I can fart through my Belly Button!

Ok, not ME personally, before you all delete me as your Facebook friend…
On Friday, I had the pleasure of transporting 5 x 8 year olds to the Planetarium for a school outing.

You know what the general 8 year old stage is like – all teeth, feet and dorkiness? Well, try having 5 of those on the back seat for an hour and a half… I guarantee you will need a shot of something strong by the time you get home.

The trip there was relatively incident free, all of them insisted on singing a different song, at the same time, at the tops of their voices – but I was happy, it allowed me to go into ‘Driver Day Dream’ mode while they entertained themselves. We got cool parking ( cool people get cool parking, as my mom always says ) and off they trotted to watch Davey Dragon save the planets while Mommy and Debbie plonked themselves in the Trendy Che Bar in Long Street.

After 2 hours, and way too many cappuccino’s, we buzzed back to the Planetarium to pick up the sprogs, and this is where the fun begins…

‘Right Troops, put your lunches in the boot, and jump in the car’

Kid 1: SHOTGUN!
Kid 2: SHOTGUN!
Kid 3: SHOTGUN!
Kid 4: SHOTGUN!
Kid 5: SHOTGUN!

All a millisecond apart… Ok, I am a fair, controlled mother – ha ha – whatever, my mind is frantically thinking – Which kid deserves to sit on the front seat??

‘Ok, Kid 1 – you sat in the front on the way here, so you’re out. Kid 2 – you are my kid and you should let your friends have a chance blah blah blah.’

This still leaves me with 3, sweaty, irritated, Cheese Curl covered sprogs to fight with.

‘Right, lets Paper, Rock, Scissors it then. You three, when I say go, CHING CHONG CHA!’

1,2,3 - GO!

All rock.

Ok, again!

All paper.

Ok, one last time – GO!

All scissors.

Not working..

By this time I’m Sweaty, irritated and also covered in Cheese Curls and just grab the biggest kid and stick him in the front – my practical mind telling me there will be more space for the others on the back seat.

Minute by minute the noise is getting louder and louder, and they are getting sillier and sillier… About halfway home, my child gets the giggles. Like, the real giggles.. She is sat on someone else’s lap and has just farted. The boy next to her is saying, Oh gross, you are so GROSS!! She laughs so much that by now she is farting uncontrollably, I am trying to be the ‘mom’ and reprimand her for not having any manners, but by now I’ve got the giggles too. After a couple of minutes of near hysteria, silence fills the car for about 30 seconds. Then a small, sweet, very ladylike voice pipes up from behind me: “Miss, that’s nothing – I can fart through my Belly Button” ……….. ‘Really Sweetheart? Wow, that’s amazing, what a clever party trick!’ ( I know you’re all going to try it now… )

The boy on the front seat is now SO glad I chose him to sit up front, and told me a loooong in-depth, detailed conversation about how he speaks 3 languages fluently because his dad is Turkish, his mom is Afrikaans, and his Granny is English.

Front Seat Boy: “ So, because I can speak 3 languages my dad is taking me overseas next week so show me off to my uncle in Turkey who rides a Harley Davidson, EXACTLY like the one in front of us now, but sometimes he drives a truck EXACTLY like the one on the left of us now, and then sometimes he…….BLECH”

Me: “ Erm, Sorreee - did you just puke in my car??????”

Front Seat Boy: (very garbled and muffled) “Yesh,sorry,I caught mosht of it in my tie sho don’t worry, I’ll jusht shpit the rest out the window – Bleeeccchpppuuuke”

Now I have 3-language-Front-Seat-Boys sick all down the side of my newly polished car.

That’s it. I have DONE my good mom deed for the year, so I put my foot flat and raced back to school at break neck speed.

Very Calm-In-Control-Non-Driving-Teacher: “ Oh Kerry, Thank You SOOO much for taking lifts today !”

Oh think nothing of it darlin, it was an absolute vriggin PLEASURE. But I think I will be very conveniently ILL for the trip to the Science Centre next term.

Keep Smiling,
Lovies
Me xxx

New Piccies

Quickly updating with just a few piccies of the girls, taken at rugby on Saturday - Thank You Derryn!

Will update you all on life soon soon - promise

Lovies

me xxx

Someone Else's Story

So, my friend Kerri just emailed me this woman's wax story.. it is SO funny. Sister Meg and I had a similar experience with cold wax on our eyebrows, and Taide tried to wax the cat while we were ripping our eyebrows off, it was sooo funny.. But read this story, it will make you chuckle, guaranteed.

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner,
play with the kids.

I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next
few hours:

'Maybe should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet.'

So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those
'cold wax' kits.

No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your
hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg
(or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.

No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be?

I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to
figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other
stuck together.

Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the
hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ('Cold wax,' yeah...right!) I
lay the strip across my thigh.

Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!

OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this!


Hair removal no longer eludes me!

I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin
extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north.

After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the
ultimate hair fighting championship.

I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet.

Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of
my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down
to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip)

I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRRRIIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind!!!

Blinded from pain!!!!....

OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!

Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the
strip. CRAP!

Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted.

I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...must stay conscious.

Do I hear crashing drums???

Breathe, breathe............

OK, back to normal.

I want to see my trophy - a wax-covered strip, the one that has caused
me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it.

I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair.

I hold up the strip!

There's no hair on it.

Where is the hair???

WHERE IS THE WAX???

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet.

I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip...it's not!

I touch.

I am touching wax.

I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now
covered in cold wax and matted hair.

Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped
upon the toilet?

I know I need to do something.

So I put my foot down.

Sealed shut!

My butt is sealed shut.

Sealed shut!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and
think to myself .....................

'Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!'

What can I do to melt the wax?

Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!!

I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse
the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it
off, right???


*WRONG!!!!!!!*

I get in the tub -

The water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war
or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.

Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued
together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of
the tub...in scalding hot water.

Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.

So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented
myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few
months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!

I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some
secret of how to get me undone.

It's a very good conversation starter 'So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued
together to the bottom of the tub!'

There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal
but she does try to hide her laughter from me.

She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, 'Are we talking
cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?'

She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her.

I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of
the box.

YEAH!!!!! Right!!

I should be the joke of someone else's night.

While we go through various solutions. I resort to trying to scrape the
wax off with a razor.

Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot
wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then
dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!

By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm
pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this
event.

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving
grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax.

What do I really have to lose at this point?

I rub some on and OH MY STARS !!!

The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens out of my
friend.

It's sooo painful, but I really don't care.

'IT WORKS !!!

It works !!! ' I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she
hangs up.

I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my
grief and despair...

THE HAIR IS STILL THERE...ALL OF IT!

So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts.

I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I'm going to try hair color ~~~

How funny is that???

Keep Smiling
Lovies
me xxx

My little niece

My niece Sian, had her Matric dance two weeks ago - she is SO grown up and I am starting to feel old.........! She looks stunning, so Sianie this post is dedicated to you my babe - you are one gorgeous girl, inside and out. Love you loads!!

Sian and the dude - i cant remember his name! sorry!

Sian and the dude again

I love this picture! She has a cute naughty face on - Ooh Sianie - scandalous!

And Sian and my fabulous sister Meg - I dont think i've ever put a pic of meg on here - so here you go!

Keep smiling,

me xxx

The Things we do for our kids...

Ok, forget the most boring job in the world post - thats just plain old boring.. what was i thinking?

The Things we do for our kids - even if you're not a parent, I'm sure you will find these amusing :)

Shanah - (who is now 3 by the way, can you believe my baby is 3 already??) got a new soccer ball. This child is amazing with this thing, she can spin it, toss it, catch it, and all those other sporty things. She gets SO irritated with me because Mommy is ... well....very crap at catching balls. ( no rude comments here please)

So, we get the new ball, and she decides we need to give the ball a party. A party for a ball my baby? " Yes MOMMEEE, Me want party for my ballie! " Ok, my love, calm down to a panic.. We all proceeded to sit round the table with the ball taking centre stage while Shanah sang it a song at the top of her lungs and cut up the 'cake' ( playdough cake ) By this stage Niamh and Tayla were beyond boredom and were kicking each other under the table, all the while whispering under their breath " stupid sister, stupid ball, stupid cake " and I was like the mother from the INCREDIBLES holding them apart with my Elasta-girl arms while Shanah served us all 'cake' After trying to convince her that no matter how hard she shuved the cake into the balls 'mouth' it was NOT going to swallow, the party was over. Well, we thought it was - Shanah then said we must all say 'Prawers' (prayers) and Niamh had to pray for the ball. Already dying of soccer ball party embarrassment, she muttered a prayer that went as follows:

Dear God, I cannot believe my mom is making me have a party for a ball, Please help her. Oh, and tell Tayla to get off my foot, Oh and one more thing God, please help the Muslims

Don't ask where the last part came in, I just dont know.

Another friend of mine had a Facebook status update that just said : Hetha... has just had a funeral for a goldfish.

Oh, I would have loved to have been present for THAT. Dear God, please look after this dead fish, he's been a good fish and has served me well... I'm sorry he was so bored swimming round and round the same goldfish bowl for a year, and I'm sorry mommy flushed him down the toilet, but please... spare a thought for him. Too cute :)

In honor of Shanah here are 2 piccies of her, one of the day she was born, and how she is now - cutie pie.

Keep Smiling,

Lovies

me xxx