Sleepless Nights

Author: Veronica

  • Alien Abductions?

    My hairbrush is missing and the only thing I can think of is Alien Abduction.

    I mean, it is entirely plausible for a shipload of Aliens to float down to earth while I am busy and abduct my hairbrush.

    Right?

    What definitely in no way could possibly have happened would be a Toddler Abduction. A toddler abducting my hairbrush? DON’T BE SILLY. That would NEVER HAPPEN.

    No matter that the hairbrush went missing right after I brushed Amy’s hair and made her scream. Right after she looked at the hairbrush and told me it was a ‘Bad bad bad NO HURTS ME!’ naughty hairbrush implement of TORTURE AND DEATH.

    No, the Aliens totally took it.

    Wanna know why?

    See, I have this theory. Mothers will agree with me; aliens all over the world are RIGHT NOW carrying out ‘Operation Hairbrush Removal’ from the bathrooms/bedrooms/toy boxes of sleep deprived women.

    They plan to test our DNA and work out why we can cope with many nights of teething, puke, screaming, crying and NOT SLEEPING, when our hairier, stronger counterparts tend to fall apart a little bit. I think it is the sleep that gets the men in the end.

    [I have to add, there are some men completely cut out for puke and sleepless nights and those men had better lock their hairbrushes up, because damn if those Aliens won’t want to test their DNA too]

    The only other reason I can think of for an Alien abducting my hairbrush, is that said Alien is on a mission to make all women look like haystacks. That way, their husbands won’t want to have sex with them and then, when they move onto abducting people, they won’t complain half as much about the probing.

    But that is just my theory.

    What do you think?

  • Vote for Me? PLEASE?

    Dear readers,

    My name is Veronica and I have a problem.

    It is only a small problem and you, dear reader are completely able to solve this problem for me.

    See, I entered this competition with a post of mine.

    Now, I need people to vote for me.

    I entered last time Top School Fundraisers had a competition too, only I didn’t have any readers that I could beg for votes then.

    So please, vote for me here?

    Please? It is in a handy dandy little poll box and all you have to do is click next to my name.

    Click.

    Click.

    I will be forever grateful and humble and you look so pretty today! Honest. And there will be love. Lots of love (in a good way, not an icky way, promise. Unless you like icky….)

    [A return to my regular program is scheduled for this evening, feel free to return then if you don’t want to vote. Meanie]

  • Are The Mice Plotting?

    I was sitting on the couch last night, happily blogging and writing emails and OH MY FREAKING GOD, was that just a MOUSE?? SKITTERING PAST MY FEET INTO THE KITCHEN?!

    Visions of the other night rattle around in my head.

    I think. I am very good at thinking. No, my brain wasn’t playing tricks on me. Yes it was a mouse and it is now IN MY KITCHEN!

    Sneakily, I do my Sneaky McSneakerson thing and sneak into the kitchen, book in hand to use as a schwacker. The mouse is nowhere to be seen. I move shoes, the rubbish bin, the dog food container, nothing.

    No mouse to be seen.

    I sit back down, ready to finish reading and I hear it. Nibbling noises in the kitchen.

    NIBBLING.

    Just as I am about to get up and look, a SECOND mouse runs past. TWO MICE! IN MY KITCHEN!

    I stand up.

    I sneak. I can still hear the mouse nibbling. I am stealthy and silent. I am one with the floor.

    I am hoping like hell I don’t step on a mouse in bare feet.

    My schwacker and I slide around the corner….

    And discover an empty kitchen.

    AGAIN!

    Fucking McFuckerton Fucker Mice Fuckers.

    [Heh, I wonder if I will get googled for mice fuckers now]

    Arghhhhhhh!

    I can just see the mice, running laps around the house, just to watch me EXPLODE.

    Mouse A. ‘Alrighty guys, I will run out there and let her see me. Once she has seen me, I will disappear back here to you and Mouse B can do it’s thing’

    Mouse B. ‘What do I do again?’

    (audible sigh)

    Mouse A. ‘You run into the giant-space-that-is-empty, past the big-pink-thing-that-moves-and-swears and seriously, how do those things cope without FUR? I mean, really?’

    ‘…Anyway, past the pink-moving-thing, under the big-white-box-that-is-cold, over to the big-bag-of-mouse-heaven, grab some heavenly food, climb the tall thing and run over to the hole. Then come back here to us. We will take turns until the big-pink-thing-with-strange-fur explodes’

    Mouse B. ‘Okay then, who goes first?’

    [audible sigh]

    (It is here that I start to suspect that Mouse B is stupid and deserves to die)

    (Actually they all deserve to die)

    Mouse A. ‘Any other questions?’

    Mouse B. ‘Uh yes, um when do I…..’

    Mouse A. ‘Any OTHER questions?’

    [Mouse silence]

    Mouse A. ‘Okay we will begin. Word of advice though? DO NOT ALLOW YOURSELVES TO BE SCHWACKED, SMUSHED, SQUISHED, SQUASHED, SMOOSHED, OR TRODDEN ON.’

    ‘Everyone clear?’

    [Noises of mouse agreeing]

    Mouse A. ‘Okay then! Off we go…..’

    See? The mice ARE plotting. I am totally not going insane. Yet.

  • Little Ray of Sunshine.

    I have been down lately.

    Very down.

    We didn’t try and conceive this month, despite me knowing when I was ovulating. We just, didn’t try. I am still grieving for the loss of hope a little.

    However, not having the build up to my period will be nice. Knowing that I HAVE to stock up on tampons, rather than run out at 3am and silently curse the gods (and then curse Nathan when I realise that he no longer has a mobile phone and I can’t ring him to PICK ME UP SOME DAMN TAMPONS OR MY PMS? WILL KILL YOU AND I WON’T BE RESPONSIBLE).

    Ahem.

    However, I seem to have this small child who just won’t let me wallow.

    See, I was all sad (again, lets just blame it on hormones and feeling grief for friends) about not trying this month and OMG a whole bunch of stuff and Amy climbed into my lap.

    She started singing, ‘Mummeeeee holda babeeeeee, mummeeeeeee an babeeeeeee’ very softly as I hugged her.

    Then she pulled my head down, so my cheek was against her forehead, and told me quite sternly when I tried to move ‘No! Mummeee hugss pleas.’

    Then I died from the cute.

    Then she does things like this –

    She is OBVIOUSLY practising her regal look for when she marries a prince. Thankyou Nathan for taking this photo while I was out, getting a much needed sanity saving break. <3

    This one is classic though. This was taken this evening. At 9.30pm. 1.5 hours AFTER I put Amy to bed.

    Yes, those are indeed a pair of my underwear. Yes, she did indeed put them on herself. The pointing? She was asking to be placed back into bed, WHILE STILL WEARING THE UNDERWEAR.

    No, I didn’t let her keep them on.

    No, I have no idea why they were in her cupboard.

    This afternoon when I had to resettle her, I discovered her wearing a size 000 bodysuit around her waist and 2 singlets on each leg. I think it is time I did some serious teaching of what clothes go where.

    And how to put them away after you pull them out of the drawer.

    I love my daughter.

  • Children For Sale

    I was searching for a book I read as a kid, when I needed to press the back button.

    It was so good, I had to take a screenshot.

    Is that where all the children actually come from? Oztion?

    Damn, and all this time I thought it was The Stork.

    [Sorry about the picture quality. Resizing the image seemed to mess it up]