Thursday, 29 July 2010
The Best Things in Life are Free
There are plenty of things in life that M'laddo wants. Most of these are merchandise based on the latest film, cartoon or book he's reading. A lot of the time we manage to get him sidetracked on to something else and he forgets about whatever it is but usually he comes back to it with a litany of "But me want but me want but me want..." which can go on for hours. The best example of this was probably the Power Ranger costume that drove us to distraction.
But recently ladies and gentlemen we found the ideal thing to keep a three year old entertained. It is the Argos catalogue. It's good for looking at, saying "Me want", cutting, sticking and standing on to reach things on high shelves. I remember when I was little spending hours pouring over the watches, comparing functions and dial sizes and the rather baffling chronograph functions I still don't get nowadays. I don't shop at Argos a great deal and this isn't a sponsored post by any stretch of the imagination but the Argos catalogue is a national treasure..
Wednesday, 28 July 2010
Gallery: Nature
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| No matter how people depress me littering the natural world with junk, the natural world adapts. |
Attention comic/kids magazine publishers
Stop it.
Just stop it.
Please?
When our three year old bullies his Nana into buying him a comic that's okay. I don't mind him reading them and discussing the stories, putting the posters up or doing some sticking, all of that's okay.
BUT WILL YOU STOP PUTTING THE WORLDS CHEAPEST TATTY PLASTIC CRAPPY TOYS ON THE COVER OF YOUR COMIC TO TEMPT HIM TO ASK FOR IT.
You know the ones I mean, you can see them on the front of pretty much every preschool comic every month. Some tacky watch that fires discs or a foam missile gun or a car or something else that is so cheaply made that it falls to irreparable pieces causing tears after a few minutes play. Initially I tried to fix these things but found the fixing materials (sellotape and PVA mostly) were actually more durable than what I was fixing, and they just broke somewhere else almost immediately.
The excitement of thinking he's getting some whizzy new toy, only for it to break moments later is beginning to grate. Take the cheap crap off the covers, sell your magazine or comic on the strength of the content and give us all some well deserved peace.
Just stop it.
Please?
When our three year old bullies his Nana into buying him a comic that's okay. I don't mind him reading them and discussing the stories, putting the posters up or doing some sticking, all of that's okay.
BUT WILL YOU STOP PUTTING THE WORLDS CHEAPEST TATTY PLASTIC CRAPPY TOYS ON THE COVER OF YOUR COMIC TO TEMPT HIM TO ASK FOR IT.
You know the ones I mean, you can see them on the front of pretty much every preschool comic every month. Some tacky watch that fires discs or a foam missile gun or a car or something else that is so cheaply made that it falls to irreparable pieces causing tears after a few minutes play. Initially I tried to fix these things but found the fixing materials (sellotape and PVA mostly) were actually more durable than what I was fixing, and they just broke somewhere else almost immediately.
The excitement of thinking he's getting some whizzy new toy, only for it to break moments later is beginning to grate. Take the cheap crap off the covers, sell your magazine or comic on the strength of the content and give us all some well deserved peace.
Tuesday, 27 July 2010
My life on the internet
The internet and I have a long and often tempestuous relationship.
It started in 1993 when I had to fill in a 3 page paper form and hand it in to a chap with a beard at the computer centre at Lancaster University. A few days later they granted me an email address and the downhill spiral began there.
We had a unix based bulletin board system at uni called Lubbs. Entirely text based, it was in essence a primitive text based forum back in the early days of the world wide web. The internet had been around for decades but the web was different, it was browser based and had graphics and everything. When I got my login credentials, internet explorer wasn't around, it was Moasaic, and it didn't even embed images properly.
Nevertheless it lead to addiction. I was often up to 3 or 4 in the morning exchanging messages with other students who could have been sitting next to me or two computers down. I don't think I particularly fit to the stereotype of a computer nerd though- I liked sunshine and going out and talking to people (girls included), so it wasn't a substitute for real life.
After I graduated and got my first job I forked out for my first PC (a Pentium II since you asked) and then spent a lot of pre-broadband evenings hogging the phone line with my modems paltry 56k connection. I was even able to play multi-player games like Unreal Tournament and Quake over the internet on a connection that was roughly 1/40th of the speed my iPhone accesses the internet over 3G at. I joined the excellent lineone forums (I still have my lineone email account, even though the business was taken over about 4 times) and spent a lot of time cruising those hallowed pages.
Around this time I also developed a long addiction to Championship Manager which went on long after I moved with my now wife. I'll admit there were occasions where I played football management games until 5am, slunk off to bed for a couple of hours and got up feeling groggy. Now its children that rob me of sleep and make me feel groggy.
Other forums took the place of lineone and I got quite into keeping in touch with friends on MSN. Twitter is really a better informal extension of that when the bloody thing actually works.
Now days we take the internet for granted but the fact I've sat there listening to my modem do its best impression of a Spectrum loading Jetpac makes me appreciate it even more and wonder whats round the corner.
I set up my first internet site in 1994. It was hand written in notepad in HTML and I'll admit made too much use of the blink tag. I was young and that was excuse enough for me. CMS (content management systems) weren't really around back then and if something like Wordpress existed back then it would have been treated like witchcraft.
What brought you to the internet then?
It started in 1993 when I had to fill in a 3 page paper form and hand it in to a chap with a beard at the computer centre at Lancaster University. A few days later they granted me an email address and the downhill spiral began there.
We had a unix based bulletin board system at uni called Lubbs. Entirely text based, it was in essence a primitive text based forum back in the early days of the world wide web. The internet had been around for decades but the web was different, it was browser based and had graphics and everything. When I got my login credentials, internet explorer wasn't around, it was Moasaic, and it didn't even embed images properly.
Nevertheless it lead to addiction. I was often up to 3 or 4 in the morning exchanging messages with other students who could have been sitting next to me or two computers down. I don't think I particularly fit to the stereotype of a computer nerd though- I liked sunshine and going out and talking to people (girls included), so it wasn't a substitute for real life.
After I graduated and got my first job I forked out for my first PC (a Pentium II since you asked) and then spent a lot of pre-broadband evenings hogging the phone line with my modems paltry 56k connection. I was even able to play multi-player games like Unreal Tournament and Quake over the internet on a connection that was roughly 1/40th of the speed my iPhone accesses the internet over 3G at. I joined the excellent lineone forums (I still have my lineone email account, even though the business was taken over about 4 times) and spent a lot of time cruising those hallowed pages.
Around this time I also developed a long addiction to Championship Manager which went on long after I moved with my now wife. I'll admit there were occasions where I played football management games until 5am, slunk off to bed for a couple of hours and got up feeling groggy. Now its children that rob me of sleep and make me feel groggy.
Other forums took the place of lineone and I got quite into keeping in touch with friends on MSN. Twitter is really a better informal extension of that when the bloody thing actually works.
Now days we take the internet for granted but the fact I've sat there listening to my modem do its best impression of a Spectrum loading Jetpac makes me appreciate it even more and wonder whats round the corner.
I set up my first internet site in 1994. It was hand written in notepad in HTML and I'll admit made too much use of the blink tag. I was young and that was excuse enough for me. CMS (content management systems) weren't really around back then and if something like Wordpress existed back then it would have been treated like witchcraft.
What brought you to the internet then?
Monday, 26 July 2010
Me, myself and I
The boy is now comfortably over 3 years old. He has an ever increasing vocab that's grown by the phrase "Big-boy Star Wars" this weekend and is now capable of rational argument.
What makes him seem a bit younger than he actually is is the use of the word "me". He'll still say, "me want to do that.", "but me want to!", "me no want you to wash my hair" and so on. The sentiment is there but we've let him get away with it for far too long so this weekend just gone we started breaking the habit.
The carrot on Saturday morning whilst Wifey was at work was a viewing of the rather lovely Astroboy film (which is one of his current favourites). "Me want to watch Astroboy" was however met with, "No, you have to say 'I want to watch Astroboy.' Try again in a couple of minutes and if you get it right first time, we can watch it."
I'm under no illusion this will be a hard habit to break as he's been doing it for over a year but eventually after about 20 minutes we did get the correct sentence first off with no prompting so Astroboy went on.
When it came to the request for a lollipop, he'd slipped back to the old habit and we started the process again. I was met with a world weary sigh as he said, "But me want to say 'I'". So there is progress of sorts.
What makes him seem a bit younger than he actually is is the use of the word "me". He'll still say, "me want to do that.", "but me want to!", "me no want you to wash my hair" and so on. The sentiment is there but we've let him get away with it for far too long so this weekend just gone we started breaking the habit.
The carrot on Saturday morning whilst Wifey was at work was a viewing of the rather lovely Astroboy film (which is one of his current favourites). "Me want to watch Astroboy" was however met with, "No, you have to say 'I want to watch Astroboy.' Try again in a couple of minutes and if you get it right first time, we can watch it."
I'm under no illusion this will be a hard habit to break as he's been doing it for over a year but eventually after about 20 minutes we did get the correct sentence first off with no prompting so Astroboy went on.
When it came to the request for a lollipop, he'd slipped back to the old habit and we started the process again. I was met with a world weary sigh as he said, "But me want to say 'I'". So there is progress of sorts.
Thursday, 22 July 2010
Bath time
I'm currently reading Dracula for our book group and there was one particular phrase that really leapt off the page at me:
Chasing an errant swam of bees is nothing to following a naked lunaticSubstitute boy for lunatic and you have the nightly chase round the house prior to a dousing in the bath. The chase is two fold really, first off the initial capture leads to a disrobing, secondly there is the naked charge. This is usually done with a slight worry on my part about how clean his bottom is as he squats on my pillow cackling like, well, a lunatic.
Tuesday, 20 July 2010
Trapped in London
Well not really trapped, just delayed for another meeting. It might be a struggle to get home before the kids bedtime and I really hate missing it. Funny how bathing the two of them stopped being a chore and became fun at some point.
M'laddo likes sharing his bath with the wee lass, mostly because it reduces his perceived chances of having his hair washed but partly because they play really nicely at times. The wee lass is slightly in awe of the boy and does try to copy him, which when it comes to the bath wee is certainly interesting.
Having said all that, I've often come home to find m'laddo curled up in our bed, waiting to say goodnight to me.
M'laddo likes sharing his bath with the wee lass, mostly because it reduces his perceived chances of having his hair washed but partly because they play really nicely at times. The wee lass is slightly in awe of the boy and does try to copy him, which when it comes to the bath wee is certainly interesting.
Having said all that, I've often come home to find m'laddo curled up in our bed, waiting to say goodnight to me.
Monday, 19 July 2010
Sometimes nothing else will do
When too much awake time comes along hand in hand with too little sleep time, hollering children and unrealistic demands from work, I turn to the guiltiest of shameful pleasures to perk me up.
It's so shameful and embarrassing I'd almost rather admit to onanism. I put my iPod on and crank up a bit of Meat Loaf to 11. I have generally good tastes in music, ranging from the Walker Brothers, to Captain Beefheart, the Beach Boys and the Who, through to the Zutons and other modern popular beat combos but nothing is as good for letting a head of steam off like a bit of 'Loaf.
Nononononono, I take it back, I just crack one off, honest.
It's so shameful and embarrassing I'd almost rather admit to onanism. I put my iPod on and crank up a bit of Meat Loaf to 11. I have generally good tastes in music, ranging from the Walker Brothers, to Captain Beefheart, the Beach Boys and the Who, through to the Zutons and other modern popular beat combos but nothing is as good for letting a head of steam off like a bit of 'Loaf.
Nononononono, I take it back, I just crack one off, honest.
Sunday, 18 July 2010
Putting my foot down
Children sense weakness with some sort of sixth sense. Wifey was feeling under the weather this morning after having had just about zero sleep. I had to go to work because of a reason I'd rather not go into (suffice to say it wasn't my fault) and they knew. They just damn well knew.
I was at my desk at work for 6.15am this morning and got home around twenty past twelve. I fear wifey had been assaulted by sofa, sticklebrick and other household items. In short both the small demoniacs had decided to play up.
As I entered the house lunch was being served. The wee lass let her desire for food overcome her desire to play up. M'laddo on the other hand was in full swing. Wanting a wee, not wanting a wee, getting up and down from the table half a dozen times, saying he wanted his dinner, saying he didn't want it. All in all being a right little sod.
Wifey relieved him of his meal and I relieved him of his freedom. I tucked him under my arm and in true Harry & the Dinosaurs fashion, took him upstairs to settle down. Unlike the books he didn't settle down and tried to follow me back downstairs. And I shocked him by putting my foot down. I picked him up under the arms, held him at arms length and told him he would stay there all day if necessary. He actually did a comedy style double take and sat quietly on his bed.
1-0 to me this time then.
I'm waiting for the payback.
I was at my desk at work for 6.15am this morning and got home around twenty past twelve. I fear wifey had been assaulted by sofa, sticklebrick and other household items. In short both the small demoniacs had decided to play up.
As I entered the house lunch was being served. The wee lass let her desire for food overcome her desire to play up. M'laddo on the other hand was in full swing. Wanting a wee, not wanting a wee, getting up and down from the table half a dozen times, saying he wanted his dinner, saying he didn't want it. All in all being a right little sod.
Wifey relieved him of his meal and I relieved him of his freedom. I tucked him under my arm and in true Harry & the Dinosaurs fashion, took him upstairs to settle down. Unlike the books he didn't settle down and tried to follow me back downstairs. And I shocked him by putting my foot down. I picked him up under the arms, held him at arms length and told him he would stay there all day if necessary. He actually did a comedy style double take and sat quietly on his bed.
1-0 to me this time then.
I'm waiting for the payback.
Saturday, 17 July 2010
Circular Arguments
If there's one thing I remember from my childhood its the hot flush of resentment of being told the reason I couldn't do something was simply "because I said so." I'm determined to try and be fairer with our two, and at least give them a chance to give me a valid reason why a particularly daft course of action seems appropriate to them.
First blood has gone to M'laddo on this one I'm afraid. Normally his arguments go a little something like this on being told he's had too much TV and can't watch any more:
First blood has gone to M'laddo on this one I'm afraid. Normally his arguments go a little something like this on being told he's had too much TV and can't watch any more:
Me: No more telly I'm afraid.
Boy: But we want to.
Me: Give me a good reason why and you can watch more
Boy: But me want to.
Me: That's not a good reason
Boy: But me want to.
Me: Why?
Boy: But me want to.
Me: Why?
Boy: But me want to.
Me: Why?
Boy: But me want to.
Me: Why?
Boy: But me want to.
Me: Why?
And so on until one of us loses the will to live.
Recently he's had issues over me going to work and I've patiently explained that we would have to live in a cardboard box in a field if I didn't go to work. Unfortunately since the weathers been nice, this hasn't held the fear it once did, so I've had to up the game as I mentioned a week or so ago. I took the drastic step of saying that if I didn't go to work we would have to live in a cardboard box in a field and we wouldn't be able to afford a cardboard box big enough for bunny. He looked at me with a mixture of love and pity in his eyes and said, "It all right Dadda, me get bunbun nother box from supemarket."
All he needs to do is apply this level of reasoning to his endless "but me want to" rationales and I'm going to to be up a certain creek without a paddle.
Friday, 16 July 2010
Someone paint a red cross on the door
Plague house!
With M'laddo's spots just about fading but the Wee Lass's still violent and red, I am the latest victim of illness in our abode.
I am currently:
With M'laddo's spots just about fading but the Wee Lass's still violent and red, I am the latest victim of illness in our abode.
I am currently:
- running a temperature
- nauseous
- feeling weak and lethargic
- suffering from a runny bottom
But joy of joys I'm in work to spread it around as there are several things I have to do and thats the way our office rolls, struggling on is seen as a virtue, being off sick is a sign of weakness, no matter who you infect.
So since Wifey has had no sleep again, and appears to have the same symptoms as me, I can only wish her good luck for today as I reckon she'll need it. Fifi looks to be particularly demanding...
Thursday, 15 July 2010
Hovering on a brown cloud
The wee lass woke up just as we were preparing for bed last night feeling the full effects of her chicken pox. It took a fair while with medicine, milk and cream to get her feeling looked after enough to come to bed with us for 20 or so minutes until she felt happy going back to her cot.
She then pretty much slept through until 6am (at least I think she did, wifey might have a different tale to tell), which was of course the call for M'laddo to step up to the plate. After a bit of shouting (him, not me), I spent an hour or so in with him as he tossed and turned restlessly. Once he'd dropped off, I went back to bed. Wifey then was summoned a little while later and spent a considerable amount of time having any scrap of duvet taken from her with impunity.
Suffice to say he ended up in bed with us a while later, although when I went to get him, I did find him night time nappy-less which was a bit of a shock. He went back to his restless tossing and turning in our bed so I decamped to his since I'm rather busy at work at the moment. Lucky for me that I did as it turned out the problem was mostly huge amounts of trapped wind and he spent the rest of the night farting like a trooper, hovering on a cloud of brown 2ft above the bed.
He did look peaceful when I snuck in to get some socks at 6 in the morning though.
She then pretty much slept through until 6am (at least I think she did, wifey might have a different tale to tell), which was of course the call for M'laddo to step up to the plate. After a bit of shouting (him, not me), I spent an hour or so in with him as he tossed and turned restlessly. Once he'd dropped off, I went back to bed. Wifey then was summoned a little while later and spent a considerable amount of time having any scrap of duvet taken from her with impunity.
Suffice to say he ended up in bed with us a while later, although when I went to get him, I did find him night time nappy-less which was a bit of a shock. He went back to his restless tossing and turning in our bed so I decamped to his since I'm rather busy at work at the moment. Lucky for me that I did as it turned out the problem was mostly huge amounts of trapped wind and he spent the rest of the night farting like a trooper, hovering on a cloud of brown 2ft above the bed.
He did look peaceful when I snuck in to get some socks at 6 in the morning though.
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
The difference between boys and girls
Hair washing
The Boy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
Fifi: hehehehehe! Wet!
Hair Brushing
The Boy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
Fifi- brings me the hairbrush and insists on sitting on my lap until I've fulfilled her hair brushing requirements.
Application of suntan lotion
The Boy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
Fifi- brings me the bottle of suntan lotion and pats all the areas she wants suntan lotion applied. Particularly fussy about her feet.
Nail cutting
The Boy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
Fifi- wiggles her toes and points as they are cut.
By this point I'm sure you've spotted a general trend. Fifi loves being pampered and looked after whilst The Boy loathes any sort of interference with his general cultivation of grime. It's as if he goes to great lengths to generate that special little boy smell and anybody that interferes with it is in trouble.
The Boy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
Fifi: hehehehehe! Wet!
Hair Brushing
The Boy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
Fifi- brings me the hairbrush and insists on sitting on my lap until I've fulfilled her hair brushing requirements.
Application of suntan lotion
The Boy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
Fifi- brings me the bottle of suntan lotion and pats all the areas she wants suntan lotion applied. Particularly fussy about her feet.
Nail cutting
The Boy: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
Fifi- wiggles her toes and points as they are cut.
By this point I'm sure you've spotted a general trend. Fifi loves being pampered and looked after whilst The Boy loathes any sort of interference with his general cultivation of grime. It's as if he goes to great lengths to generate that special little boy smell and anybody that interferes with it is in trouble.
Tuesday, 13 July 2010
Gadding around like Mr Lah-De-Dah
Since we've effectively been under house arrest for the last two weeks thanks to the pox, Wifey and I have taken every opportunity to escape from incarceration that has presented itself. This is obviously easier for me as I have to go to work but there are other outside work things too that have allowed me to ponce around free from the shackles of small ill children.
Take last Tuesday for example, I dashed home from work, dunked our children in the bath, wolfed my dinner down and headed off to book group. I managed to sit in the corner of The Goat for a good twenty minutes before I realised I was early. A whole week early. Despite my protestations, wifey remains unconvinced this was an accident and as it's Tuesday today and actual book group day, I had better have got the day right this time.
On Friday night I escaped to my brothers to help him wallpaper. I set off at 7.45pm and arrived home after a shower preceded by some wallpapering at just gone 2am. I escaped but was reunited with the boy about ten minutes after returning home as he wanted his dad.
Even this morning I escaped the early shift with Fifi by dint of having to eat bacon, sausages, black pudding and fried mushrooms at a chamber of commerce breakfast.
So I've been gadding about and must take this opportunity to say well done to wifey who still has at the very least the appearance of sanity about her despite the quarantine. Well done you!
Take last Tuesday for example, I dashed home from work, dunked our children in the bath, wolfed my dinner down and headed off to book group. I managed to sit in the corner of The Goat for a good twenty minutes before I realised I was early. A whole week early. Despite my protestations, wifey remains unconvinced this was an accident and as it's Tuesday today and actual book group day, I had better have got the day right this time.
On Friday night I escaped to my brothers to help him wallpaper. I set off at 7.45pm and arrived home after a shower preceded by some wallpapering at just gone 2am. I escaped but was reunited with the boy about ten minutes after returning home as he wanted his dad.
Even this morning I escaped the early shift with Fifi by dint of having to eat bacon, sausages, black pudding and fried mushrooms at a chamber of commerce breakfast.
So I've been gadding about and must take this opportunity to say well done to wifey who still has at the very least the appearance of sanity about her despite the quarantine. Well done you!
Monday, 12 July 2010
Chicken Pox- what they don't tell you
Our eldest is now more or less over his chicken pox and it's now baby Fifi's turn to have it. We knew last night that today would be the day the spots came out because M'laddo tipped us off two weeks ago.
You see, all the guides to the pox state what the spots look like and where they're most likely to occur first. None of the ones I've read state that the night before will be a night of mania and over excitement. We were on holiday when the boy came down with chicken pox and the night before he was up until around 11pm, bouncing around like nobodies business, full of the sort of crazy energy that normally takes his body weight in Fruit Shoots. Next day, wallopp- head to foot in spots.
Last night Fifi was pretty much the same, despite being half his age. She was rampaging through our bedroom, emptying her sippy cup over my pillow and generally refusing to go to bed until almost 11pm. No amount of Calpol or Piriton administered in legal doses had any effect on her, and everything was absolutely hilarious.
So there you have it, if you suspect your child of harbouring the pox, wait for the night of mania and book the next few days off of work accordingly.
You have been warned!
You see, all the guides to the pox state what the spots look like and where they're most likely to occur first. None of the ones I've read state that the night before will be a night of mania and over excitement. We were on holiday when the boy came down with chicken pox and the night before he was up until around 11pm, bouncing around like nobodies business, full of the sort of crazy energy that normally takes his body weight in Fruit Shoots. Next day, wallopp- head to foot in spots.
Last night Fifi was pretty much the same, despite being half his age. She was rampaging through our bedroom, emptying her sippy cup over my pillow and generally refusing to go to bed until almost 11pm. No amount of Calpol or Piriton administered in legal doses had any effect on her, and everything was absolutely hilarious.
So there you have it, if you suspect your child of harbouring the pox, wait for the night of mania and book the next few days off of work accordingly.
You have been warned!
Sunday, 11 July 2010
Sunday Evening Nostalgia
Well, it's getting on for half a lifetime since I finished school and the notion of homework went away but here I am on a Sunday night, this time at my desk at work, finishing off something for tomorrow.
In my defence, I have had a fairly busy weekend all told. M'laddo hasn't been sleeping well, which was a bit of a downer when I got back from helping my brother wallpaper on Friday night/Saturday morning at 2am and had to spend an hour and a half getting him back to sleep. Last night I apparently went and brought him into our bed at some point too (I don't actually remember doing this) and in between I've painted trellis, watertreated walls, reconditioned a bird house, treated a rotting window sill and done half a dozen other things. So, even though this is my comfortable I have to do some work time, it's turned out its the only real free time I had anyway.
Heres to another week folks, lets hope its a productive one!
Friday, 9 July 2010
The technicolour yawn
Yesterday was a fairly busy day. I didn't get up at half 5 with Fifi (at least I think I didn't, it might have been Wednesday, I've officially lost track now) and it ended rather late too.
You see a while back when we were in an official panic to get someone before we left the house, I reversed off the drive with two children hollering in the back, and Wifey trying to talk to me and managed to break our near side wing mirror. All that I managed to break was a small metal pin, about half the length of a Bic biro. Everything else, all the electrics, the glass, the casing, etc were all fine. But such is the way Vauxhall and all car makers design these things, the whole unit needed replacing. And our friendly local Vauxhall dealership wanted £180 to source the wing mirror and fit it. This is something I baulked at doing as its a lot of money and, until it got really hot, something black tape was a much cheaper remedy for. Unfortunately in the heat the adhesive on the tape isn't as good and it was becoming a bit impractical to say the least.
So I bit the bullet and went onto ebay and bought a brand spanking new assembly for £43. That's what I spent last night fitting, saving us almost £140. Which was nice.
But such is the way of the world, a late night and a substantial saving are usually followed by some sort of universe paying you back karma type thing. It was just gone 11pm (a time by which I am usually asleep I might add) and my bath was just run. Pants were off, leg was lifted for some hot bath action, when the all too familar cry of "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!!!" went up. Wifey, bless her cotton socks (which were in the washbin by that late hour) said she'd go and see the fella so I could have my soak in peace but it was not to be.
Exorcist sick isn't a phrase I use everyday but I feel it was appropriate here. It wasn't as bad as the winter vomiting M'laddo had the other year, I spent half the night picking chunks of vomit out of my buttock crevice that time, but it wasn't pleasant. I took the poor wee lad into the bath with me once he'd finished puking and Wifey, to her eternal credit given how much she hates puke (almost as much as I hate poo), scraped out the half digested pasta and put the washing machine on.
Part of being a mummy appears to be sleeping in the recently vomit sodden bed of your eldest child, while your eldest child sleeps on your side of the bed with his dad, giving you the worry that there will be part 2 on a bed that doesn't have a waterproof mattress protector.
Fortunately though there wasn't and after a brief discussion over why people always seem to puke first at night, the wee fella and I both went to sleep.
You see a while back when we were in an official panic to get someone before we left the house, I reversed off the drive with two children hollering in the back, and Wifey trying to talk to me and managed to break our near side wing mirror. All that I managed to break was a small metal pin, about half the length of a Bic biro. Everything else, all the electrics, the glass, the casing, etc were all fine. But such is the way Vauxhall and all car makers design these things, the whole unit needed replacing. And our friendly local Vauxhall dealership wanted £180 to source the wing mirror and fit it. This is something I baulked at doing as its a lot of money and, until it got really hot, something black tape was a much cheaper remedy for. Unfortunately in the heat the adhesive on the tape isn't as good and it was becoming a bit impractical to say the least.
So I bit the bullet and went onto ebay and bought a brand spanking new assembly for £43. That's what I spent last night fitting, saving us almost £140. Which was nice.
But such is the way of the world, a late night and a substantial saving are usually followed by some sort of universe paying you back karma type thing. It was just gone 11pm (a time by which I am usually asleep I might add) and my bath was just run. Pants were off, leg was lifted for some hot bath action, when the all too familar cry of "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!!!" went up. Wifey, bless her cotton socks (which were in the washbin by that late hour) said she'd go and see the fella so I could have my soak in peace but it was not to be.
Exorcist sick isn't a phrase I use everyday but I feel it was appropriate here. It wasn't as bad as the winter vomiting M'laddo had the other year, I spent half the night picking chunks of vomit out of my buttock crevice that time, but it wasn't pleasant. I took the poor wee lad into the bath with me once he'd finished puking and Wifey, to her eternal credit given how much she hates puke (almost as much as I hate poo), scraped out the half digested pasta and put the washing machine on.
Part of being a mummy appears to be sleeping in the recently vomit sodden bed of your eldest child, while your eldest child sleeps on your side of the bed with his dad, giving you the worry that there will be part 2 on a bed that doesn't have a waterproof mattress protector.
Fortunately though there wasn't and after a brief discussion over why people always seem to puke first at night, the wee fella and I both went to sleep.
Thursday, 8 July 2010
I need a new plan
We've always followed the mantra of avoiding needless confrontation with M'laddo. It's all too easy to make a flashpoint out of something minor and end up having a major battle of wills over something like which pair of socks to wear (hint: they have to have spider-man on them). Instead we tend to employ the dark arts of distraction and vague promises that he'll forget about in ten minutes.
After yesterday morning, I have the unsettling feeling we wont be able to do this for very much longer. I think he's on to us.
We were having the usual Wednesday morning hoo-ha, the little man was up and happy as I helped him get dressed. Then he noticed I was in my work clothes and begun gently sobbing. The horror of a full day at home with Mummy struck home and it struck home hard. Rather than telling him to cheer up, I opted for the other approach. I carefully told him Daddy needed to go to work so we could afford our house. Otherwise we'd have to live in a cardboard box in the middle of the street. I could see this wasn't having the desired effect so I ad libbed and told him there wouldn't be room for bun-bun the bunny in our cardboard box because it would be quite small. He just looked at me and said, "Silly Daddy, me get bun-bun his own box."
Thwarted. I need to up my game.
After yesterday morning, I have the unsettling feeling we wont be able to do this for very much longer. I think he's on to us.
We were having the usual Wednesday morning hoo-ha, the little man was up and happy as I helped him get dressed. Then he noticed I was in my work clothes and begun gently sobbing. The horror of a full day at home with Mummy struck home and it struck home hard. Rather than telling him to cheer up, I opted for the other approach. I carefully told him Daddy needed to go to work so we could afford our house. Otherwise we'd have to live in a cardboard box in the middle of the street. I could see this wasn't having the desired effect so I ad libbed and told him there wouldn't be room for bun-bun the bunny in our cardboard box because it would be quite small. He just looked at me and said, "Silly Daddy, me get bun-bun his own box."
Thwarted. I need to up my game.
Wednesday, 7 July 2010
The sanitisation of children's classics
The bowdlerisation of some of the things I hold dear from my own youth is something that constantly irritates me. Some of the time it is necessary, I certainly wouldn't want to watch Noddy if it was full of gollywogs nowadays and I certainly wouldn't want my kids to either. Most of the time however it is baffling and unnecessary when books and programmes are sanitised to the point they are dull and uninteresting.
Times change and society does too, Dennis the Menace is much more likely to get his pocket money stopped today than he is to get slippered by his dad for whatever naughtiness he has been up to. What baffles me though are the changes for the sake of change.
Take the case of Raggety from Rupert Bear. I have the original annual with his first appearance at home and he looked like this:
Times change and society does too, Dennis the Menace is much more likely to get his pocket money stopped today than he is to get slippered by his dad for whatever naughtiness he has been up to. What baffles me though are the changes for the sake of change.
Take the case of Raggety from Rupert Bear. I have the original annual with his first appearance at home and he looked like this:
He was a nasty prickly character that made a terrible mess in Rupert's home. Rupert's world back then was allowed to have things that were unpleasant, even a bit scary in them. Contrast that with what Raggety looks like in the latest iteration of Rupert and you'll see no discernable similarity:
He's now a fluffy little tree elf who loves using his tree magic to help everyone. For goodness sake. Can our children not cope with a character who isn't fluffy and lovely? What do they do when they come across a kid at pre-school who isn't fluffy and lovely? At least in the original Rupert they could take Rupert's example of how to behave when someone is nasty to use but now...
It does get worse though. There are decades between the two different versions of Raggety. Noddy is even doing the same thing with a gap of years. There are two naughty goblins in Noddy, just have a look how they have changed in a really short space of time:
Why? Getting rid of the golliwogs made sense, they're culturally unacceptable now (and rightly so) but this is incomprehensible. I'm clutching at straws but maybe someone somewhere has decided its a bad thing to frighten kids, even a little bit. Maybe they're right but in my mind its not helping prepare the little ones for the real world and, dare I whisper it, kids actually like being scared a bit.
I run around threatening to blow raspberries on both our pre-schoolers tummies and they shriek in delight at the prospect of it. It's a little scary as it tickles but they know they're safe. And if you're a responsible parent that watches TV or reads a book with your children, they'll have that same sense of security when they see unsanitised material like the original Raggety or the old Sly and Gobbo- heck, I'm not even pushing for the original Noddy, as he could be a right piece of work at times.
In a time when film trailers warn us that it might contain scenes of "mild peril", don't you think we should let our kids experience just a little bit of it? Or does that make me a terrible dad?
It does get worse though. There are decades between the two different versions of Raggety. Noddy is even doing the same thing with a gap of years. There are two naughty goblins in Noddy, just have a look how they have changed in a really short space of time:
Why? Getting rid of the golliwogs made sense, they're culturally unacceptable now (and rightly so) but this is incomprehensible. I'm clutching at straws but maybe someone somewhere has decided its a bad thing to frighten kids, even a little bit. Maybe they're right but in my mind its not helping prepare the little ones for the real world and, dare I whisper it, kids actually like being scared a bit.
I run around threatening to blow raspberries on both our pre-schoolers tummies and they shriek in delight at the prospect of it. It's a little scary as it tickles but they know they're safe. And if you're a responsible parent that watches TV or reads a book with your children, they'll have that same sense of security when they see unsanitised material like the original Raggety or the old Sly and Gobbo- heck, I'm not even pushing for the original Noddy, as he could be a right piece of work at times.
In a time when film trailers warn us that it might contain scenes of "mild peril", don't you think we should let our kids experience just a little bit of it? Or does that make me a terrible dad?
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
Tired Children
The boy on the other hand has no such scruples. I've read or imagined that little children lack the capacity to know when they're tired and that's certain true for M'laddo. As he gets more and more tired, the proclamations of not being tired get louder, the hysterical laughter gets louder and more frequent and the acts of random violence get worse.
The night before last was a case in point. I had Fifi in the bath and M'laddo cantered up on a hobby horse and told me he needed a poo poo. Now that he's toilet trained, this is a bit more important than it used to be. In the normal course of events he comes to the toilet after saying this but that night he galloped off into the distance on his horse, laughing all the while.
I finally managed to get him onto the loo, after wrestling his trousers and pants off, legs kicking madly all the time, and as soon as I did the worlds biggest bowel movement for an under 4 occurred. Sadly this record only lasted about a minute as his little sister decided to emulate it in the bath.
But I digress, tiredness eh? It's expressed in entirely different ways and thats fascinating. All in all though, I think I prefer the grumpy crotchety approach our little girl has. It's more understandable and easier to deal with, even if it does sometimes require the speedy evacuation of the bath.
Monday, 5 July 2010
Something in my eye
I've fallen in love with Fifi all over again thanks to the 5.30am starts. The great weather has afforded me the opportunity to pop her in the pushchair and go out for a walk. At 17 months she's smart, intelligent and
And M'laddo is still the best little boy in the world. The two days we were up in Norfolk we awesome- we were on the beach throwing stones in the sea, digging holes and sitting in them, splashing around in the sea, eating ice creams, ramming 2p's into the two pee machines and so on and so forth. Even when we got back home, even when he was poorly and demanding to watch Toy Story constantly, he was still great. The only time he got upset was when he saw himself in the mirror and didn't like seeing the spots.
Seeing the two of them from 5am/7.30am respectively all the way through to 7pm for a whole nine days was exhausting but also fantastic. I don't know if I could do it every day and I have nothing but complete and utter respect for Wifey for managing it better than I could.
So as today is my first day back to work, when I was getting the boy up this morning and he was smiling at me, I had one of those moments. I suddenly realised how precious every moment with them is. I'm sure I'll get him up in the morning a 1,000 times more but it will never be exactly the same as it was today. The moment is fleeting and passes and is therefore precious. And yes, I did get something in my eye, dappy old sentimental sod that I am.
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