Monday, February 25, 2008

I have survived...

a two hour 5th birthday party with 8 (including Charlie) 5 year olds. There was screaming, tantrums, laughter and lots of fun. There was also lots of junk food, then we sent them home to their parents. Only one child turned up unexpectedly (he was invited but hadn't RSVP'd). It took longer to clean up than it did to hold the party. It took almost as long to work out which bit of plastic went with which little thing that had to be assembled and have stickers stuck all over it. We didn't count on the almost two year old being so razzed up on sugar that she wouldn't go to sleep until 10.30pm when we went to bed and then only after threats from Daddy of being put in her own bed if she didn't stop kicking him.

I think I'd do it again. Maybe. We were worried what to do to keep them occupied, but I realised that hey, they're in kindergarten if all else fails we'll read them a book. Fortunately an Easter Egg hunt, a pinata, and a pit stop for drinks and scoffing food took care of all their needs. I had help, one lovely Mum stayed the whole two hours and apart from a short coffee break played with the kids all the time. A couple of other Mums stayed and were an extra pair of eyes which was great since I was still trying to make the icing for the dodgy Woolies sponge I was trying to turn into a birthday cake. The kids didn't care, half of them didn't have room for cake.

I'm so grateful that I'm at work today, Gemma is at daycare and Charlie is at school. I don't want to have to deal with the come down from all that sugar and excitement. I'm a coward.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

and you thought Torbenspang Huntington-Smythe was bad

How about Brfxxccxxmnpcccclllmmnprxvclmnckssqlbb11116" (pronounced "/ˈalˌbin/")

Freaks

Thursday, February 14, 2008

My Tiny Astronomer

On the slide with the baby.

Baby points into distance.

"Ball!"

"Ball!"

"Where's the ball honey? I can't see any ball."

This goes on for twenty minutes.

As we're leaving the park I finally realise that the ball he's talking about is the Moon that's visible in the afternoon sky.

"No honey, I can't get that ball for you. That's the Moon."

"Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball!"

"Sorry sweety, that's, like, a quarter of a million miles away (must Google that fact)."

"Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball! Ball!"

Baby proceeds to bitch and cry about the fact that I can't get the ball for him.

He's still obsessing about the moon after his bath and dinner.

It's funny, though, to think that in our age there is at least a very remote possibility that my little boy will one day stand on the moon.