Little Parrots

The mothers out there will understand me when i say that small children make for very good parrots - that is, they have this amazing habit of hearing, and repeating, everything you say ( unless of course what you're saying is " Please pick up your pencils " or " Stop touching the Christmas tree! " ).

Image from here

Flynn is a pretty good talker at the best of times, and though i really love being able to have little conversations with him or being able to understand what he wants, i do wish he'd stop copying all the "naughty " words his Dad is fond of saying. Not that we swear badly around him often - though both of us have had the odd slip up here and there - but Mick is, being a typical country boy, a user of a lot of Australian colloquialisms.... some of which aren't all that appropriate for a 2 yr old. Like, for example, the way many Australians use insults as a term of endearment, especially amonsgt blokes.

So when Flynn pipes up during a playdate yesterday " Daddy say i a bum-hole. Flynn a little bum-hole! " I was kind of mortified, even though amonsgt two grown up men i wouldnt bat an eyelid. Luckily all the other mum could do is laugh at my embarrassment, and tell her daughter ( who is a day older than Flynn ) to shut her ears...

Or at dinner last night when i gave Flynn a prawn to try - he took one little nibble and chucked it back on his plate in disgust, saying " This f**king stupid! ". Umm - no. Just - no. Both of us were a little taken aback at that one and told him f**king is a naughty word and that you can just say the prawn is yucky if you dont want it. Now, we arent in the habit of calling food " f**king stupid " but i'm guessing some little ears may have been listening to Daddy working ( or trying to anyway ) in the garage...

Flynn has also been known to tell people:
" Get off bloody grass! "
" Get away my daughter! " ( Which Poppy said in jest at our recent wedding.... ) and
" Cheers Big Ears! "
Hey, at least the last one gets an appropriate laugh....

30 Days of Music - Day 13+14

So...my 30 Days of Music Challenge may just turn into a more prolonged theme. Yes, i've skipped a few days, partly because i was busy doing other things and partly because the lack of comments on my music posts were giving me the poo's. Anyhoo, i thought maybe if i stretched things out a bit it wouldnt be so "music, music, music! ". So, after a weekend break, i present to you the prompts for days 13 and 14 of the challenge....
Day 13 - For you, what song defines the '00's?
Seeing as we've only just finished living through this decade you would think i would have hundreds of songs running through my head but the only one i kept hearing was this:

The late Noughties was where i finally found my confidence - i stopped wallowing in the blackhole of depression and started loving myself. Which, in turn, made me believe ( sometimes ) in my own sexiness, and being able to ( sometimes ) convince cute boys of the same thing! So what song would be better to choose than " SexyBack " by Justin Timberlake?

Day 14 - What song was your first record/cassette/CD/MP3 purchase?
Hold on to your hats ladies and gentleman, this one is going to get embarrassing!

Oh yea baby - East 17! Please bear in mind that i was 8 years old when i bought the " Walthamstow " album - it was 1992 and i saved up my pocket money for a few weeks in order to buy my very first cd. Boy band pop was awesomely cool and East 17 were waaaaaaaaaaay better than Take That ( at least they seemed that way at the time ). Believe or not, i still have this album in my cd cabinet but i havent listened to it in over a decade. Perhaps today would be a good day for a repeat listen?

Oh My God - I've Just Done A Runner!

I'm a thief. Accidentally, of course. Let me set the scene :

My mothers group had its final, official meeting today ( i say official because we can still keep meeting up after today, but it wont be run by our local community health nurses anymore.. ) and, as is tradition with the final meeting, we went out to lunch. It just so happens that one of the other new mums in my group owns a local cafe/resturant and said it would be a problem to have 16 mothers, babys and prams in her establishment - so, naturally, we decided hers would be the best place to go. She had a hug table set up down the back of the resturant so that all us mothers could fit and the wait staff could still serve other customers up front.

Lunch was great - i had a lovely chicken and avocado penne, Flynn was kind enough to stay asleep so i could eat uninterrupted ( good boy! ) and it was nice to have a bit of conversation and general chit chat without being guided to a particular weekly topic. We werent rushed for time so it was a nice, lazy lunch. Eventually it got to a point where some mums started packing there things up and saying their goodbyes and we started leaving in dribs and drabs....

At which point, after having fed my son, i packed up his stuff, put him in his pram.....and promptly walked out the door without paying for my meal. Oh.My.God! I'd done a runner and i didnt even realise until i got home - i called the resturant straight away and apologised and said that i would drop my money in to them tomorrow morning. Its going to be soooo embarrassing going in there - i mean, if it were just some random place and i didnt know the owner i could just take my money in and never, EVER, go back. But seeing as we've decided to make this cafe our regular meeting place i cant exactly take that option.

So i guess i'll just have to live with my shameful moment tomorrow - suck it up, blame the mistake on baby brain, and try to remember to pay my tab before leaving next time....

The Great Escape

Today my boobies made a run for it. Can you believe that ? No, they didnt up and leave my chest area, and no i dont have prematurely aging saggy boobs. No, i was at work and my bra broke.... can you believe that? I'm just standing at my desk talking to J and all of a sudden - the elasticity is gone. Every woman out there must know what i'm talking about : when the girls are strapped in there is a firmness, a secure feeling. When that hook lets go, all that security is gone. And so it was today - and chesticles tried to make a break for it. Thank God that a) it was so freaking hot today that my bra was glued to my skin by sweat ( i know, gross, buts thats an Australian summer for you ) and b) that i work in the central shopping area of my town ( i was close enough to duck out for a minute and go and buy myself some new undergarments ).

Thank God, this wasnt exactly a Girls Gone Wild moment. I mean, i did have a shirt on after all, so it wasnt like i was falling out of anything, but there is a brief moment of mortification where you hope nobody has noticed ( even if there isnt all that much to see ). Its kind of like a guy being almost pantsed ( or dacked, as we call it here in Australia ). Sure, there isnt exactly anything on show - except maybe your boxers or your favourite tighty whities - but for a minute there you wonder if anyone has noticed anything else. (As an aside, dacking people is funny, unless your the one being dacked ).

You know how it is right ? Any intentional exposure of other peoples bodies, in the aim of embarrassing them, is funny, unless your the target. I cant remember how many times the boys in my grade during high school would run up behind someone and yank their pants down. Boy-on-boy, after a while, seemed a little homoerotic - so of course it progressed to either trying to do the same to us girls ( unless we were wearing a skirt, in which case they were just trying to get a glimpse underneath, anyway they could ). And what other form of torture did they devise for us ladies ? Bra strap flicking and, occasionally, intentional unhooking of the bra. During science class. Luckily whilst seated in the back row.

Oh, wait.... yea, thats where they got me. Science was not exactly my favourite subject, so my friends and I in the back row spent a lot of time fooling around back there. Usually we threw pieces of eraser at people, or passed notes, or talked in low tones so the teacher wouldnt hear, but one day my friends L and Jay decided it was Pick On Amy Day. This newly celebrated holiday involved L reaching behind me andi n one foul swoop, pulling at the back of my bra and miraculously unhooking it with one hand. O.M.G! How, like, totally embarassing! I had to slide underneath the desk and try and fiddle underneath my shirt and hook it back up without the teacher noticing i was gone. No mean feat let me tell you.

And so, we have learned two things: pantsing people is funny. Unhooking girls bras in science class is not.

Also: either my breasts have magically grown a cup size overnight ( please God, say its true! ) or they just dont make bras like they used to....