Why is the biggest "man" in my life my 4 year old son?

My 4 year old has had gastro for the past 2 nights and I have had the pleasure of changing his bedclothes 876 times, washing 9874 loads of laundry, and soaking various towels covered in the most potently awful combinations of bodily fluids known to man (and child).
While my partner has done some conciliatory “man-upping”, I have still been the one to bear the bulk of the sick child load (as a mum does). So my sleep allotment has dwindled down to about 3 out of the past 76 hours. The night before that, my 2 year old had decided that sleep was so passé and had kept me awake all night, regaling me for hours with scintillating tales of his toe, and kindly reminding me constantly what my name was, just in case I had developed sudden amnesia.
Which brings us to today, Saturday, and I am in dire need of cleaning up my sick hovel. My wonderful MIL came over to help fold the Himalayan mountain range of laundry I have accrued over the past couple of days, but the rest of the house has been neglected owing to needy sick kid.
I asked my partner for help, but when ever I tried to find him to help me with anything, he was either off having a cigarette, having a coffee or listening to the horse racing (in the meantime, I’d re-heated my one cup of coffee 8 times already and didn’t even know it was Derby Day).
I was exhausted, so when he jumped in the shower I told him I was going for a nap. This was fine by him, so I settled into bed and closed my eyes. He then came in, got dressed and announced that he was going to his father’s house (he is his father’s carer and has to go there most days to look after him).
Why did he choose to go right then? Did he think that I could nap while I have one vomiting child and a crazy, not-sick-at-all 2 year old?
So, I got back out of bed, and as he backed down the driveway I exploded into tears.
I heard my sick son call to me then. I went into his room and smiled down at my beautiful, blonde, sunken eyed angel.
While I was unsuccessfully trying to hide my tears he asked, “What’s wrong Mummy?”
“Mummy’s just a bit tired honey, and I’m just trying to clean the house”.
“Don’t worry about me then Mummy. I’ll look after myself, and you just do the cleaning”, he told me through his pale cracked lips.
I hugged him tight before he could see me crying again, and only untangled myself because he needed to be sick again.
My sick, yet still gorgeous, 4 year old was selflessly offering me help.
I stroked his forehead, and told him that he was a beautiful boy with a wonderful soul, and that I would let the entire house rot and go mouldy before I would ever do housework before looking after him.
We then had a little giggle about living in a mouldy rotten house before I left his room and let him sleep again.

This is my boy.

I just know that he will grow up to be a wonderful man.

Fictitious characters of fiction.

On my trip to the Op Shop this week I purchased some brown corduroy pants, an orange and brown check shirt and a brown itchy woollen tie. I know, I know, I can just hear the seething of jealousy issuing forth from you all, as you marvel at my fashion forwardness!

But alas, this purchase wasn’t for me, it was for my 4 year old son, and it was to be his costume for the literature festival his kindergarten were to be involved with. He was going to go as Fantastic Mr Fox.

I assumed that since it was a literary festival, that the children would be dressed as a fictional character from a book. But after a week of planning, I woke up that morning to a very disagreeable 4 year old, that was now refusing to be fox-face painted, and demanding to be bedecked as Batman...Oh yes... Batman. Such a famous literary figure he was! Wasn’t he was a character in Dickens? A Tale of Two Cities if I remember rightly. A classic!

I sighed (dying a little inside, as I had had majestic visions of my son in all his brown-itchy-woollen-tie-splendour), got him into his trusty Batman costume, and set off for kinder.

As we got to his school, I was confronted by all the famous fictitious characters of fiction you’ve never met.

There was another two obvious Dickens fans, both who were dressed as Superman.I am happy to report that I did see a “Cleopatra” from Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra.

There was also "Oscar", who I'm sure is from the Peter Carey classic Oscar and Lucinda.

But my favourite costume of the day was the greatest character from literary fiction ever, from Shakespeare’s:

It was great to see so many great characters from books in the one place!

I have been inspired as to what to dress the kids up as for the next festival we go to. I would like my son to go as that wonderful character from the Samuel Taylor Coleridge poem:

“In Xanadu did Buzz Lightyear

A stately pleasure-dome decree”

Do you ever have grandiose ideas for your kids dress ups only for them to foil your plans?

Oops, I fell off the wwwagon.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to stutter, but over the weekend I fell off the Weight Watchers wagon that I had kind of hitched myself to.
I fell off the WW wagon and was hit by another wagon, one laden with hot jam donuts and pizza.

(Identikit image of wagon as described by victim)
 

I was sick and needed comfort food. I was seduced by the sugary, jammy, vixen of plump doughy delights. She called to me when my guard was down, I had a moment of weakness...I was held at gunpoint and made to eat it...My dog ate all my healthy food... I was hallucinating and thought it was an apple...
I can come up with all the excuses in the world, but in the end, my willpower was weak, and I succumbed to temptation.
I am definitely a comfort food eater, so when I’m not feeling well I tend to go for the worst things that are around me.
My dad came for a visit and bought my boys two big bags of jam donuts. While the boys were hopped up on jammy goodness I accidentally picked up a donut, and it made its way into my mouth somehow (do donuts have jet-packs too?)...another one following it a bit later. The next day pizza was mentioned at some point in time, and all hopes at getting back on track dissolved in daydreams of that wonderful land full of cheese and carbs.
So, today is Monday, a new day, a new week, and a chance to redeem myself. I wasn’t completely run over by that wagon. I’ll just have to pick myself up, dust myself off and start again.


Have you fallen off the wagon when dieting? Do you completely abandon the diet, or do you re-start it the next day (or next week)?

From the files of Captain Obvious

 “Now is the winter of our discontent”.

Actually, no that’s wrong. Now is the springtime of my discontent, my discontented nostrils.

Having once again been attacked by some vicious pollen menace last night, I was feeling rather snuffly, so I went to the cupboard and got out my trusty “Nasal Decongestant spray”. After sticking it up each nostril and spraying liberally, I looked at the spray bottle, which read “Decongestant Nasal Spray - For the relief of nasal decongestion”. 

Phew, I’m sure glad I picked that bottle, instead of the other bottle of “Decongestant Nasal Spray -For the relief of Third World Hunger”. I’d still be feeling stuffed up, had I have used THAT one!

I love how packages not only tell you what you have, but they love explaining what it’s for as well. Just in case you buy something at the supermarket, take it home and spend the next 3 weeks circling it, giving it “the puzzled eyebrow”, not really quite sure what it is. Then, full of anxiety, you ambush that strange product in the middle of the night, wrap it in newspaper and shove it down the bottom of the bin, never to speak of it again.

Take my packet of Cous Cous for instance. It says “Perfect with Vegetables, meat & fish”. I’m glad that was written on there, or else I would have thought it was perfect for pouring into a bathtub full of whiskey, and go snorkelling in it wearing a terry towelling jumpsuit.

I only wish I had have read this container of oil before I went and lubricated the neighbours chimney. Ok then, salads and cooking it is!

And lastly, let me tell you of my Cling Wrap journey. “Seals in freshness, to keep food fresher longer”. I had only read “Seals”, and then got distracted. I was halfway to Antarctica before someone handed me the Cling Wrap packet to read again.

The odiousness of obviousness is everywhere!

Have you encountered obviousness lately?

 

Wordy Wednesday With Waterfalls, Winnebagos and a Windsock (Ok, I lied about the Waterfalls, Winnebagos and Windsock)

...But  I do have a picture of Rollers skates!

Inspired by Lori over at RRSAHM, her awesome clown shoes and her “I Can’t f@#king shut up Wednesday”.

The one thing I can’t shut the f#@k up about is Roller Skating and Roller Derby.

These are my roller skates. I never did the whole rollerblading...*thing* of the 90’s, I have always had roller skates, and these are my babies I have for Roller Derby. Oh, and stripy socks are a must.

So here is my ”Whatever the f#@k you want to call it Wednesday” pic, with words too.

WW Snackdown!

Hello, I am Voluptacon.

*Able to leap 12 Matchbox cars in a single bound (without getting sharp bits in my feet).

*Faster than a speeding toddler on LGC #.

*Be amazed at the fact that I am able to co-habit my loungeroom with 4 large spiders.

*Watch my dynamic pelvic floor as I jump on the trampoline.

*Be astounded at my amazing gag reflex as I change diabolical nappies.

I have only one mortal enemy...and that is...

Snacks!

Snacks are my lifelong sworn enemy.

They know all my weak spots (hips and thighs) and attack viciously and mercilessly.

Once upon a time I used to be a smoker, which seemed to be like a magical force shield to snacks. Snacks were able to be kept at bay whilst I had that smoky pacifier in my mouth. But after quitting smoking due to a chronic case of pregnancy, I didn’t have that force shield (that somewhat unhealthy and slightly detrimental force shield) anymore.

So, I am having to devise a new plan of attack to combat these tasty terrorists, these flavoursome foe, these scrumptious saboteurs of my widening waistline.

I have decided to wrestle my enemy via WW (put that) Snackdown!

I am going to be using Weight Watchers to eliminate bad snacking. Instead of reaching for the block of chocolate or the box of BBQ Shapes, I am now going to be devising my own Weight Watchers friendly snacks...and I have already discovered how yummy Cajun spiced air-popped popcorn is.

So, from now on, instead of having Voluptacon sized bear traps alongside the mousetraps around the pantry (so neither the mice nor I can eat the BBQ Shapes!), I will be following the Weight Watchers points system, which still does allow me to snack (a Voluptacon NEVER starves herself!! It is against her nature!), but it just makes me more aware of what I am putting into my body.

So I can be an even stronger Voluptacon, a Voluptacon that can maybe one day do one back flips in a bikini...well, maybe I’ll just settle for summersaults in a sun dress.

What’s your biggest hurdle with weight loss? Love of carbs? Snacking? Lack of motivation?

#(Lime Green Cordial)