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May 16 A well-organized society

It was time for me to do an update on the secret society to which I acceded ar force of nature by becoming Mom. The company
Properties unshared benches square. A company
harsh laws, hierarchy duly respected on pain of ejection manu-facto.
We often talk of the sandbox and merciless war that prevails ... but nay friends, the real battle took place around our beautiful heads chubby and innocent.
the side of my house, the square is divided territorially and physically. Physically
by both sides, right and left and see there is no kind of political idea. Right, the slide, the left tube hide and seek. For the territorial
: by period year, and by time of day, benches installed around the sandboxes are occupied by one kind of population, whose origins thus vary according to time, and season.
But what exactly does it?
nannies ...
They evolve as a school of fish in the tide, and moon, except that they follow, not the Which are the requirements of children are supposed to deal with it .... To be honest, I actually have not completely finished the study of their migration.
Anyway, it is interesting to develop the subject. There are
Mamas, who in the morning between 10:30 and 11:55, invade all banks (except 1!) Side toboggan. Happy
and prolix, it quacks serious, swirling accent, dropping the discretion, in short, a kind festival singing 145 decibels in your face. The only remaining bench
being very generously given to the rest of the population, a lady called Tata over one of the most terrible rascals out of the corner (like Destructor version Hardcore prohibited under 45 years), and ... two or three moms at home with me.
Both say that the 2 other moms and I are close to our offspring, are not often sitting, traveling miles to recover the child, dragging him to his shovel, negotiate the bucket ...
And meanwhile, our fish of a thousand colors ignore the rest of the world. And when I say world, I speak mostly brats they are in charge.
This is the way they see you for the 150th time but still have not determined who you were, then all "their" children, although they have spotted her Dadam Fifils making mud pies , manages to slide jams, plays the peacekeepers on the dada ... The same
Dadam knowing all the names of all children ...
the afternoon our ban of fish migrates to the West (is it the sun ?...), with all the brats, and still no free bench. But there other species appear, and languages mix with accents, and when we mix all this with shouts, laughter and tears ... cacophony reigns. But still no
Babysitters in the sandbox, whatever their origin ... they are committed to not playing with a child but to defend the bench and his property. Do not you dare to squat, you'll be surrounded faster than your shadow, and pretty songs will become as fast as threatening chorus! And
themselves do not mix them, barely tolerate them, and if brawl shovel ago, will Crimping of buns! Ah yes!
What works well and exclusions formal, mom, or even group manger of the square enclosure with real threats they do not laugh even if you are not addressed.
Example: Nanny raises a bit too bold a guy by the arm, the mother replies "it is not but, oh, what next," the Nanny's shrieks, screams, threatens "we must not touch It was not taking it, I catch if I want, "the mother left with his kid under his arm ...
Counter-example: the boy that is supposed to charge the same Nanny pat on the head of my son with a rake, and guess who did not move, did not say a word, did not even notice. .. banco! The Nanny!

And when comes the weekend ... calm returns, the square is eerily empty, there is very rarely the kids in the week, and all the benches are at your disposal ...

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the Job

It's a bit that morning I woke up I should be screaming in your ears!
confess, instead, I sound much better in basic "ATAA" cluck, cluck! "
And no, it's not a cock!

When I say "at work !"... yeah, at times, I just want to put your head under the pillow and not come out, say for the next 25 years?

But now, when I was little There's a fairy that looked at my cradle and a magic wand, said "Abracadabra, she'll be Wonderwoman.
That is, except that I did not dress or the crown (so much better because I have not a head for hats in every way) or the lasso (and here I take exception, because that a lasso to catch a scoundrel who escapes from the square and well it can really be useful!). So who says
Wonderwoman, implies in fact, who "wants butter, butter and money c. .. the farmer! : We do not get enough.
While I wanted?
Man: done and Monchéri, well, next to Superman it's gnognotte!
Child: done and what Marmot! The seducer of sandboxes, the affectations, like blue eye corner, toothless smile, who waddles the butt. And yeah, in the family, we do not do things by half!
A job: I put the first in the list, since I've had it long before the men in my life. But politically speaking, it is not very correct ...
Look after my little one: something done every day, 24/24!

Bon ben so what am I complaining? Nothing, I assure you nothing!

Because in addition, but happiness, I had options gratos!
Two fine son, charming, well behaved, cute and affectionate (and here I kid you not!)
A country house, full of lovely old things, and beasts rodent when the monsoon is ...
and ... I could take over the very last option, your race, it is still super top:
Continue my job, but ... actually ... that's where it gets complicated ... the program is just the last few weeks ... exhausting! Known as the scoundrel, the child king, the little prince to his Mum was immediately realized that something that makes pictures was his worst enemy, he decided not to destroy, but to attach it! What gives
: Mum tapping on the keyboard, makes noise plays a well-known singer who gives him his pay at the end of the month, and a villain who literally hangs in Mum's lap, had a fit, stamps his feet, and if that does not , hide under the desk to distract attention from Mum called the machine and his pay ... and why all this? For the Mum in distress and always very late, cracks, and he put two or three short films Pix-argh, he claps his hands, and waddles like a proud peacock!

Well, and then, inevitably, we tell ourselves ... What is she doing there, then it should lament:
1) be the square
2) complete one or two mounts very very late
3) show short films to the future home of Geek.

So first, the future Geek still sleeping (rare enough to be notified in red!)
then, the square is going to go, breaking his back, making mud pies for all children with nurses who are stuck behind the benches (they believe to be traveling with!)
and then you see they are people who are breaks Ki-Kat-you're, well, I'm doing my break , déblatérage ...

But I'm not complaining ... I just take a big breath of fresh air, telling me that in a month it will get better ...

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It's called Desire ...

Spring is here! Cool! And what Spring, sun, sand, vacuum, shovel and bucket silver Nemo, Pom'potes galore, and ban (c) of the complete Babysitters!

So now, my little angel celebrated with dignity, and twice, his first birthday! And yes, because stepfamily = timetables not always compatible with the dates! So, Mr. not twice blown out his candle, but again asked more than its share of chocolate cake! And here I can say he is the worthy son of his mother, and I can not deny it because my looove cake I made myself just for him (and his brothers, and Monchéri and me!)
But with the passage of his status to that of real Baby boy, the animal has changed ... we encounter a dangerous phase of exploration of the lower limbs (I said SES, then not think wrong Thanks!)
The Crapule embarks ... Walk! And all potential hazards that go with ... lip blood due to mismanagement of the right foot when the left foot is the trunk flexion-extension on the coffee table that has a very bad idea not to push to make room for the unfortunate chin that knocks, Mom pants not stiff enough to serve Rigging, and proudly so butt hitting the ground heavily but ... Fortunately, the layers are still there to make shock absorbers!
But I'm proud! And he is proud! It's his hobby, his passion, his obsession of the moment. He holds out his hands toward us, and presto! on both feet, and we rounded back (and painful) we are doing what appears to be exactly 100 steps ... Downside: The Crapule not mastered quite yet the notion of "turning on itself smoothly," no, it is rather like that, I turn 180 degrees without setting flashing, and sometimes an unfortunate peton is lost in a huge be shoes!
But nothing stops or barriers in the Square, or the lack of quick response of his parents, or even the stairs! Up-down is another obsession of the moment! Oh, one walk, oh! Super ... and off he goes to new climbing before the eye of the lynx but Mum livid face ahead of Bobo to come!
I assure you, Climb-down, that it does not on its own two feet, no, its transport system for the time being still trekking on the butt, left leg bent, right leg used accelerator and on the floor, it flies!

And if not, in my life what's 9?
Oh well ... the crisis is my good lady, eh!
In fact, quite the 100 per hour as usual, by my silence proving ...
Especially now, where ... I'm always fearful of the above-cited animal full time, in parallel, I work from home (while still above-mentioned animal is asleep, because otherwise this is the crisis as soon as I touch the computer ... No Mum, it's not your computer is in MOA!), I finalized the wedding (oh yes, it is confirmed I'll drop my name from JF, and stop live in sin is that foo foo Benoit will be!), and I do two or three things and more because my day is not full enough !
Monchéri And in all this?
It is well, Thanks for asking! And then, well he is in Switzerland ...

So here I speak not much here, but I have a truck full of excuses all the more valid than the others, whose primary is 1 year old (in case you did not quite understand! ), weighs 11.150 kilograms and is 79 cm ... has the most beautiful blue eyes of the earth, and said "Dada" when I said "Maaaman" but "Maman" to "eat" and "Maman" for Mom when I say nothing!

ps: Desire is the spring, eh! Because it was expected and we got very cold in the meantime!