X-Rated Mummy.

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I think I Am A Sado Machoist.

Or maybe I fell over that precipice and down into the depths of insanity one sunny day without realising it.I love parties. I am determined that each season or milestone be celebrated. Notched up on life`s great wooden bedpost for prosperity. A good time was had by all on this day. Let the memory warm us later in the sunset of our lives as we rock in a wicker chair, the wind caressing our silver locks...or if bald, the lovely cactus jungles that older folk seem to spurt from nasal and aural orifices........ in some home, somewhere far.,far...... hopefully ... far forward in time from now.

"Is this what you class as `resting`?"scolds hubby in his finest ` I know best` tone.I am stood in the kitchen, on one foot, looking like a bloated flamingo. I deftly push the end of the crutch against the touch pad key on the microwave and it duly hums into action,. Microwave knows her place after toaster nearly took an early morning flying lesson, courtesy of one manic mummy. "Just wanted to put the nails on the witches` fingers before the halflings awake.!" I cheerfully explain. I stand back and admire my handiwork. Sixty sausages boiled, chiseled and topped with a carved tomato nail, ketchup glued to the end. Witches` fingers. I point at the plate and with pride enquire."So what do you think of that?" A moment`s silence filled with hubby`s head nodding up and down while he searches for the right words to describe the culinary work of art laid out before him. " Yeah....lovely.Kids love sausages!" Indignation inflates my chest, a timely air sac between hubby and I."Sausages?" I cry," Sausages...?"I hold one up, the tomato nail slides off onto my dressing gown. Sisters together in exasperated solidarity. "This is a...." Now I search for the apt wording," ....not just any old sausage....It is culinary craftsmanship at it`s......it`s pinnacle!" Laughing hubby,"Okay! They are amazing!" Hubby should thank his stars that I am not a high maintenance type of wife,I think smugly. Easily satisfied,am I.My grudges always have a statue of limitations.

Hubby."What`s that on your cheek?" I brush and find a seaweed cut out mouth. "Oh,thanks!" I hum" I wondered where that  mouth had got to." As I press it down onto a mini pizza surrounded by it`s clones. All grinning manically with mini tomato noses and olive eyeballs.  In a few hours, this house will be overrun with thirty small bodies. Each and everyone a little powerhouse of energy to be amused, entertained, fed, watered and  contended with. "You need to slow down," hubby yields his gem of advice,pointing a foot in the splint. 

It is just after five in the morning. I am stood, like a giant flamingo. Foot in a splint.Various plates crammed with the Halloween spirit. Decorations galore. Balloons awaiting with bated breath. At this point, every time at this point, I always stop, only for a second mind as I just don`t have the time to dawdle. I always stop and think `Why do I do this to myself?` Especially `Why do I do this to myself when I have a broken foot?`


I might have a stone called `Mossy` who I like to spend an evening with on the sofa, here and there, deep in debate on such weighty topics as `Why do rubber washing up gloves always make your hands stink?` I`ve even been known to stick plasters on my nipples in an attempt to wean small beings from the booby. None of these things would fit the criteria for being certified as `nutty`. Neither do I feel the need to compete with other mummies. I haven`t even got a hairstyle let alone a recognised parenting style. Neither do I desire to win the Alfalfa....or whatever it is....Mummy tiara.

I do it for my little ones. For the warm glow I see on their faces, on their friends` faces. Because each day really is a gem. Because life isn`t a dress rehearsal. I am determined to be happy. To enjoy life and seize it by it`s goolies.This is it. So, I will continue on this quest. I am sure my Witches` Fingers are going to be legendary. Sausages indeedy!

Happy Halloween！

Going Crutchless...And I Ain`t Talking Knickers!

"Here is an explanation in English," Doctor pushes a handwritten note over to me.

`Lisfranc fracture-dislocation of second metatarsal with extensive periosteal reaction on either side of both third and fourth metatarsals`

"Okay?" enquires the rather dishy doctor specialist softly. I steal a glance at hubby who is reading the Japanese version and nodding in complete comprehension.

Not wanting to look like the only person in the room who hasn`t got a clue what is going on...even though I am...."Yes,Dr Dishy. That`s cleared it up for me!" I cheerfully lie despite my raging foot. I surreptitiously slide the paper into my coat pocket. Google later.

"We need to totally immobilise your foot in a splint. You must rest," stresses Dr Dishy and I wonder if he creases his eyebrows like that during sex. Oh...positive sign....maybe I am already healing if I am thinking about sex. "Come back next week and we`ll do another X-ray. If the bones haven`t aligned properly, we`ll have to operate and  put shunts in between the bones to help them heal properly....."

I felt the room lurch. Operation? No....no...no...no...I don`t do operations. I do parties, bbqs. I`ve even been known in my wilder days to do the odd striptease in public but operations....oh no no no. Not since that movie based on a true story about some girl waking up during the op and feeling the surgeons wiggling their hands around in her insides.

"Let`s get this splint on!" smiles Dr Dishy as a nurse efficiently strolls over pushing a tray with lots of white material on it. "Oh,...white?" I ask. "Yes," smirks back Dr Dishy doing that cute thing again with his eyebrows. "Is that the only colour available," I enquire. "Erm..." Dishy stammers. "It`s just that white isn`t really me, if you know what I mean?" I continue," It just doesn`t do anything for my skin tone.....and it`s going to get dirty so quickly!"

"Love..they only have white." hubby interjects, casting a smile around the room which instantly reactivates doctor and nurses back to their task. "Can I have a spare one,Dr?" which results in confused looks all round. "For when I have to wash one." I explain feeling exasperated that such simple logic has eluded all and sundry. "Oh no," startles Dr Dishy," Please do not remove this. It must be left intact. Do you understand?" Giving a little sniff, I nod to confirm.

Over at  the `Crutch Training Centre` I did my time. Diligently watched demonstration and then practised the  `those who have a fractured disloyal meta something with other meta somethings with allergic something or others` gait.

I waited with bated breath for my shiny new crutches to emerge. If they don`t have red or gold, black would be ideal. They`d go with anything and I have a pair of boots..or one boot in black fake snakeskin that would look awesome. Throw in my furry black Gap bag, should look pretty cool for someone in pain.Maybe I`ll splash out on a pair of big Garbo type sunglasses. That way, I can grimace away and no-one will notice. I`ll just look like some poor tragic figure. Battling her way through the pain and misery but with elegance.

The nurse handed me a pair of dreary grey, battered things which I promptly handed over to the old lady waiting patiently next to me. "There you go,dear!" To my horror,the nurse handed them back to me. Looking at hubby. "Oh no.You`ve got to be kidding me..." as hubby wheeled the chair over, I glared at the crutches hoping they`d bend in half under my steely gaze  " A white splint and now this....There`s only so much a girl can take,you know!" I whisper, almost in tears. Turning round to look at hubby quietly pushing us down the corridor. " You did ask them about a red or gold pair,  didn`t you ?"

Bending over hubby kisses my ear and says " Cup of tea,darling!"Oh well,.....I suppose I could shine them up with some ribbons or something...... 

Dem Bones, Dem Bones...Dem Broken Bones.

The Bat Twins went on a school field trip today. Getting up at six to prepare packed lunches is a delightful experience in itself. Getting up at six to prepare packed lunches with right foot, an overnight virtuoso in impersonating a lower limb with acute Elephantitus, was heavenly. Orgasmic even.

Hey!"calls hubby entering the room, waving the envelope I brought home from the clinic last night." What`s this?" I deftly toss pancakes onto the plates of my three little birds waiting impatiently with mouths agape. "Stuff from the clinic." I confirm. "What did the doctor say to you?"enquires hubby, guiding me gently to the sofa and displacing Fatso the Feline unceremoniously from his cushion throne. Clouds of hair rise in protest, mirroring Fatso`s mood. "Well..."I pondered while sustaining world peace at the kitchen table,"....he waffled on about something in  English..." Hubby looking down at a letter written by the doctor. "Did he mention something about meta.....metatarsals? Broken metatarsals?" I laughed."Yeah...I couldn't understand what he was going on about at first. But I reckoned he was chit chatting about music.Was into rock or something. I was a bit surprised. He doesn`t look the type. He didn`t seem impressed when I told him `Bon Jovi` rocked it for me actually!" With a great rolling of his eyes, "Love, you have broken and dislocated metatarsals in your foot. Broken bones!"

Poor right foot. I have let you down badly. Here was I cursing at you for your Prima Donna ways and the fault lies with me and my lack of medical Japanese lingo. Limb lost in translation. If there aren`t any flashing lights with sirens or electric shock pads involved, I tend to switch off until I can confer with hubby, on mutual linguistic ground on the diagnosis.

I remember, a few years back, going to a dentist  for a check up. I`d been having problems with one particular tooth . I understood most of  what the dentist, a lovely man, was saying until we arrived at the diagnosis. He tried so hard and patiently to explain but there I sat, bewilderment clouding my face. Off he rushed to a cupboard and enthusiastically brought a book over, fumbled through the pages then passed it to me proudly.

`Periodontal disease is a form of gum disease but more powerful and stronger.With no fast interruption, the tooth tissue rubs away and teeth drop out. (See Figure 1.1 and the Figure 1.2) The infectious people may sometime watch an `elongation` of the tooth due to gum withdrawal symptoms. The tooth look longer, but it is a hallucination to the viewer watching his mouth. Tooth expose itself more on daily way. Teeth look bad. Stingy breath is popular in such situations. Heart, liver, stomach may feel bad too. In severe case, teeth must be evacuated out of the aural area and reformed.`

Clutching my mouth and forgetting myself for a moment, I half  shout out in horror "Oh no!" upon which, Mr Dentist looking over my shoulder suddenly grabs the book and apologises. "Very sorry.Wrong page."      

Bum over Booby....

....down the stairs I tumbled. Bum bum over booby. The first night at a new job. Three minutes max and there I was causing kaos, concern and mayhem. Lying, spreadeagled at the bottom of the steps...head on the bottom step, legs four steps up, top positioned nicely to reveal a tum tum I would have been proud to bare a few years ago but now  resembling one of those tummies sported by a portly maidens you ogle in oil paintings in a gallery. Employer of a whole three minutes, shouting down if I was okay.

It has to be a record.

"What happened?" enquired Doc at the emergency clinic. "I fell down the stairs.",I answered in broken Japanese as it`s hard to compose a succinct sentence when your right foot is  the size of a football and throbbing harder than a speed junkie`s heart on a fix. Then felt the urge to add, just in case he assumed alcohol must be a factor at this time of night,...me being a mum and all."Work!"  He turned to me startled and half laughing asked," You job is falling down stairs?"

I laughed back. Logical conclusion perhaps as I only came to this very same clinic a few weeks ago and saw the very same doctor with my left foot swollen up like a football this time. Four years ago, I damaged my Achilles tendon. A nasty affair involving much gritting of teeth and profanity mouthed silently whenever the slightest weight was put down on that foot. It took me two hours to get to a nearby hospital  twenty minutes away, pushing the twins in the double stroller. By the time I got there, I swear I felt like one of those Red Indians depicted in the movies, who had ingested some magical herb and  transported onto on a higher plain with the pain. Doctor told me to not walk for a month,strapped up my foot,gave me a pair of crutches and sent me home.  There I was.......pushing the double stroller...one hop at a time on my crutches. On the way home, I paused at a set of traffic lights. My son , aged 2 at the time decided to test his strength and threw his sippy cup into some nearby bushes. Not yet used to balancing my weight with a badly injured foot, I fell over reaching for the cup and got the crutches tangled up in the foliage. Mobile phones hung out of a few waiting cars, clicking for prosperity the scene of one big foreign woman, upside down in a roadside bush shouting a few juicy words . Next day, the crutches were embarked on their quest to collect as much dust particles as possible and the no walking policy......Ho hum...


Unfortunately, not being able to follow the Doc`s orders  resulted in recurrent confrontations in the old Achilles tendon department. Only this very morning I remarked to hubby that my foot..the left one that is...was starting to feel better. Now here I am,in agony with the right one. Thank you,God for that at least.

"Why did you do this?" demanded hubby as I hobbled through the door stinking of `hospital`. "Well...," I paused for fake artistic impact," I thought as my left foot was finally getting better..rather than let life get a little tame, I`d just throw myself down a flight of stairs...for the sheer hell of it... and see what happens. In fact, my limbs were all doing `Rock,Scissors,Paper` to vie for that 15 minutes of `X-ray and  follow up doctor consultation` fame. The right foot won!" I shrug sarcastically which is totally lost on a disgusted hubby waving a cowering icepack.

He should be used to this by now. By `this` I mean `my life`. By `he`, I mean hubby.My family long ago resigned themselves to the fact that my life is full of weird, wonderful and sometimes incredibly vexing occurrences. My mum takes me on holiday to Greece....I end up in hospital,on a drip with severe sunburn on my face . The little girl in the hotel room next to ours actually ran off down the corridor screaming when she saw me. Another time, I leave hospital after recuperating from an illness.Only two hours later I dislocate my knee and end up back in hospital. The list goes on and on and on....

"Well,you certainly made a good first impression with your new employers," giggles hubby. Here to please...here to please. "What are you like!" he squeezes my knee. Well,I am like a girl with a huge swollen right foot just now.........

A Simple Misunderstanding.

I have three gorgeous kids..... who I don`t want to kill most of the time. Two of them are little Princesses. One a wee bit bigger than the other. The bigger Princess is graduating into the whole Barbie doll scene. A tad more sophisticated, I was informed haughtily  than the whole Disney Princess doll scene the smaller,chubbier Princess is currently lounging in. And lounge they do,my little Princess`s adopted `siblings`, Belle,Aurora,Ariel,Cinderella and Jasmine are to be found most nights on the sofa.Snuggled up to my hubby as he slurps his beer while watching the current season of `House`  in Japan. I did feel a tad threatened at first but they are all one man gals. Unlike that floozy Snow White who was shacked up with seven guys one time. Anyway....I digress....

During an episode of `House` one particular moment resulted in hubby, who was in the act of downing a particularly large gulp of beer, to burst into an abrupt  bout of boisterous hilarity, causing him to forcefully expel his mouth of all beer contents all over the sofa and his mini groupies. A calamitous situation indeed. Aurora looked as if she`d barfed all down herself, Belle`s mascara was starting to run, Jasmine looked like something from a wet T-shirt contest. I took off their tiny gowns and hand washed them,wiped the pert boobies with a bum wipe and brushed their hair back into place.

Wee Princess was not impressed the following morn. I explained that Daddy had accidentally `poured` beer on her little pals but their dresses had been taken off and were drying in a sunny breeze as we spoke.Babysitter arrives and off out I toddle.

A couple of hours later I return and whilst in the kitchen making the sitter a cuppa....what a nice employee I am...........I hear wee Princess sobbing her heart out. Concerned,I dropped teabag back into cup and into the next room to find ta concerned babysitter kneeling in front of my wee one.

Babysitter. "Who is Dolly

Wee Princess. "She`s my best friend!"....sniffle sniffle

Babysitter. "Where does she live?"

Wee Princess.  "Here. In Asagaya".

Babysitter. "What did your Daddy do again?"

Wee Princess. "Made her drink beer and took her dress off....." Breaks into huge sobs with tendrils of nasal mucus along for the sympathy.


I thank the heavens above that the lady concerned knows my husband and I otherwise only the Lordy knows where or what this could have led to......

Halloween looms