What Happens Here?...

Not neccessarily a "parenting blog," just an honest account of my day to day.
My two partners in crime, my Son William and his favourite toy Bear!

Monday, October 18, 2010

Slobber Chops

William and Bear have gone to bed. It gives me an opportunity to tell you about our visit today from Miss B*, lets call her Brooke, and Miss C*, Chelsea. The two beautiful, twenty year olds, arrived on cue as William woke up from his afternoon nap. I quizzed Chelsea on her recent practical assessment with a Year 3 class and got bundles of information ranging from littlies wetting themselves to sounding out words by clapping to 'syll-a-bles'.

I gave Will some banana pieces for afternoon tea, he took the bowl and sat on his little sofa. Chelsea pipes up, “That's full of Potassium. Can you say Potassium?”
“Big word for a little boy.” I tell Chelsea. William looks up at Chelsea with confusion squinted in his eyes, Bear sitting beside him and dummy stuck in his mouth.
“Yeah I reckon,” Brooke agrees.
“He might try to say 'na-na' if you teach him that.” I continue. William looks to Brooke, back to me and then up at Chelsea. His eyebrows furrow closer together. I wish I knew what he was thinking.
“Potassium! Po-tas-si-um,” clapping her hands to the syllables. “ Po-tas-si-um!” Brooke and I look at each other and break into giggles...
“Ta for your dummy.” Brooke asks Will. He holds his dummy out to Brooke with stringy spit on it.
“Eerr, yuk!” Says Chelsea, full of anti-spit sentiment. Why do kids always give you the slobbery end of the dummy?”

When you're a mother (or nurse), you deal with getting pooped on, puked on, pee'd on, spat on and bled on. ( Refer to All Fun and Games 10/10/10 ). Being pee-d on is rather frequent with little boys. Kisses come with open mouths and I often end up with slobber on my nose cheeks and chin. (Accuracy is obtained over time.)

Chelsea didn't deal well with slobber. I used to be like that. I likened baby slobber to dog slobber. Taking a dummy off a baby was the equivalent to taking a ball off a dog with a mouthful of drool. You wrestle and play tug 'o war until it's finally in your grasp and when it is, there is no way that you feel comfortable holding onto it in case the yucky bit touches your skin...
The “anti-spit sentiment” is not something that lasts forever.
“Give Chelsea kisses goodbye.” I tell Will
“No that's ok I'm good!” She waves goodbye...

Thanks for visiting us today Miss B and Miss C, it was fun. xxx

C'mon, gimme a kiss!

*Names changed to protect Miss B and Miss C's privacy... ;p

1 comment:

Brooke said...

Hahahahahahaha what a lovely recap of our visit!!
its always eventful when miss B and miss C come to visit :) xxx