skip to main |
skip to sidebar
(Warning: This blog does contain some toilet humour, if you are offended by such, please refrain from reading further - although, honestly, how many of you really thought that a blog about a mother of a three year old, and her three old, was going to be a poo free journey?!?!)
This is the blog entry that I'll get in trouble for publishing when a certain Bean is a teenager, and then probably again when a certain Bean turns twenty one.
"Mama, I need to go to the toilet!"
"Ok, babe."
The Bean runs to the toilet, the little butt sized toilet seat is heard crashing under the normal butt sized toilet seat (I'm saying normal, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!). The step to get the little butt onto the seat is heard scraping along the lino.
"Mama!"
"Yeah, babe?"
"Mama, can you come here please a second?" (Who does that sound like???)
Enter the now, and surprisingly quick, stinky bathroom/toilet section of our house.
"Mama, I've got crabs in my hair."
*Insert inappropriate Beavis and Butthead laugh*
Then I stop myself as this is inappropriate and clearly, not genital lice related at all.
"See?"
The Bean ruffles his clean hair. Clean except for the tomato sauce section above his left ear.
"Baby, you haven't got any crabs in your hair."
"Yeah, they're going to catch a train."
"Crabs live in the ocean. They don't catch trains."
"Mama, you can catch a train to the ocean."
I stand corrected.
"Mama?"
"Yes, Jelly Bean."
"I put my dangle in, see?"
(A 'dangle' is a penis, I can't call it a penis. I know I should. But it's such a clinical term. And well, since he was little, it always kind of dangled. And the reference to 'putting it in' is my attempt to convince him to watch where his dangle goes when he pees, to point it into the toilet, cause I'm pretty jack of cleaning mis-aimed boy wee off the floor already!)
"Excellent job, baby."
"But it's dark in there."
"It's ok, dangles don't need to see, do they?"
"Dangles can't see. They don't have eyes, or mouths or faces, too, do they, Mama?"
*Insert hahahahaha*
"No, they don't."
Things The Bean has said:
*Insert fart noise*
"Do you need to go to the toilet, babe?"
"No please, Mama."
"Are you sure?"
"It was just a fart."
"But maybe you should just go to the toilet, anyway."
"No please, Mama! It was just a poos being silly in my bottom."
For the purposes of this piece, I will be playing the roles of Minmi and Triceratops and The Bean will be Dimetrodon and Tyrannosaurus Rex (aka T-Rex cause I don't want to have to keep typing it)
Minmi: Hi Dimetrodon, how's it going today?
Dimetrodon: Good thanks. Wanna go over to this place?
Minmi: Yeah, cool. Where are we going?
Dimetrodon: Over here. We're going to see the princess.
Minmi: ok...
*dinosaurs walk over to the other end of the rug*
Minmi: Where's the princess?
Dimetrodon: She's over here.
Triceratops: Hey you guys, what are you doing?
Dimetrodon: We're gonna find the princess.Triceratops: Hey look at this cool car, I like the purple one.
Dimetrodon: I like the red one.
Minmi: I wonder where the princess is and what car she likes.
Dimetrodon: I think she's over in the bulldozerMinmi: This princess rocks!
*Dimetrodon walks over to the bulldozer*Triceratops: Aaaaarrghhh! Is that a Tyrannosaurus Rex?????
T-Rex: Hi Triceratops!
* Triceratops screams then hides behind the truck*
T-Rex: hahahahahahahahahahahah *snort* hahahahah giggle giggle giggle *snort*
* Minmi shakes and hides behind a tree*
T-Rex: Hi Minmi, what are you doing?
Minmi: *shake shake* I'm hiding, are you going to eat me?
T-Rex: I'm not going to eat you. Let's go over and eat this tree.
Minmi: Ok. *Hesitantly follows T-Rex* Are you sure you're not going to eat me?
T-Rex: I won't eat you Minmi.
Minmi: Ok. Hey do you want to dance to Incubus?
T-Rex: Yeah, let's do some dancing!
* Minmi and T-Rex dance to Incubus playing on the stereo. Triceratops is still hiding behind the truck. Dimetrodon has sadly been forgotten in an earlier pre-historic period*
* T-Rex moves over to Minmi. Minmi shrieks in fear.*
T-Rex: It's ok, Minmi. Here I have a mountain for you.
We never did find the princess. But The Bean turned T-Rexes, traditionally the fiercest carnivores known to the history of the planet, into dancing vegetarians.
Rock and Roll...
Things the Bean has said:
The Bean was reading Green Eggs and Ham on the couch while I was in bed dozing, trying not to have to get up.
From the bedroom, the story went like this...
I am Sam
Sam I am
I am Sam
I don't like green eggs and ham.
A train a train a train a train
Would you like them in a box with a fox?
In a boat? In the dark.
Would you like them here or there?
No, please.
Saturday morning was bright and shiny, we were both, seemingly, feeling better. We watched Rage, we had breakfast, The Bean played with his cars, I drank coffee. We sat in the back yard, we talked on the phone (Not to each other, that would be weird), The Bean had a sandwich and we decided to go to the park. Across the road is a school with a playground, this is the park we go to when I can't be bothered walking far or changing out of my trackies for the Chelsea public.
After an hour or so, we'd been home once, for The Bean to go to the toilet (also a major advantage of living across the road from a blue slide) and we'd gone back to the park again. Then The Bean told me he wanted to go home. He wanted a drink. So we did. And he had one.
Then he put himself to bed.
In about 15 minutes he started to cry. Then he started to sob.
Then the following progression of events, from Saturday 1pm to Monday 8am was a frightening blur:
* I checked his temperature - 38.7
* Gave him panadol
* Called the nurse helpline
* Temperature was 39.2
* Lay down with him
* Gave him a drink
* Sob, Sob, shiver shiver
* Temperature 40.5
* Called the nurse helpline
* "Is it time to go to the hospital?"
* "It's probably time to go to the doctor, yes."
* Packed a few clothes for him
* 'Mama, sob, can I please have a bucket/cuddle/sob?"
* "Come on, into the toilet, are you going to be sick
* Sob. Sob. Cry.
* Vomit
* Vomit
* Temperature 41.1
* Called a friend I was supposed to visit that evening. "Think I need to take The Bean to the hospital. Don't worry though, I'll just meet you back at mine, you can cook dinner here. The Bean's temperature is 41.1. This is when they can start to have seizures. Boil their brain and stuff."
* "Babe, why are you calling me?"
* "I don't know"
* "Get in the car, go to the hospital."
* "I don't know what I'm doing."
* "Take him to the hospital."
* "OK."
* Drove the car, waited for the traffic lights. Called Ninna and Papa. Got to the hospital.
* Triage nurse was lovely, Temperature had come down a bit, 39.8
* Into a bed in emergency. Opposite a woman who'd had breast cancer, heroin and some kind of transplant. So it seemed.
* An ambo was changing over a patient to the nurse, "He's had five by pass surgeries, he's type two diabetic, heavy smoker, drinking today."
* Move to the paed section of emergency. Baby crying, can't eat. Two teenager boys, dislocated joints/head injuries/Saturday afternoon football.
* Another baby of two teachers. Can't poo. Hasn't pooed for two days. Except for the nappy full of blood that made her parents take her to the paed section of the emergency department.
* Neurofen for The Bean, Temperature 39
* Vomit
* Vomit
* Need to get him on a drip at some stage. Need to take some blood. Need to get that little thing into the back of his hand.
* Blood. Tears. Screams. Tears. Kicking. Not sure if all of the tears and screams were coming from The Bean.
* Called Ninna and Papa.
* The Bean has to be admitted. He can't keep anything down. Getting dehydrated. Not sure what's wrong. Have to grow blood cultures. Have to have an xray.
* Not sure what's wrong.
* Up to the paed ward. 10pm ish. Get the drip in the back of his hand. IV Fluid. IV penicillin.
* To the nurse - "I'm going to go home. I want to have a shower, I want to have something to eat. I need to get the smell of vomit out of my hair. I want to go home."
* Drive home. Do Stuff. Drive back.
* Sunday morning - penicillin's working. Fluid worked. New Bean. So much happier.
* Doctor. Nurses. Weird bossy food lady. Ninna and Papa. Uncle Abum and Aunty Lee. Bless 'em.
* Coffee. Books. Cars. Plastic toy garage.
* Problems with the drip.
* Tears. Screams. Kicking.
* Deep Breaths.
* Oral anit-biotics. One more sleep until we can go home. Probably.
* "That baby's crying, Mama."
* "Yeah babe, she's a bit sick."
* "She's very sad."
* The Bean will only eat fruit toast. Bananas. Vegemite sandwiches. Not enough water.
* Normal. Must be feeling better.
* Chucking tantrums.
* Must be feeling better.
* "Can we go home, Mama?"
* "Not yet baby, we have to maybe wait 'til the morning."
* "Pleeee-assse Mama. I want to go home."
* "I know, babe." Sob. "Me, too."
* 7am Mon. All seems good, he's kept everything down.
* 7:30 "You can go home."
* YAY!!!
Things The Bean has said:
Burp.
"Are you gonna be sick, babe?"
"No Mama."
"Are you sure?"
"Yep, it's not a throw up Mama, it's just a bert."
Got a cold. The green demons coming out of The Bean's face have finally infiltrated and caused my face to be larger than my head. One needs much more energy to breathe in common place air and makes one look slightly mentally challenged, walking around, mouth gaping, eyes drippy, and unable to pronounce D's, N's and other such consonants.Work has improved. After I found out that my year 12s in fact dislike me, crisis was abated when I figured that I'm not going to change the world with hate, so I will just love them more and hope that some of that affection rubs off.One did tell me that she had made her family stop being racist since she had me as a teacher so I guess I have changed the world just a little bit!
My brother had a baby boy the other day, and The Bean was very keen to go to the hospital to visit. When I told him about his new cousin he told me that he would 'need a fish in a tank.' As this was the first comment out of his mouth on hearing the exciting news, I decided to go on a mission to find a new born friendly fish tank. My brother was adamant on not wanting a real fish, but Fisher Price to the rescue, they have a fish type plastic tank thingy that plays music and hold three plastic fish. SO EXCITED! I bought it and it is wrapped up on my bench, waiting for the green demons to dissipate so we can visit the new addition to the family.
When I told The Bean that we couldn't in fact visit the hospital 'cause Mama's sick,' he asked why and I explained that babies are too little to get sick, that if Mam coughed or sneezed he might not feel well and we don't want that. He then told me that we had to wait til he's bigger before we can play with him.
I tried to explain we could probably visit on the weekend, that I'd be better then, but waiting 'til the baby is bigger sounds better to The Bean. He wants to wait 'til he's bigger' so that he can play trucks, too. Shame he doesn't want to play trucks with his two year old cousin of the female variety.
Sexist!
Things The Bean has said
On the way home in the car, The Bean was explaining how his friend Hannah had just left creche before I got there.
"Hannah's gone home with she's daddy."
"With her daddy, babe."
"No, with she's daddy."
"I know it's weird, but you need to say her daddy - Hannah went home with her daddy."
"Yeah, she did...."
Pause.
"Hannah's daddy had dirt on she's pants."
"Hannah's pants or her daddy's pants?"
"She's daddy's pants."
Ugh, pronouns!
I've been in a bit of a mood all week. Since we got sick and then had to work and then had marking to do and then got pretty much jack of it all. I love my job, but this week it has been 'unsatisfying'. My kids are tough. The homework is tough. Finding the motivation to deal with the kids and the homework is even tougher.
And I feel like a big whinger 'cause I'm normally the bubbly, shiny, smiley one that brightens the rainy days for other people who hate work. My friend said yesterday that she 'hadn't won the war today'. But her response, to herself, was that there was always tomorrow. I don't have that response for myself at the moment. Can't get my morose head out of the blah-ness of today.
So I woke up this morning and thought I'd try something drastic, I took The Bean to the zoo. He loves the zoo. Like LOVES the zoo. But even he today couldn't get his groove on it. He liked riding in on the train. He wanted to see a few things. But the elephants made a scary noise and from then on he was off it. We had a tantrum about me wanting to stay at the elephants long enough to see Mali. We had a tantrum about not being able to reach up and sit on a high fence by himself. We had a tantrum when he fell off the high fence. We had a tantrum about needing to go to the toilet. One about chocolate milk. About seeing the orangutans. About the Australian Bush section being closed off and not being able to get to the kangaroos.
The only time for re-animation was the reptile section. He ran from one window to the next, criss-crossing the reptile house's circular building with "Mama! MAMA! Look at this!" "Mamaaaaaaaaaa!"
He was so excited. It was great to see but by that stage I was nearly in tears from being tired and being over it and getting grouchy with him when I was just trying to make him happy. Him and me both.
The joy was lost for most of the day. The excitement of the zoo hadn't worked properly.
He's now playing with his cars and I'm in on the computer and we're not really talking.
And last night he burnt his mouth on a cup of hot chocolate because he chucked a tantrum about wanting the hot chocolate. We were at a friend's restaurant and he said to let him have some. He hadn't even gotten the drink to his mouth before he screamed some more because the glass was hot.
So lesson taught, huh?
And it took me most of the day to figure out what the little blister on his lip was from. I thought he'd caught a cold sore from somewhere. Or he had the plague.
But no, burnt lip.
Who's lesson then?
Oh, and tomorrow is Mother's Day...
Things The Bean has said...
"Mama, I don't want to see the monkeys. I wanna go home..."
"How about we go see the snakes and then go home?"
"Ok, on the train?"
"Yup."
"Ok, snakes and then the train."
Enter the reptile house.
"Mama, look at THAT one!"
It's probably a dinosaur evolution relationship thing, let's be honest.
"Mama it's so dark in the sky!"
I told him it was because of the rain and that the clouds were covering the sunshine. That we would definitely get home from work/creche and get our trackies on. And then remembered he already had his trackies on. So I re-iterated that I would get my trackies on, 'cause his were already on his legs.
He would only eat fruit toast for dinner. Three pieces. I made some avocado and sweet chilli sauce dip for him, a once upon a time favourite, but that was scoffed at, fake gagged upon then thrown in the bin.
I'm gonna say this is a re-telling of a book from creche. Either that or The Bean is a killer story teller already!
Things The Bean has said:
There's a big scary witches. And there's another witches in the sky. And the sky is orange.And it got scared and it got blackAnd there's a man outside, and he lives in the rubbish.And he sleeps in it.
And it was brown.And he's got smelly pants!And a green t-shirt.Mama, can I have some fruit toast?
I became vomity myself, ew! And my Mum came to take The Bean to her house so I could try and get better, bless her heart (again!).
I slept for most of the day, watched a couple of episodes of House and slept some more. When Mum brought The Bean home late in the afternoon she'd bought him a new Playschool DVD - seemingly, Papa couldn't handle watching 'Dinosaurs' anymore himself. This one was entitled 'Wheels'. This should have been far more interesting and engaging for The Bean than 'Dinosaurs' because my child is OBSESSED with toy cars/trains/buses/motorbikes/ambulances and the like. Let's be honest, he wanted to watch the 'Dinosaurs' one. I convinced him, by looking particularly ill and slightly vomity, that we should watch the 'Wheels' one instead. Convinced, after setting the DVD up in my room and allowing said Playschool DVD to be watched snuggled up in my bed, we watched two episodes from 'Wheels'.
No one, anywhere, would believe what is about to be typed....
Halfway through Friday's episode, Georgie Parker, begins talking about trucks, that look like Dinosaurs. They have been constructed from boxes. They have wheels (staying true to the theme, yes), they also have cardboard tails, and Apatosaurus shaped cardboard heads. I couldn't believe my ears/eyes and other vomity senses.
No!
Georgie then gets up, the guy that's been playing piano for Playschool since before the dawn of time, since probably the time of the effing Dinosaurs, starts the little jingle.
No!
This DVD is called 'Wheels'!!!
And then it was all over;
'The Dinosaurs were dancing 'round the pre-historic swamp,
They shook their heads,
They swished their tails,
And did the Dino Stomp
Stomp, Stomp, Stomp.
Dance Dino
Dance Dino
Stomp, Stomp, Stomp.Dance Dino
Dance Dino
Stomp, Stomp, Stomp.They shook their heads,
They swished their tails,
And did the Dino StompUgh!Things The Bean has said...
Lying in my bed this morning, I was trying to explain to The Bean why he needs to hold my hand "The WHOLE time" when we are in Vietnam.
Me: "Now why do you need to whole my hand all the time in Vietnam?"
"Because."
"Because why, babe?"
"Because there's lots of people in Ett-man"
"And why else?"
"Why?"
"So you don't get lost."
"EW! Mama! Your hair's in my mouth!"
This is the first installment.
Saturday, The Bean has been sick now for two days.
It started Thursday night and it started with vomit. Lots. Regularly. Between the hours of 10pm and 6am. He needed to hold my hand to go to sleep.
"Mama, please hold my hand."
I needed to hold his hand while he slept on my pillow and breathed vomit breath all over the world. That's ok, but gross, too.
Needless to say I didn't go to work on Friday because creche doesn't allow vomity children to attend.
We watched the only Playschool DVD we own, five episodes, about Dinosaurs, in a row, over and over, from approximately 11am until 6:30pm with a break for a nap in between (both of us had said nap!)
He'd stopped being vomity by Friday night, he slept all night.
And cried all day today. And watched the Dinosaur Playschool DVD. He is no longer vomity, just snotty and sad. Paracetamol works for a time. Cuddles where snot and tears are wiped on my shoulder work much better, so it seems.
Mum (Ninna to The Bean) and Dad (Papa to The Bean) came over in the afternoon. Dad took The Bean to the park across the road. Mum helped me hang out washing and let me cry.
Bless their hearts!
Today is 57 more sleeps until we fly to Vietnam for The Bean's first overseas trip and my first overseas trip since before The Bean was born!!!
Excited doesn't even begin to explain it.
Things The Bean has said...
When I explained to him that he should eat carrots, because Dinosaurs eat carrots, he said,
"No Mama"
"Yeah, they do. Dinosaurs LOVE carrots."
"No, they don't Mama."
"Why don't you go call Ninna and ask her?"
"Ok."
Calls Ninna. Asks her. Ninna agrees that Dinosaurs eat carrots and that he, too, should eat carrots.
The Bean says "No please, Ninna, I'm not a dinosaur."
