Pregnancy and birth can render your pelvic floor muscles practically useless, condemning you to the misery of embarrassing leaks with every cough or sneeze or, alternatively, a lifetime of incontinence pants. On the bright side, if you opt for the pants, you will always be ready for moments like these…..
Last December, I discovered the real meaning of “cold turkey”. On the Sunday before Christmas we had invited English friends over for a traditional Christmas lunch. It was a typical December day in Sydney with temperatures peaking at around 35 degrees so possibly roast turkey was not the most suitable food choice but still, we are English and it was Christmas. I put the turkey in the oven at 10am and when our lovely friends arrived at noon, I went to put the potatoes in, only to find the oven and the turkey both stone cold. After quick CSI-style forensic investigation that would have taught Sherlock Holmes a thing or two, it became apparent that Zach, aged four at the time, had turned the oven off pretty much as soon as I had turned it on. His rationale: “It’s far too hot to have the oven on today, Mummy.”
Zachary, 6, became obsessed by countries and their flags during the recent world cup and decided to make a series of flags to stick on his bedroom wall. He sat rather pensively with his crayons and paper, about to begin but clearly having some difficulty deciding which way to orientate his paper for maximum effect. Unable to decide he sought my advice; “Mummy, do you think I should draw this flag landscape or Portugal?”
Katie, 7, was recently invited to a friend’s house for tea.
“What’s your favourite food?” asked the thoughtful mum.
“Pasta,” was the emphatic reply.
“Wonderful!” replied the mum enthusiastically, “Do you like macaroni cheese?”
Katie gave the idea some consideration before replying, “No, thank you. I only like Cheddar.”
My lovely friend Lorna’s son Dougie was only four when he started school. He came home one day and very enthusiastically told his mum he had been in the iced tea room all afternoon. “Wow, what a cool school my son is attending,” thought Lorna, “Book me in.” He then said he had learnt to type his name on the screen…he meant the ICT room.
Matthew and Ben, 10, have had their second “relationships” lesson today. They skipped off very excitedly to school because last week they had learnt all the “funny proper” words for body parts. They came running home today to tell me they knew how babies were made, although their explanation did suggest they had not paid full attention last week when the “funny proper” words were discussed. Matthew said very seriously that in order to make a baby all the man has to do is put his peanuts in his wife’s Volvo.
Clearly the boys are having some trouble with anatomy. Zach, 6, has a new teacher called Mr. Nicholls, a fantastic guy who has been around the block a few times so is not surprised to hear that behind his back some of the older children call him Mr. Nipples. Zach referred to him as Mr. Nipples yesterday and immediately burst into fits of laughter.
“What’s so funny, Zach?” I asked.
“Nipples are very funny,” he replied, barely able to contain himself.
“Why are they so funny, what are they?” I was intrigued.
“Those funny dangly bits that hang down either side of your willy.”
My beautiful friend Mandy had a similar experience when her son Dylan, 11, had lessons in “relationships” and “American history” on the same day and had clearly paid great attention in both classes. He came home proudly saying he could recall the names of several US presidents, “George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Ronald Reagan and Bill Clitoris.”
Now, I can never remember, was President Clitoris before or after President Bush?