Rage Against the Unclean


Nothing gets me raging like the boys hitting each other, except the fucking lego room. It’s an abhorrent mess and I detest going up there.

It started out as a place to play with lego away from a widdle baby who would swallow them if within drooling distance, then became their lego refuge against the world and a way for me to avoid vacuuming them (ok, I rarely vacuum) or stepping on them all the time. That’s fine, but there are other things up there, too. Like all the toys we moved out of the playroom (which is another GD mess and one which gives Husband the night terrors), minus the toys we’ve donated back to charity from whence they came. Bless the parent who pays up to $40 in some cases, for licensed merchandise for my kids to wreak havoc on down the line. Anyhoo, those toys are usually organised somewhat, and loosely packed away in those ikea bins. There’s also a few cupboards, plus the outdoor couch when the weather is not outdoor-friendly, old baby capsule, baby toys, emergency food stores and more whatevers.

Cut to the peace and quiet I assume I’m getting when the boys race upstairs to play with the GD lego… my blood boils, my skin crawls and my adrenaline rushes when I hear the sounds of hitting and screaming and the smashing of lego. I feel their pain when creations become so much plastic rubble; I feel their pain when one brother won’t fucking share; I feel their pain when someone can’t play with these amazing toys made of so many tiny pieces; but do they feel my idiotic frustruction over the point of sharing a handful of special pieces out of ten thousand special pieces? Give me a fucking amen. I storm up there to allay their upset, only to need to escape from there to allay my own. The lego is spread from hell to breakfast around and under the couch. The other toys – which probably haven’t even been played with – are haphazardly in every other corner, windowsill and baby capsule. The cushions from the couch are anywhere but the couch. There was a rug up there, which was sort of an invisible barrier to keep the lego from getting lost in the nether regions of space, but it kept getting rolled up and eating as many lego as it was supposed to save. There is a table, but that is a new addition since the boys claim they are ready to stop throwing furniture and actually use it for its alleged purpose. There are also about twenty plastic tubs specifically for the GD lego, whether they be sorted by colour or just kept off the floor, whether they be sorted by ownership (please, no) or hastily swept up so they can’t be thrown away like Husband is often threatening (are you kidding? Those things are expensive!) to do. The point is that there is opportunity for the room not to look like it does.

In the past, I have gone up there (usually when 4yo was napping) to get my zen and sort through those tiny bastards, while the big boys played or built or at least left each other alone in their fortresses of bold-coloured plastic. It was nice. Then a day or two later, I would go up to tell them something and BAM! the zen is not only gone, but undone, by seeing the floor carpeted in those same tiny bastards. MF!

Now, I just try not to go up there. I have decided to let them duke it out until someone comes downstairs crying. If they will not keep the room even mildly respectable, I will refrain from intervening, except to yell unhelpful phrases up the stairs, along the lines of “share the bloody lego!” or “go to bed!”. I would go to bed, if I could, rather than deal with the dreaded lego room. Yes, great, come and show me what you made, then take it back and fight about it where I cannot hear about it. And bring me some earplugs while you’re at it.



Pop Quiz, Hotshots

You are a busy parent of 3 kids – boys – 7 and under. You are moderately active but really, really like sleeping and reading on the couch or in bed. You sneak chocolates behind your spouse’s and children’s backs and sit down as often as possible.

Q. After hosting some sort of casual soiree – during which thoughtful friends bring chocolates, wine and delicious slices, all save one friend head home while you and the last stay up til midnight, drinking wine and eating a few more (hundred) delicious treats. Do you

a) Be sick (after your friend leaves) before bed because you drank way more than necessary?

b) Eat the rest of the chocolates (there’s actually a lot left) between breakfast and lunch the following day before your kids come home from school?

c) Wake refreshed and happy to be alive and donate the rest of the yummies to the homeless shelter downtown?

Q. You cook your wonderful cherubs a full breakfast of scrambled eggs, breakfast potatoes (homestyle fries?) and baconised ham. It is all delicious and you shouldn’t miss out on any of the above because (insert innumerable obvious reasons here). Do you

a) Have a healthy serve of everything plus about a litre of tea to go with it?

b) Have an entirely unnecessary late snack and large lunch even though you are still sort of stupidly full from 6 hours ago?

c) Sweat it out at the gym and only nibble carrots for the rest of the day until you are actually hungry again?

Q. You are enjoying gym classes most days, and wear your sneakers even more often because they are great for your feet. But apparently they weigh about 6.5 pounds because at the doctor’s appointment where too many things are checked too often, you weight in around 10lbs heavier than what the scales at home say. Do you

a) Console yourself with food?

b) Reconsider your eating habits then binge on potato chips that you found hiding at the back of the pantry?

c) Get right back on myfitnesspal and stay under those miniscule 1200 calories per day?

Q. Your weekly routine includes almost daily gym classes and you post them regularly on your fitness tracking app to keep yourself motivated and see all the hard work you’ve been putting into your health. Do you

a) Start taking protein shakes after those super powerful weights classes and become what some may describe as almost chronically constipated?

b) Not update your calorie intake because the gym classes will even things out?

c) Get a toned and tightened ass within your goal time period?

Q. You turn up to the gym in some rad outfit and are ready to SWEAT IT OUT, HONEY! You are there on the wrong day. Do you

a) Get into the pool with the oldies even though you are pretty sure one of them tried to casually feel you up on his way across the pool during a previous class?

b) Google some new eatery because you are actually starving?

c) Try a new, really really hard class because you are ready for the next level of ass-kicking?

Q. Your kids are wonderful angels but today, they are sort of shits and you are counting down the seconds until bedtime. Do you

a) Open the wine at the dinner table?

b) Open the bottle to let it breathe while you take the kids upstairs at bedtime so it’s ready at the same time as your fave tv show starts?

c) Take some calming breaths and bring out the monopoly board?

Q. You feel like you have been doing a GREAT job these past 12 months by actually going to gym, rather than just letting them debit your bank account for nothing, but your clothes are not falling off you like thought they might. Do you

a) Get upset about it during a week of hormonal weakness at the gym while talking about it to your gym mentor person in front of other people?

b) Go home and eat whatever you can find?

c) Shake it off? Shake it off? You, you, you shake it off? Shake it off? Wa ha hooooo?

Q. Your youngest child asks about big boobs. Do you

a) Wish yours were bigger while saying that everyone is different and sometime bodies change for different reasons during someone’s lifetime?

b) Wish yours were bigger and leave it at that?

c) Say something like everyone is different then wear fitted tops from now on?

Q. Your children are very observant, and innocently comment on the size of your ass. Do you

a) Use your “Mom” status as reason enough to eat a shit ton of their halloween candy?

b) Eat more of their candy after they are in bed because half of it has wheat in it and one of your kids is gluten intolerant?

c) Playfully smack their adorable little botties and laugh all the way to the bakery?

Congratulations! You made it to the end of this quiz!

If you answered mostly ‘A’s, you may be a parent who has successfully put their kids to bed; you may even have a glass of wine in your hand right now and the tv remote in the other as you doodle online during the ad breaks. You are a successful multi-tasker and are doing a great job of this whole parenting bizzo.

If you answered mostly ‘B’s, you may be tired of your kids’ bullshit, but still love all their crazy shenanigans and embrace your “natural look” with no make-up or brushed hair and breakfast on your face some of the time. You only occasionally compare yourself to other mom’s at the gym who never seem to sweat through their airbrushed makeup. Good for you!

If you answered mostly ‘C’s, you may be a fictional character and can keep on living your happily ever after.



As a mother I know there will be poo, as a person I cannot stand poo. As a parent I have toilet trained 2.5 children and poo is the worst part.

Poo usually comes first when toilet training, at least it did for our two elder boys, then working on the wizzer is what takes the better part of the rest of their lives, or so it would seem, considering the state of their bathroom. Our youngest, however, has taken to bladder control like a champion, but won’t sit on the toilet when it really counts for love nor money, nor chocolates, toys nor the riches of middle earth. I don’t know how to overcome this hurdle, each time he sweetly repeats the mantra “no poo in the underpants” he’ll carry on playing and then *unpleasant sigh*, then I commence the business of cleaning them or just throwing them away. I have started putting him back in nappies/diapers after he does his morning man wee, and also after naps as that is when he usually goes, but geez! Where will it end? I live in fear on the afternoons of the days when he goes to preschool, of getting a nasty pair of underpants wrapped in a plastic bag in his backpack when I unpack the lunchboxes.

Of course, I know that we are very lucky that he has mastered his bladder this early. In fact, his brothers also did quite well in the toilet training department (and dare I say, the looks department), or perhaps my memory is foggy after a few short years. I also think that anytime I get someone else’s poo on my skin it destroys brain cells, so don’t quote me on that.