Silly bloody season!

Here are the three main reasons why December = Silly.

1. The Jelly Bean is sick again. I've had a day off work because he's sick again. I had a day off work only a couple of weeks ago. I've spoken to my mum, she thinks he should see a naturopath. I've consulted the wisdom of google, the questions from other parents, the complaints and diatribes of people SO obsessed with anti-bacterial/non wheat/allergy free latex lifestyles, it makes me tired just thinking about it.

It seems, from my thorough, objective and humble research that it's fairly normal. Little people, anywhere between the ages of 12 months to 6 years seem to catch every bug that thinks about entering their breathing space. And if these bugs think about it while the little people are recovering from the last bug that thought about it, then two bugs fight it out to the death. The 'death' can mean any number of things, but the general list of bug 'deaths'/symptoms of feralness attacking my son include - snot (variants from clear to white to yellow to luminescent-toxic-waste-dump-fluoro-uranium type green), cough to junky cough (???), fever, sadness, only wanting their own mama, noisy mouth breathing, lack of the ability to say D's and N's at appropriate times and desire to watch Playschool, the Cars movie and to annoy the bollocks out of me. Bless him, hope he feels better soon!

2. We are fast approaching Christmas, I haven't finished making all the presents I was making for people. I decided to makes presents instead of buying presents as excess cash is not one of my life complaints, however, the making of presents has become a stress factor. I understand my thought processes were wonderful, if you make something for someone it means more, you put tiume and effort into it, they have something personal, etcetera etcetera. However, in telling myself I'm making something (and trust me, this is less stressful than going christmas shopping, I hate shopping at the best of times), I'm putting pressure on to get it all done by a deadline. You know, the excess time and effort.

I'm a teacher. I give deadlines ALL the time. Ones that my teenagers tend not to adhere to so very often.

And when I'm a student, I always leave things to the last minute. But in December, the last minute isn't even the 25th of December. The last minute starts when Christmas parties start. When you won't see such and such a friend after the 12th. Or the 16th.

So I have a rolling deadline, every few days.

Christmas, lasts for a WHOLE month!

3. We leave for Malaysia again on the 30th of December. That, today, is only 23 sleeps away but instead of the excitement I deep down feel, I am making little piles of things I need to do between now and then. I figure that the last few days after Christmas will be my organising to go away few days. Hopefully it doesn't rain so much so that I can get some washing dry.

But I have my malaria tablets in a little pile with the new sunscreen I bought the other day and the tropical strength roll on insect repellent.

Oh you poor poor baby, tropical holiday for three and a half weeks after Christmas. What a difficult life you must lead...

Ok, I'll stop whingeing now.

And tend to my luminscent son's face. It's started to crust up a bit on the right hand side...

Things The Bean has said:

He has a 'fishing' game that has fish and other sea creatures cut out of wood, in a wooden box. Each of the sea creatures has a little steel button type thing on the back to as to 'fish' them out of the box with the magnetic fishing rod. The Bean also has a similar jigsaw thing with bugs on the wooden cut outs that have the same steel button-y things. Logically, that means, in our house, we fish for fish, crabs, seahorses and jellyfish at the same time that we fish for bugs, butterflies, busy bees and the like.

It was The Bean's turn, in this case, I tell him which creature to pick up with the fishing rod. When it's my turn he tells me which creature. (Hours of entertainment!)

Me: Can you pick up the black and yellow stripey fish?
TB, tongue hanging out, fishing with one hand (them's the rules, no guiding the string with the other hand allowed) picks it up and puts it in my hand.
Me: You got it! Well done!
TB: Thanks, Mama, your turn.

TB: Mama, can you pick up the brown dolf?
Me: Huh? What's a dolf?
TB: The brown dolf, Mama. (Pointing)
Me: Hahahahahahah!
Me: Do you mean the brown golf?
TB: Yeah, that brown dolf right there.
Me: It's not a golf babe, it's a cricket.