A Royal Pain in the Throat

July 29th, 1981.

I was 7 years old. I watched, at first with interest and then with increasing concern, as StompyDad bustled back and forth between the TV in the lounge room and the hi-fi in the 'family' room, trying to set up the ABC radio simulcast before the big event began: Prince Charles & Lady Di, the Royal wedding.


Meanwhile, my long-suffering mother was busy preparing dinner -- fish -- whilst trying to calm StompyDad before he got into a complete tizz. CutLuce, then my cute little sister, was somewhere about too... probably hiding from me -- her nasty big sister who hadn't gotten over being dethroned 5 years previously (a grudge I continued to hold for about another 20 years, really sorry about that sis) -- in case I pinched her again. No DesignerSis yet... still another 3 years to wait for her arrival.

I think I was quite excited about the wedding - after all, what little girl doesn't love the idea of seeing a real, live princess? Or maybe it was just that we were going to be allowed to eat whilst sitting in front of the TV and I would get to stay up late.

Eventually, Mum, CutLuce & I sat down to eat, while StompyDad continued to fuss about trying to get the radio tuned just-so and the aerial adjusted on the TV just-right, all the while getting more stressed.

Finally, after much stomping about, accompanied by much ranting, StompyDad joined us and sat down to eat. He began wolfing down great mouthfuls of his dinner whilst still complaining about the failings of the household technology to deliver perfect Royal wedding sound and vision.

Lady Di was still in her carriage on the way to the church, waving demurely. She hadn't even had the chance to show off her 25ft train yet, when StompyDad was on his feet again. This time not yelling but coughing, gagging and spitting a mouthful of fish and vegies back out onto his plate.

Eventually, mum worked out what had happened - he had got a fish bone stuck in his throat.


"Bread! Bread!" a panicked StompyDad demanded. 

"I need it to help swallow down the bone." 

He raced to the kitchen and proceeded to wolf down great hunks of bread. 

But the fish bone was tenacious. 

I don't remember very clearly what happened next with the fish bone, but I do remember getting to watch the rest of the wedding, so I think that StompyDad went over the road to see DoctorH our neighbour and friend, who was also, conveniently, a GP. When he returned some time later, having missed the Royal wedding ceremony (and there was no catching up later on iView; in those days we didn't even have a VCR!), the fish bone was still firmly in place. DoctorH needed special equipment to get that bony morsel out and had told StompyDad to come to the clinic the next morning. 

Anyway, here I am, thirty years later, bitterly disappointed that I cannot watch The Chaser's commentary of today's Royal wedding (and as a result not-watching the Will & Kate Royal wedding at all). But guess what? We had fish for dinner: smoked salmon with pasta, and pulled it off without a single fish-bone mishap. Phew.

--

PAM

An exchange whilst in the car, driving around Bendigo:
BallFiend: we're going down a fast PAM.
DeepSpice: what's a PAM?
BallFiend: It's a fast bit of ham, but sloped uphill. (giggles a lot).
--

Kiss and tell

Conversation tonight whilst getting dinner ready...

Me: Hey Thumper, did you play with Shaunie [another child at creche] today?
Thumper: Shaunie!
Me: So you did play with Shaunie?
Thumper (nodding): Iss! Iss!
Me: Did you have fun?
Thumper: "Kiss."
Me: Did you kiss Shaunie!

Thumper (nodding again): Iss. 

Then she gave me a big cheesy grin. 

All I could think is "Uh-oh. She's going to be one hell of a teenager!" 

--

Potty 3, Floor 3

Thumper's potty antics are continuing at a steady pace. Most days for the past week have entailed a nappy-free time of 1 -3 hours. Most days, she successfully sits on the potty and on many occasions she even successfully deposits something into the potty. It is not often the traditional ones-and-twos. Sometimes it's a toy, sometimes it's a hand or foot as she attempts to clamber on. (Don't worry, the potty gets thoroughly cleaned after each 'successful' use!)

Here's a sample of life with a 19-month old toddler who wants to use the potty but clearly has neither the gross motor skills or much of an idea of exactly how to go about it... 

On Thursday I sat down to breakfast at about 9 am; Thumper was already in the high chair eating finishing her breakfast.
Suddenly she started squirming and trying to get out and saying 'poo, poo!'. So I get her down, whip off the nappy and help her sit on the potty. Ten seconds later she is up and playing. Then she asks to get back in the high chair to finish her breakfast. So I sit her on a terry-towelling flat nappy and she continues eating, as do I. Thirrty seconds later she starts squirming and trying to get out and saying 'poo, poo!'. There's already a spot on the nappy under her bum. So back to the potty for round two. Nothing. She gets up and starts playing. Then a minute later says 'wee!'. I look over to see most of a poo on the floor and the remainder still emerging. So I quickly try to help her back on the potty to finish the job... just as the last of it hits the floor. I clean up the floor, Thumper, the potty and the nappy on the high chair. Thumper continues to run around nappy-free (surely she must be good for at least half an hour now?) and I make another attempt to sit down and eat my breakfast. A few minutes later, Thumper starts saying 'poo, poo!' and looking distressed. This time, she has done a wee on the floor. She goes to the potty again while I clean up the floor, then her feet. Then I re-nappy her leaky ass! Finally, one hour and fifteen minutes later, I get to finish my soggy cereal. 

Oh well, it's pleasing to know she is motivated even if she still can't distinguish between 'wee' and 'poo'. And at least we have floorboards, not carpet. 

The scoreboard, if I had been keeping track, would look something like this:

• potty: 5
• floor: 6
• nappies... umm still too many to count! 

--

Ode to Food

Food! Food! Everywhere!

There's food on your face and food in your hair!

There's food from your head right down to your feet!

Did you actually get any food to eat?

This is the poem I improvised whilst cleaning Thumper up after her breakfast today. Sadly no photographic evidence of today's food-as-art effort. So here's a look at her previous efforts instead...

Thumper at 6 months, enjoying avocado on rice biscuit.

Thumper at 10 months, weapon of choice: pasta with bolognese sauce. 

Thumper at 16 months. "Right, rinished smearing porridge everywhere, now to eat the bowl."

--

Seriously going potty!

She did it again!

Thumper was running around nappy-free after dinner. She was half-way up the hallway when she suddenly turned around and headed for the bathroom. She pointed at the potty and said 'sit down, sit down'. Then she sat down and did her first ever wee on the potty. A great sequel to yesterday's poo.

If she makes it three in a row tomorrow night, I might just start to believe this is not just a fluke.
--

Fashion Statement

"Thumb Hat!"
- says Thumper upon placing the lid from a texta onto her thumb.

Who knows, hats for thumbs could be the next big thing.
--

Feed me!

Dinner tonight: roast beef with roast potato, sweet potato and carrot, and steamed broccoli and beans.
Yum!

End of the meal... I'm full, DeepSpice is full.
But the kids want more, more, more.
So they eat 2 bowls of yogurt each.

They still want more, more, more. 

So they eat a huge slice of watermelon each.

They still want more, more, more. 

What to offer? 

All that is left in the fridge is some pumpkin soup.

"Yippee!" yells BallFiend.

"Sooop!" yells Thumper.

And so the kids ended up having a soup course at the end of tonight's meal. 

Weirdos.  

--

Going potty

Thumper just used the potty for the first time, aged 19 months! Seems like our decision to use cloth nappies as a means to earlier toileting might be paying off.
DeepSpice's sensitive nose detected the signs that something big was a-brewin' so he asked Thumper if she would like to sit on the potty. And she was keen to do so. A few minutes later there's a poo! But surprisingly no wee.

Don't kids usually do this sort of thing the other way around - start at number ones and work their way up to number twos?

--

Where's Mindy?

Thumper just came over to me with a carton of UHT milk in her hand saying "Mork, Mork".
--