Browsing Tag

mama

kids inc

Anyone knows how to cure Bag Lady Odor?

It’s not for me, obviously, because I smell wonderful all the time. But seriously, I need a cure for a severe case of bag lady odor. And I need more constructive comments than moth balls and talcum powder.

See, it’s actually for my baby girl. My beautiful baby girl, whom I love to bits. Who also smells like a bag lady every morning. And not just any ordinary bag lady but the kind that has been living in an attic for the past 25 years surviving solely on the fungi she grew in her armpits. Yeah, *that* kinda bag lady.

It’s bizarre, really. Every night she goes to bed all clean and smelling like rainbows and strawberries. Then 7 hours in her cot (in an air-conditioned room, mind you), she wakes up and… BAG LADY. It’s not even the smell of body odor after a vigorous workout, which would be perfectly normal seeing how she squirms and grunts all night. But it’s the unmistakable smell of an 85-year-old lady who’s lived in an attic. I kid you not.

I suppose it’s not a big deal because it does go away after a shower, but for a little lady, that’s just not cool. I mean, ok, if it’s just a phase that goes away after a while, that’s fine and Mama can find a way to not pass out while picking her up in the morning. But what if it never goes away and even when she’s 25, she still has to rush to the toilet every morning to ward off the bag lady odor. I feel for the dude who becomes my son-in-law and wakes up on their honeymoon to his grand-aunt Ingrid.

I tried googling it, but nobody seems to have that problem, so I guess I’m all on my own here. Any suggestions would be helpful.

Oh wait, Kirsten, if you’re reading this and wondering why no boy is asking you out, Mommy tried her best and it’s just incurable. The best shot you got is hoping that these nice people will find a way to make the smell disappear.

Kidspeak

The Da Vinci Code

the hair that is

Words fail to describe how awesome my coiffure is

I have no idea how it happened, but in the past week, my boy has morphed into a non-stop talking machine. Ok, the only recognizable word so far is mama (which he calls with such emotion), and the rest of it is like a bunch of gibberish. But I’m actually convinced it’s actually a language. with actual syllables and words that mean something.

Listening to babies talk, you’d be tempted to just dismiss it as nonsense, or random sounds that they make for fun. But I’ve been observing him for days now, and there’s so much feeling going into his conversations that I’m pretty sure he’s trying to say something. So I’ve been trying to have extended conversations with him, trying to decipher the code.

Tru: Mama, dapaeljfes kenify juaper sakejr.

Me: Not right now, honey. You’ve got to finish your porridge first.

Tru: Dadyear tatare feislr klake.

Me: But we’re going to the library tomorrow. Today we’ll do something else ok, maybe we can go the park for a walk later.

Tru: Fasfer taerje glear leraes! Jaelr eeleares arj! issejiear sakme uwahrae!

Me: I thought you liked going to the park. We can play with all the kids and chill out…

Tru: DAJEAREASJRAIESTOIATSDGAJGAJKETIOA!!!!! ESTJLDGFGAKJSTILESAJLKDGLKADJFLKSDJF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: Ok, ok, calm down. We’ll go to the library today instead. Sheesh!

And this goes on for quite a while, as his voice gets louder and increasingly worked up. He’s even got accompanying hand gestures to emphasize his points from time to time. And he’ll look at you with this intense gaze, as if he’s pouring out his heart to you in that one conversation. It totally cracks me up.

I’ve also been trying to teach him real English words, but he probably thinks it’s too lame to learn 1 word at a time and he prefers going on his soliloquies.

I suspect he’s trying to teach me his language instead, cos that’s so much cooler than speaking English.

Kidspeak, milestones & musings, the breast things in life are free

Mom’s the word

My boy just said his first word and its MAMA!!! Woohoo! A milestone, I say.

Hang on while I do a victory dance.

The first word is a big deal. Out of the 250,000 words in the English language, Mama is the chosen one. Ok, technically, it’s not an official word, but in my dictionary, it sure counts. The husband would claim that it was actually “Mum mum”, which could just as easily be in reference to food, but he was looking in my general direction when he said it, so there.

And it doesn’t count as cheating even though I’ve been repeating Mama to him about 500 times a day. I mean, he’s the only person I’ve got to talk to, so might as well spread some propaganda while I’m at it.

As James Brown would say, “I feel good!” Almost makes up for all the sacrifice. Just almost.