Manners please

Henry is so polite. He always says "thank you" when you hand him something and always says "sorry" when he accidentally on purpose runs into our feet with his mower. He always says "pardy" when he burps from both ends. What more could I ask for!

Our household has been sick yet again. Henry is recovering from an ear infection and tonsillitis (no day care this week either) and the rest of us have had head colds.

Ganguro - Warning. I am not insane!

I read an article recently in a free health magazine that gets delivered to me in the post about a Japanese fashion craze called Ganguro. The word means "black face" in Japanese. Apparently the idea is to create a "California" look. They want to look young and healthy. They do this by going to deep tanning salons, bleaching their hair blonde and wearing blue contact lenses. The photo of the young Japanese woman that accompanied the article reminded me of a two dollar Barbie, the type that comes in a cheap show bag from the Ekka or from one of those two dollar stores. You know the type that has hollow unbending legs and arms, thinning hair and a face that looks like the mould had some strange air bubbles in it when they poured the plastic in. This article and the accompanying photo reminded me of the time my brother and I sent some two dollar Barbies on a murderous rampage. I was young (around 21) and my brother was young too (only about 17). We didn't know any better. This was in the late eighties, early nineties, and a real life serial killer was on the loose. He had been dubbed the Loganholme Killer. He preyed on young women in the Loganholme area and murdered them after having his way with them. Or something like that anyway. Well, my brother was going to the Ekka and asked me did I want him to bring me home anything. I told him I'd love a Barbie bag but I only had $3 so I gave it to him and told him to get what he could with that. He came home with a $2 Barbie bag that was packed with all kinds of goodies. Two Barbies, a spare set of clothes and an assortment of extra wigs so they could change their appearance with just a flick of hair.

As we pulled the Barbies from the plastic bag and the two of us "eeed" and "awwed" and redressed them as you often do when you're all grown up but still fascinated by Barbie. We somehow got around to talking about Barbie's relationship with Ken. I'm not sure how the rest of it started but in an afternoon we turned two dollar caucasian Barbie into a lesbian bikie who was actually married to Ken but was having an affair with Katie Black Doll. Katie Black Doll, in a jealous fit of rage over Barbie's decision to stay with Ken instead of running off into the sunset with her, stabbed poor Barbie to death with a dress pin and then hung herself. Ken, naturally distraught over the death of his wife became an desperate alcoholic. He couldn't face life without her. He blamed all Barbies for the fact that he had lost his one true love. The only thing he could do to avenge her death was to murder all Barbies who in any way resembled Katie Black Doll. He went on a murderous rampage. He chopped all the Barbies he could find into small pieces, covered them in tomato sauce and stored them in chinese take away food containers in the freezer.

They stayed there undetected for years. Ken, the Loganholme killer may never have been caught if it hadn't been for our father who came across the mutilated Barbies in the freezer.

I realise this all sounds crazy and stupid and it was but it provided us with hours, even days of entertainment. My sister eventually got in on it and she was responsible for changing Ken's appearance so he would never be found by the authorities. She gave him a beard and some tough tattoos with a permanent marker pen.

We were young. We were stupid. We were funny.....we thought so at least.

I even have photos!
Katie Black Doll stabbing Two Dollar Barbie as he lay sleeping with Ken

Ken surveying the damage, shaking his head in horror as Katie Black Doll walks away

Katie Black Doll dead. She killed herself. Beside her is the autopsy notes.


PS Grandma Mary and Grandpa Richard should forgive me for being so silly. I'm WAY grown up now and would never commit Barbie murder again. Maya laughed for hours after I told her about this so I guess it can't be that bad.

Planned Parenting......

Today I graduated from over protective mother to give-a-little mother. I allowed Maya to go to the city with her friend without adult supervision. Apparently I am way out of touch with what other mothers allow their children to do and I should be getting a little more hip and with it. I do allow her certain freedoms and I trust her implicitly, she's usually very sensible. This little outing didn't happen without hours of discussion and deliberation. I lectured her until she was bored stiff and sent her off with the usual last words. "Be home in two hours or I call the police even if you're one minute late". I worried just a little but her friend is a sensible girl too so I didn't think there was much the two of them would get up to. Besides I have managed to plant the fear of God into Maya about what kinds of things other people are capable of. She probably believes all other humans are evil-doers. Maya rang me three times while she was gone to let me know all her movements etc. I am so proud of her. I feel like I've grown up just a little bit.

Lellow

This is one of Henry's new favourite pastimes. It doesn't quite make it into the same realm as cars and trucks but it's up there. He likes to draw. He calls it "Draw Picture With Lellow", his version of the word yellow. Every colour is lellow.

Think what you like but this is dead cute!

I never cease to amaze myself

Henry now has a huge collection of matchbox cars and trucks. He plays with these almost all the time. That is when he's not reading books about cars and trucks and looking at images of cars and trucks on the computer. Aside from some cheap plastic roads that join together and never stay that way when you run a car over them he had nothing to drive them on. I came up with the brilliant idea of painting some roads onto a sheet of plywood we had sitting in the garage. Here is the result. I can only take credit for the idea,Maya did all the artwork and a fantastic job she did too. Henry loves it.

PEBCAC - Nerd acronym - "problem exists between computer and chair"

The techno loser in me finally found the patience to try to work out why I couldn't get the photos from the camera to the computer. This took me all of about two seconds. I plugged the cable into the camera, swore a bit, jiggled it and then it struck me to follow the cable to the back of the computer to see whether or not it may be loose or something. Guess what I discovered? It's not even connected! Someone in our home, probably the person who never lets anyone but himself touch anything related to plugging in and pulling out, has disconnected it to connect something else. Since I'm not game to touch anything without permission I've left it so you'll have to wait a little longer for the photos. Sorry.

I am pleased to report, without photos, that Henry's bum is on the mend. It's still a little red but he doesn't flinch in pain at the mere thought of us putting our fingers smothered with paw paw ointment anywhere near it. He has been walking around saying "aww sore bum" but I think that's just because he can.

How long will he last???

I'm trying hard to convince myself that daycare is a good thing. Henry is supposed to go two days a week but since he started he's only managed one week where he's made it both days each week. Henry was never sick before daycare but from day one he's had a constantly runny nose, caught a stomach bug and had the odd unexplainable fever. All that is to be expected. Those places are a breeding ground for all kinds of things. I'm also aware that his immune system will eventually catch up and his illnesses won't be so frequent. What I find hard to accept is what that place expects of their staff members. I believe that their sole responsibility should be to the children in their care but they are forced to fill other roles which fall out of the scope of childcare. Several mornings I have dropped Henry off only to find a playground full of unsupervised toddlers because the carers are busy with the leaf blower cleaning an adjoining play area or mopping the floors or filling in endless amounts of paperwork or even cleaning toilets. They inform me that these jobs are their responsibility. They form part of their job description. When I asked were they understaffed the reply was no. Before 8am there are only two assigned carers despite the fact that a majority of toddlers are dropped off before this time so their parents can make it to work on time. Both carers are sometimes nowhere to be seen when I arrive. I can't leave there until I know someone is around and sometimes I've waited up to ten minutes with these kids until a carer shows pulling off rubber gloves after scrubbing the toilets or something. All the carers are wonderful people but I'm not sure if I like the fact that they so readily accept that part of their job is to keep the place clean when the children should be their top priority. I asked them once why the centre didn't hire an after hours cleaner so they could do the job they're paid to do and they said that it would cost too much. I know that child care workers get paid a pittance which seems ridiculous given the amount of money parents fork out each day to keep their children there and trust they are being cared for.

Henry came home from daycare yesterday with a bottom that was so red raw it was almost blistered. He was screaming in pain and wouldn't let us touch him to take care of it. Henry has NEVER had even the slightest hint of nappy rash or burning so I was surprised. All I could surmise was that he had been left in a dirty nappy for some time before he was changed. I know the group leader of his daycare group recently left to take up another position in another town and they are in the process of trying to replace her which leaves the burden of caring for eight small toddlers to the other wonderful group assistant and a part timer who has been brought in to help her. I know there is no way I could take care of eight toddlers on my own and do a good job or as good as I wanted anyway so I can't blame her for his red bum but I can blame the system for not doing enough to ensure that a child doesn't have to sit in dirty pants for hours on end.

The centre Henry attends is part of a huge multi-site, multi-country childcare conglomerate and the director is worth an absolute fortune yet his staff members who should be employed only to take care of the children are filling about three different job roles.

It's new, it's exciting and it's actually quite pathetic

I had some new photos to post but I've suddenly turned into a techno loser. I can't make the computer do what I want it to do anymore. Well perhaps I could if I had the patience to sit and do things properly but patience isn't something I have much time for these days. Henry seems to have been possessed by the devil and so these days I really look forward to the time when he is sleeping. When he sleeps I turn into a robot and run around taking care of the things I can't take care of while he's awake and demanding that I get him 'bikkies, mulkshakes, oranges, baked beans, play cars, and read it".

I do that most times when he's sleeping. I have to confess though that I did spend some time yesterday while he was sleeping playing the Sims. The new sims expansion packs Maya and Riley got are WAY cool. The new sims can own businesses, go on dates, take magic potions, own cars, have twins AND we learned all the cheats. We can max out all their motives now so they never die from starvation or pee on the floor or have social services come and snatch their children from them. Now I have something to live for other than housework. The Sims!!!

Welcome to my world

Maya plays the Sims on the computer every single waking hour....almost. She created a family with a mother who doesn't work (paid work), a father and two kids. The mother is also pregnant with a third. The other day Maya proudly proclaimed that she had managed to get her Sims mother to do all the housework, learn to cook three different meals, do the gardening, look after the baby, get her older kid into a private school, do the shopping and spend time helping the kid with his homework all on her own without any help and she didn't have a nervous breakdown. All I could say was 'welcome to my world'.

Except in my world before 10.30am I've made three breakfasts, packed two lunches, done two loads of washing, made three beds, mopped the floor, washed the dishes, put away washing from three days ago, made 14 different drinks for Henry, managed to keep up a constant supply of snacks, paid two bills, had a shower and whipper snipped the lawn while he slept.

I want to be a Sim.

Because I couldn't email them....

Grandma sent Henry and Maya some new clothes. For some reason I couldn't email these photos to her. With a husband who is a computer tech you'd think that wouldn't be possible, but ......

Here are the photos Grandma.

PS Maya is stiking that ridiculous pose because until I got her crutches after she sprained her ankle she had to drag herself around on the floor (bad mother!). In this pic she is looking directly at Henry as we see him in the top photo.

So Puff

Maya and her friend Milly won a T-Shirt in a Domino's pizza So Puff hourly photo competition with this photo. So Puff!

Henry's new sleeping bag. Nana bought this for day care.

The difference is all in the milk.....and trucks

Henry has his appetite back! I'm not sure whether or not his change back to his usual bright and hungry self has anything to do with the change from cows milk to soy but he has certainly improved. This morning before 9am he had eaten some mice pupples (rice bubbles), a banana, toast with vegemite, creamed rice and half a sausage. He's had a cup of soy milk and a glass of juice to top it off. Not even I can do that. His behaviour has improved too. He's happy, doesn't whine and I can even leave the room now. But that is not the most exciting news of the day. This morning the postman delivered this Twuck Book all the way from Grandpa Richard in America.






It's moments like these that I wish his grandparents could be here. It's hard to describe the excitement he exudes when he opens these parcels and sees something new and related to trucks. He stops breathing just for a few seconds and then lets out a big "woooowowow". He just stares at it and examines the cover before daring to open it and check out the inside. When he does open it he doesn't know where to look first. He quickly scans through all the pages and then comes back to do it more slowly. The whole time his eyes are darting back and forth over the pictures in case he misses something. He then carries that new book around for about three or four days and will hit anyone who comes within three metres of him with it across the legs and force them to read it to him.

Thank you Grandpa Richard. This one is sure to be read to death, literally. His others have all gone to the book hospital several times and are still hanging in there. Ben downloaded some truck images from the internet and now Henry and I have to sit at the computer up to ten times a day to look at them. He comes to me and pulls me towards the computer and says "bobcat". If I don't respond within a few minutes he just tries to get up to the desk himself and hope he can navigate his way to the folder they're kept in.

I also wanted to share some other photos with you. Our student, Anna, from Japan has prepared us a few delicious Japanese style meals. Now we love our food and so we've been very happy to try some authentic style Japanese food. The other night she made sushi the way the Japanese would eat it. She said at home they wouldn't eat it as a roll. They serve it with the rice, avocado, ginger, cucumber and nori in a bowl and extra nori if someone prefers to roll it up and eat it that way. She also made some delicious Japanese style potatoes which were cooked in a beef flavoured buillon. I've got to say it was really very tasty and fresh. The Japanese have such a healthy diet.

Oscar Frocks

I've got to agree with the Triple J Breakfast crew. Aside from the frocks there is nothing remotely exciting about the Oscars and that excitement only lasts all of about 8 minutes.

First public tantrum

Henry threw his first public tantrum today. On our way home from Toowoomba we decided to stop at a major discount department store to grab a few things to save me having to go out again after we got home. I decided to check out the matchbox cars collection as we've been hoping to find a garbage truck which we believe forms part of the Hero City Collection. So far we've had no luck. We had no luck today either but since we were in the vicinity of all things trucking Henry thought he should have something anyway. I was going to buy an inexpensive matchbox car but the one I gave him to check out promptly got thrown on the floor from his seat in the pram and his arm pointed upwards and his fingers opened and closed as they do when he sees something out of his reach that he wants. I looked up to see what it was and it was a very expensive car transport truck that was also too large. I picked up the car that he had thrown on the floor and absentmindedly handed it back to him to get ready to leave. He threw it down again and pointed again to the large car transporter. I said "no not today" and started to push the pram away from the trucks when he let out this almightly screech and strained against his straps trying to free himself. I kept walking and chose to ignore him but the further away we got the louder he screeched. Of course everyone in the shop had to look my way as they do whenever a kid in a shopping centre screeches. Those that do this have either never had unprotected sex resulting in the birth of a child who makes it to toddler hood or have perfect new borns and their eyes still see everything in a rose coloured light. These people have usually read all the child psychology books too on how to avoid a public tantrum and think they'll raise a perfect child who will never protest about anything, ever. Their kids will be just like those on a Myareyouashoplifter manchester ad. All fluffy, light, clean and beautiful. Anyway, the screeching continued and I kept a stiff smile on my face as I stared back at those that dared to stare at me. He screeched as we paid for our items at the checkout and screeched right through the centre until we reached the car park. That was when I gave him a stern lecture about how his behaviour was inappropriate and that I expected better from him and I was so disappointed, blah, blah, blah..... I've read the child psychology books too. Their advice never works believe me. The only thing that does is to completely ignore it and carry on business as usual.

This all came after a week of irrational behaviour from our precious son. Since he had the stomach bug his behaviour has changed dramatically. He went from being a fun loving, happy-go-lucky, balanced little boy with an enormous appetite to a clingy, whiner who won't eat anything that isn't dripping with enough sugar to cause a cavity just by looking at it. His body functions have not returned to normal. I won't go into detail about that but I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. Anyway to cut a long story short I've decided to try him on soy or rice milk in case he has developed his father's intolerance for dairy and have started giving him a multi-vitamin to try to make up for the lost vitamins through lack of food. We'll see if any of that changes his behaviour and helps him return to normal.

If the tantrums continue I'm going to lock myself in a cupboard and not come out until he is old enough to leave home.

See Digger

This is what Henry and I spent the day doing yesterday. This and looking at trucks, cars, backhoes, excavators and diggers on the internet. That was in between answering the call for Mice Pupples, otherwise known as Rice Bubbles.

Poseur!

Creation

Maya's latest creation from her design classes.

The Tale Of Joggin Wood and Princess Fatbum

Today it's Maya's turn in my bragfest. The following is a story she wrote for school. I think it's fantastic, funny and cute. They had to write a short comedic fantasy story. She is the only one in her class who actually stuck to the word limit and managed to include all the elements of a good short story. Enjoy the read if you're happy to sit all the way through.

note: a possman is a man who is half possum, half man.


A long time ago in a small village close to the sea there lived a young possman boy named Joggin Wood. Now Joggin was no ordinary boy as he had magical hero powers that made him able to climb trees like a possum and save lives. But he had one major weakness; the common potato chip. Every time one of these salty treats touched his skin, his face and body festered into hideous boils and welts that made him look like a monster.

Time went by and Joggin quickly grew into a handsome young possman with many friends. One night he was watching BBC TV and there was a news flash about the Princess of Bamsterdam. She had been kidnapped!!! Joggin knew what he had to do so he quickly jumped up and slipped into his hero suit. He was going to rescue Princess Fatbum. Princess Fatbum was the most beautiful possum in the kingdom and she was also the smartest.

He set out to rescue her on his trusty stallion Jarry. Jarry was the fastest horse in the world and he could also fly. They were galloping through the woods at top speed when suddenly a house appeared. Joggin could hear wailing coming from the house and quickly jumped off his horse to inspect what was going on inside. He opened the door and there was a little old lady in the corner trapped under a tree branch. "Help me Joggin", she screamed, " my legs are trapped under this tree branch". Joggin sped over to the old lady quickly, gnawed through the wood and pulled it away. He looked at his watch and saw that it was time to have dinner so he ran to his horse, jumped on and rode off to find somewhere to set up camp for the night.

After a good night's sleep he started off on his journey to the west. Finally he arrived at his destination and jumped off his horse to inspect the surrounding bushland. He knew she was hidden here but he couldn't figure out where. Suddenly he heard a rustle in the bushes and turned around to see what was making the noise. Suddenly three ninjas jumped out at him and tried to chop his head off with nun chucks but he fought them off by biting them in half. He turned around and there was another one behind him but this time he had something much more powerful than nun chucks. He had potato chips!!! He could feel his skin start to boil and swell up but he knew that he could overcome his weakness. With that he flung his sword in the direction of the potato chip holder and it hit him and chopped him in half. He could now hear the Princess in the trees. He climbed up the tree and grabbed her. Then they rode off into the sunset and lived happily ever after.

Style Cut update

It just occurred to me to let you know how I went with my "hair/style/trim/cut..whatever".

When I walked in the door they remembered me and were all super cool towards me. All except the girl who did the shampoo. She wasn't there the day I discussed the cost of the haircut so she was very nice and gave me the most wonderful massage while she shampooed. When it came time for the cut the hairdresser hadn't relaxed and was determined to make sure I knew she felt some disdain towards me. When she asked me what I would like done her words came out muffled and sounded something like this: "Sooooo, painful, questioning customer, what were you thinking you'd like done today?" (chin pointed down and eyes rolled heavenwards).
I told her I just wanted a trim. She took a deep breath and I could tell she was about to launch into some rampage about what a trim might be but she must have let it pass and thought better of it. She cut away and as she was doing so I asked her exactly what I was expected to pay today. She told me it would cost me $30. I again reminded her that the voucher said only $20 and that was all I was willing to pay. By this time I was so determined but would probably have still been happy to pay the $30 but it was the priniciple of the thing and I wasn't about to let it go. She let out an enormous sigh and said "ok". She just wanted to get rid of me and get me out of there. I could tell. But her disdain seemed to dissolve because in the end she gave me a great hair cut and we had a lovely and fun conversation and I only paid $20.

Project Vomit

I was about to start my blog this morning by mentioning Carla's lanscaping project and comparing something as exciting as that to the vomit that continues to permeate my home. But then I read her blog and discovered that her baby daughter has had the same thing. She's been cleaning up vomit and poo also. Maya stayed home yesterday but her supposed illness never amounted to anything so I sent her to school today but our student, Anna, has been awake since very early morning with it. Henry decided he'd vomit once more last night just before dinner and the horror of that was that he had eaten a fair amount of food through the day yesterday. Ben and I have so far managed to escape it.

For something unrelated to vomit here is a picture taken very early this morning (before 5am) by Ben who somehow managed to spot this tiny frog in the dark on our back deck. He's rather beautiful don't you think?