Thursday, April 24, 2008

publicly transported

Despite pulling the preparations together in about five minutes flat, yesterday went well. Daniel was all "Rosie, I go on da TWAIN!!" to the creche lady when we left the gym (which I got to a half hour late wearing not so gym wear and a pair of thongs but best of all, ah found mah pants! and so was wearing them)(hey, do you want to know about an interesting but rather annoying phenomena going on here? Yannow how I blabbed about my new keyboard is giving me mad typing skilz? Yeah, well, my skilz are getting SO mad that now I'm LESS accurate all over again maybe because now I'm used to this keyboard. Suck value of said? High. Seriously) then we got on the TRAM instead and Daniel was all *gulp* and sat glued to my lap and as silent as a little lamb the entire way into the city, and I'm certain that the phrase dominating his tram experience was "RIPPED OFF WHERE'S MAH TWAIN?".

We got off several (okay, one) stop away from our actual real destination so we could beat our way through the crowds. Extra motivation points for getting off here? A freakin' FOUNTAIN. And a whole lot of pigeons, and the existence of the above seemed to make up for the deception I pulled on Daniel when his train ride turned out to be a tortuous sojourn on a tram instead.

While I was in the seat at the orthodontist getting my latest mishap repaired, Daniel was in the waiting room (no kidding, the place is so cool that it's like visiting grandma. Apart from the obvious instruments of torture, I LOVE IT THERE. Last time we were there Daniel played with a train set in the hallway right outside of where I was being manhandled, and the orthodontist's nurse spent more time with him than she did in my mouth - and the orthodontist was COOL with that [I KNOW! ] but this time he [Daniel, not the orthodontist] sat all the way out there at the reception desk, like NOT EVEN NEAR ME, and kept himself busy with the toys out there) and he'd wander in every now and yell "MUM!!" and then he'd wander back out to the way more interesting train set way out there. Repeat. Then I heard "MUM!" for the seventeenth time, the variation here being it was mere seconds before the receptionist came rushing in saying "uh, I think he's done a pooh".

Aside: does my rampant and rabid use of parentheses detract from the point of the story? Much?

To continue: People, I was blooded as a true mother yesterday with Daniel publicly pooping in his big boy pants. THANK GOD for me, the kid is a wee bit backed up at present (which is very odd because I do believe I gave birth to a descendant of Mr Whippy) so rather than his usual squishy deal, he presented me with a very neat, very containable package that barely soiled his Thomas The Tank Engine underdoovers.

Which is news you TOTALLY needed to hear, but in the interests of truth in the media, whammo! It's yours. Enjoy. You're welcome.

Then we walked back to the fountain and Daniel practically threw himself in seconds after her hurled in puppy dog, and then we caught the tram back home and this time he LOVED it. Man, it was packed though, and catching public transport with a stroller blows.

*waves breaking on beaches, sands through the hourglass*

Later that day, we had to take the fake grandparents to the airport for their trip away. We got to sit around drinking coffees while Daniel acted like an abandoned child in the play area over there. Then we hung around waiting for them to board, and then Daniel lost his mind when they left, all "NOO, GRAMMA NOOOOOO *sobs* POPOFFS NOOOO!" before trying to run after them. Tthen we watched and watched until the plane finally taxied down the runway and took off from the OTHER end so we didn't get to see the darn thing go whoosh, which is why we stayed until practically the wee hours of the morning. Okay, it was only 8.30, but still, RIPPED OFF

Their car is parked outside for the next two weeks and Daniel's noseprint tells the tale. He's been adhered to the window all morning saying "Gramma? Popoffs? Gramma? Popoffs? Gramma....?"....

and now I must away and deliberate as to whether or not I want to wash my hair.

Life is full of complicated decisions, eh?

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