Crashed and burned: what is it with firemen?

Remember when you used to get really excited when the fire brigade showed up just because you got to perve at all the firemen? It was especially fun at work so you could giggle like a schoolgirl with your similarly deviant colleagues. For me it only seems like yesterday…wait a minute it was only yesterday! Standing in a fire station yesterday with my two year old in my arms I found myself being very friendly with a hot fireman who was kind enough to be showing my son his engine. Now I wouldn’t call it flirting, because people who flirt know what they are doing. What I was doing...well I don’t think there is a word for that. 

Ok ok, so he didn't really have his shirt off, and alright, this wasn't really the one I was
talking to but this does make sense of my foot in mouth situation I think...yes?
Photo: Mosman Daily, Firefighters Calendar 2011

I was just trying to start a conversation that went deeper than “oh look there’s the hose!” with a person that looked as though he had avoided deep conversations successfully since 1995. It went something like:

N: I was a surf lifesaver for a couple of seasons, doing surfboat rowing and I found it really confr…
Hot fireman: Oh yeah, where at?
N: Coogee
Hot fireman: What year?
N: 2002/3 I think…only problem was when I had to treat someone for the first time I completely freaked out
Hot fireman: Did you row in the firsts?
N: No, I came from still water so was still learning in B crew…so I didn’t get my glove on fully and all I could think of was ‘shit I have her blood on me, her blood is on my hand, shiiiiit!’
Hot fireman: was Bec in your crew?
N: Yes she was. So what I’m trying to say is you must be a certain type of person to be a fireman, you know, you have to be so, so, so… Brrrraaaave…

S I L E N C E (that seemed to go on forever)

At this point my brain caught up to my mouth but it was too late, my gushing “Brrraaaave” had exited my mouth and was floating between this stranger and I. I realised I had sounded like a teenage groupie, why did I say ‘brave’? I couldn’t think of the word, which I think should have been selfless, as my mind went blank, probably due to our house and my body being plagued with viruses. All I knew was I had to end my stuttering somehow. And in my defence, they are in fact, brave.

Despite my idiocy and Bang’s intense desire to leave, probably because even at 2 he could see I was going down hill fast, the hot fireman only paused slightly, obviously also a bit shocked at the use of the word and responded graciously: “Well we do a lot of training”.

Phew, awkward moment passed. I managed to salvage some form of self-respect and joked about how my training had only managed to educate me on every disease I could catch from someone’s blood. BUT With Bang yelling “Mama! Mama! I want go home! That way Mama, that way!” I made my escape but not before my “friendliness” earned Bang a Fire Brigade showbag and a sincere invite to come back again soon. Hmmmm “Maybe he likes women telling him he’s brave?...Who cares!” I panicked, “get out of here before your foot gets amputated by your teeth.” Bye Mr brave Fireman.

©MyIdeaLife, 2011, All rights reserved

Read More

Invasion of the Boob-snatchers!

Before you think otherwise, I am a major proponent of breastfeeding – I loved it so much I got all sooky and nostalgic when my youngest decided to wean himself at 7 months. And besides there were some not-so-hidden benefits like we didn’t need to buy our baby a soccer ball, he had two AND he could eat from them – well only just (see below).

Baby gets a new flesh balloon to be swallowed by play with.

I was happy* with my new toys, as was my baby, and my husband, well he was, how would you put it? beside himself. Can you blame him? they were bigger than they’d ever been and useful too. Even my toddler found them amusing - so everyone was euphoric…that was until one day I woke up and they were gone. I am not exaggerating, D one day, trainer bra the next.

Now if I don’t wear a small crane with a hydraulic lift around every day I look like I’ve got two deflated balloons hanging down around my waist. Literally, the same wrinkles left from stretching around full blown mammary glands and the same sad droopy look, lamenting their former lofty glory defying gravity.

My hubby who is lucky if I turn up, let alone with fully inflated boobs and cleanly waxed and polished, sensitively broached the topic one night as I changed for bed, ‘What happened to your playstations? Look at them, they look like two fried eggs only not as firm.’ At this point he was laughing, that sort of schoolboy chortle you're more likely to hear directed at some poor kid in change rooms, when the other boys discover he’s still got no pubes or something. I, of course, abused him for being a dirty perv and quickly covered up, but the next day as I took in my new pre-pubescent silhouette in private I did wonder, 'Where did they go?' and more to the point 'would they ever come back?' (without the help of Dr Plastic Fantastic that is). 

If your DD sized breasts are getting you down and you too
want to look like a pre-pubescent teenager this t-shirt will help

A few google searches later and a couple of corners I wish I hadn’t turned down, eek! I’d found my missing breasts. It seems the process of pregnancy and breastfeeding transforms the breast tissue from mainly fat to mainly mammary glands. It’s not all droop and flop – they do come back in part as gradually some fatty tissue returns and they look a little fuller than their post-weaning un-happy sack state.

Until that day my hubby is making the best of things having recovered from the initial shock. Only yesterday he said my little ones make him feel like he’s dating ‘a teenager’. I embraced this rare compliment, choosing to ignore the implication that I’m now married to a would-be cradle snatcher! Me? I am content that for my boob’s sake I have to eat chocolate and avoid the gym.

*euphemism for bloody ecstatic

© My IdeaLife, 2011, All rights reserved, Two fried eggs t-shirt image remains the property of zazzle.com and cannot be reproduced.

Read More