to vomit all over his car-seat after the pre-school drop-off. I have decided to see this as a sign or recovery.

Finally, I got an email from my editor calling my latest submission, 'Funny in parts, but disjointed overall'. I think I may take it as the title of my memoirs.


  1. I'm so for laughing but you do have a way with words! I know this scene so well, sick kids, chaos, Playschool, oh the days of toddlers and vomit! Hope Ted makes a speedy recovery, poor sick Ivy too. Take care beautiful x

  2. So funny, but not funny. I hope poor Teddy feels better soon. And his poor mummy. And of course Ivy-cakes, because word about town is that she is very ill too.

    Sending your little family lots of healing healthy thoughts.


    PS. Loving those knitted jumpers!

  3. Ooooh, poor you! It's so hard with sick little people I do feel for you. I must say it looks like you are the queen of keeping sick little people happily occupied though! I hope your babies are well very soon...

  4. Keith always misses out on the fun! How uncool.

    I'd buy your memoirs if they were so titled.

    Get well soon little ones (and hurry back Keith, fun should always be shared)

  5. SEND ME YOUR ADDRESS GODDAMNIT ( cause you MAMA, need some LOVE.


    (ps: it's been a SHIT week with sickness at our house too (seems to be the same virus, but with just one child) and I have been drinking TONIGHT and somehow I ate a whole packet of jam tartlet biscuits, but feel no regret yet. Maybe at dawn. DrMr is going to Moscow in a month, how will I cope?)

    (pps: seriously, please send me your address. I want to send something to you, because I think you are ACE and I definitely think sometimes something nice and random in the mail is a good thing)

  6. I hope your little darlings are better soon.

  7. Oooooh, lady. Just like everyone else said, I hope it's all about health at your house today. Photos are tops. I'm very impressed that there's one of Ted and Ivy colouring in the *same* book at the *same* time. Your Mummy Manual must be a different edition to mine.

  8. 'Funny in parts, but disjointed overall'. If you decide not to use it, I've got dibs. Hope all is well in Crazytown, and that the Lady Mayor is holding her own.


Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.