Dunkin' Delphi

BallFiend: Delphi's all wet again. He fell in the terrlet (that's how BallFiend pronounces 'toilet'). I picked him out and dried him... (groans from DeepSpice and me) and the ball fell in and I picked it out and washed it... (more groans, as we steel ourselves to deal with the clean-up).

Delphi, with us at the beach
(some hours prior to the aforementioned dunny-dive)

--

The things we do for our offspring!

This is an email I have just sent to BallFiend's kindergarten teacher. I think this is the strangest email I have ever had to write!

On 22/10/2011 3:47 PM, Stompy wrote:

Hi D.

BallFiend got a bit upset when he got home on Friday because he realised he had left his 'bead boxes' behind in the kinder room. He said he made them to put beads in (I'm assuming he did so at the craft table).

Apparently the two boxes are brown and are identical size/shape, however BallFiend then squashed one up as part of the creative process. He showed me how big they are with his hands... I'm guessing about the size of a shoe box. They have sticky tape and various other things stuck on them and a hole for the beads to go in.

If they are still there on Monday (assuming you can identify them!), would you be able to put them aside for him? (And if you can't find them, I suspect he will have forgotten about them in a few days time anyway).

thanks,
Stompy

 --

Human canvas

DeepSpice just pointed out that my elbow has been drawn on.

Earlier today, I gave Thumper paper and a black pen so she could do a drawing. She sat at the kids table, which is right next to my desk, and scrawled away for a few minutes. Then when she finished, I took the pen away and put it safely out of reach (a lesson I have learned due to previous occasions of crayons and permanent markers being used to graffiti our walls) .

So now I am wondering: how the hell did she managed to walk over to me and draw on my elbow without me noticing it! What is this child? Some kind of blonde-haired, body-art-loving ninja ?

--

Anyone fancy a pigeon?

During dinner last night, we heard a strange sound coming from the back of the house, so DeepSpice went to investigate. There was a pigeon on the back deck, huddled in against the corner of our house. The kids thought it was quite interesting, I just thought it was annoying. I hate wild pigeons with a passion. They are disgusting, filthy animals (and I wish people would stop feeding them at the mall where I shop!). 

However, as it didn't try to get away when we went near so we guessed it was tame and on closer inspection we could also see it had an injured leg and wing. Now, I also don't particularly like any animals kept as pets - dogs, cats, birds, whatever. As I write this post, the neighbour's dog is yapping away and driving me crazy. And I still bear a grudge against the various wild birds that have made their way down our chimneys in the past. So the last thing I want to have to deal with is someone's injured pet pigeon. But I am not inhumane, and so began the long night of phone calls to try and find out what to do... 

First I rang the local council's after hours emergency line. They told me to ring Wild Life Australia. Wild Life Australia gave me some numbers for various local pigeon societies: the Melbourne Pigeon Society, the Victorian Pigeon Society and the Dandenong Pigeon Society. I did, of course, also search the Web and came up with a few somewhat helpful pages: the Australian National Pigeon Association and the Victorian Racing Pigeon Union. But they all assumed that I wanted to feed and care for this 'found' pigeon. I didn't - I just wanted someone who actually cared to come and get it.

So I started working my way through the list of phone numbers - first M. who told me to call him back in the morning to get the number for someone else. So next I rang J. who told me to call K. He said it was going to be unlikely that anyone will take the bird, because there is currently a contagious pigeon virus around and so the authorities have banned all pigeons from being released or moved. Great. Luckily though, K was happy to take the bird and said I could drop it over to him the next morning (assuming the bird lived through the night, about which I was doubtful). 

This morning, after checking that the bird was still alive (it was), I packed the car with kids, snacks, nappy bag and the pigeon and started on our 26 km round trip to deliver the bird. When we arrived at K's house, he was waiting out the front. He was a lovely old chap, a great-grandfather and clearly a bird lover, as he showed me and the kids around his many cages (aviaries?) of birds - cockatiels, parrots, canaries, finches and enormous Canadian pigeons that you can pick up for the bargain price of $2000 each! 

The kids got bored and wandered back towards the house, leaving me stuck with K. and having to feign an interest in all the birds. Suddenly, K. disappeared through a doorway and returned with a pigeon that has curly feathers. (I have to admit that was quite interesting as an example of selective breeding.) When I eventually made my way back to the house, I found Thumper sitting on the knee K's wife having a lovely chat and BallFiend persistently asking if he could come into the house. I dunno, kids these days - no manners! K. on the other hand wanted to offer the kids lemonade. However, it was time for us to go, as I had to get BallFiend back for kindergarten (I am so glad that the term break is over!), so we said goodbye and headed home. 

Now all that is left to do is clean up the bird shit from the back deck and clean the back of the car. I am really sick of cleaning up shit. I really hope this is the last time I have to have anything more to do with birds... unless it is roast chicken.   

-- 

A wobbly start

BallFiend has just discovered that one of his bottom teeth is a little bit wobbly! He is, of course, thrilled.
I am, of course, filled with sadness as yet another vestige of my first child's babyhood is relegated to the past.
--

Conversation starter

I've talked with BallFiend on many previous occasions about human reproduction, as has DeepSpice. So far it has just been the very bare basics. We have followed the philosphy of trying to answer the question that has been asked (and only the question asked!) as simply as possible. Leave it at that. Never elaborate. (A tip sheet on talking to kids about sex , published by the WA Department of Health, gives some good guidelines for handling this stuff.)

So he already knows that men have 'seeds' and women have 'eggs' and he know the correct names for various body parts.

Anyway, I was driving home from the shops, with both kids in the backseat when BallFiend pipes up, and completely out of the blue starts asks "So how do you catch the seeds? Do you catch them in a bucket?"

He got a very long silence in reply as my mind played through several answers that, whilst I knew would be funny, wouldn't be appropriate to give to a 5 year old. Would have broken the "Never elaborate" rule for starters!
--

Striving for balance

Thumper: Put your spoon on your head!
(giggles and mirth erupts) 
BallFiend: Put your marble on your head!
(more giggles and mirth)
 Thumper: I don't have my marble, silly! It's under the couch.
(even more giggles and mirth)
--

Stop, or the pumpkin gets it!

Thumper was sitting on a stool at the bench watching as I cut up a pumpkin. As I started cutting the skin off it, Thumper suddenly started crying. I looked up from the pumpkin and asked her "What's wrong?".
Thumper just said "No! No!" and continued to cry.
I asked her again "Why are you crying?"
She said "Hurting! hurting..."

I wondered if she had somehow hurt herself, but couldn't see how, so I resumed cutting the skin off the pumpkin and she immediately cried out "Stop hurting it!".
And then I finally realised.... "Do you think I am hurting the pumpkin?"
"Yes! Stop hurting it!" Thumper insisted.
--

Uh-oh broccoli

"Oh no! I broken the handle!"
- Thumper holding a piece of broccoli, with the stalk in one hand, floret in the other.

--

What goes, ninky-donk, ninky-donk, ninky-donk?

"There's the Ninky-Donk. The Ninky-Donk is walking."
- Thumper, watching In the Night Garden... and let's face it, making about as much sense as the show itself does!
--

My my my

"That's my's!"
- Thumper

Hmm.. she seems to have regressed - she used to say "that's mine".
--

She was only unsupervised for a few minutes...

I had just arrived home, after picking up BallFiend from kinder and Thumper from creche. BallFiend was desperate to play with one of his toys (just recently received as a birthday present) and he raced down our long hallway to the back of the house to get started. I followed, assuming Thumper would be right behind me, and began helping BallFiend unpack the many, many pieces of the toy.

After a few minutes I realised that Thumper:
a) had not followed us down the to back room yet (she is usually right behind BallFiend), and
b) was very, very quiet.

Not a good sign. I hurried back to where she had last been seen, by the front door. And immediately realised I had left the door to our study open. Thumper had of course gone straight to my desk and armed herself with implements of destruction: black and red markers.

As I walked into the room, I found her drawing on the lid of a plastic tub. Thinking I'd got off lightly, I opened my mouth to start "the Talk" but she got in first... She took one look at me, put on a defiant face (presumably to mask the guilty one), re-capped the red marker and marched over to the drawer saying, in very matter-of-fact manner, "I'm just putting this away". She opened the drawer and placed the red marker inside.

It was then that I noticed the black scribbles all over the drawer-front of my beautiful 1960s Danish teak writing desk. I love this desk, I have had it since I was about 16 years old, before that it was my father's and originally it was my grandfather's desk. It's the sort of thing you pay a small fortune for in trendy vintage/retro furniture stores these days.

So anyway, I freaked out just a little bit and Thumper promptly burst into tears and ran away. I ran for a microfibre cloth and started scrubbing. Thankfully the marks came off, so either I was lucky and she had actually used a black whiteboard marker, rather than a permanent marker, or I just got onto it quickly enough.

Either way, I am going to be a lot more vigilant now. Next thing you know, she'll be out tagging trains.
--

BallFiend's Birthday Week Bake-a-thon

Last week was spent celebrating BallFiend's 5th birthday...

• On Friday, I sent BallFiend off to creche with a green-and-chocolate swirl cake to share.
• On Saturday, we held a party with his friends.
• On Sunday, we hosted an afternoon tea with the extended family.
• On Monday (his actual birthday), we chilled out at home.
• On Tuesday, I made gluten-free, egg-free, nut-free (flavour-free!) cup-cakes for him to take to Kinder to share.

Saturday's party was held at the local scout hall with 10 of BallFiend's kinder, creche and other friends, including MasterF, MasterW, LittleMissIz, Thing1 and Thing2 (daughters of FunkyOrganMan and ThingMaker). The party had a green-theme (a really simple theme to do - I can highly recommend it!). We had green balloons, a green table-cover, green napkins, plates, cutlery and of course all the food was green:

• pea and ham soup served in green cups;
• avocado dip with celery sticks for dipping (also some corn chips in green tubs);
• green jelly; 
• green-and-white coconut ice (which DeepSpice and I between us took four attempts to get right and then the kids didn't eat it anyway, but that was OK because all the groan-ups loved it!);
• a fruit platter of green(ish) fruits - Granny Smith apples, green pears and green grapes;
• the birthday cake was a butter cake with a green swirl through it and iced in green icing.

I also got 3 metres of neon-lime green tulle from Spotlight (on the discount table... I wonder why!) and made the kids green headbands to wear. We played a few games involving green straws but mostly the kids just played around in the hall. It was the easiest kids birthday party I've ever organised. Although I have to give fair credit to all the parents who hung around and helped out. I was assuming that being a five-year-old party, at least some of the parents would drop their children off for the 2 hours. But none did, and all were roped in to help with blowing up balloons, party games, food preparation and sorting out disputes! I was really glad that they did all end up staying.

Sunday's afternoon tea was attended by Gran, GrandPaul, StompyDad, CutLuce, DesignerMonkey, Cuz1, DesignerSis, Wigward and Great-Aunt-F (GrandPaul's sister) and her husband Great-Uncle-M. BallFiend and I made yet another birthday cake (banana with chocolate chips at BallFiend's request), and we ate party left-overs as well as Gran's chicken sandwiches and Great-Aunt-F's scones. Yummo!

By Monday (BallFiend's actual birthday), we were all too exhausted to do anything much at all. So after going to his usual swimming lesson, we came straight home so BallFiend could get down to the serious business of playing with all the toys he received as gifts. Highlights were:

• the mega-mega-soccerball (about 60cm diametre) from his aunt CutLuce and uncle DesignerMonkey.
• the gi-normous Earth beach ball (68cm diametre) from his aunt DesignerSis and uncle Wigward. (I'm sure DeepSpice would beg to differ with the promotional description that "It only takes a few huffs and puffs to fill this globe full of air" - he spent the first half hour of Sunday's afternoon tea blowing it up!)
• the foil "Happy Birthday balloon" on a stick from Cuz1.
• the green helium-filled balloons from Gran and GrandPaul.
• all the green balloons left over from the birthday party.

He also received several Lego kits and has been enjoying them a lot (as has Thumper), books, games, a marble run, construction toys, outdoor adventuring tools, dinosaur kits, a watering can and more. Some of the toys have been packed away so I can bring them out in instalments. There's easily enough to last him until Xmas time!

Overall he was totally indulged and doesn't really (know how to) appreciate it, but it doesn't matter... I loved seeing him so excited as he ripped open presents and how he got even more excited if they turned out to contain anything vaguely spherical. 
--

Census Day!

On Census Day five years ago, I personally upped the population of Australia by one: little BallFiend popped out at 1.46 pm on Tuesday 8th August 2006, and as a reward for our efforts the ABS gave him a t-shirt (which didn't fit him until nearly 3 months later).

BallFiend in his Census T-Shirt, at 9 weeks old. 

Given he was 17 days overdue, it's not entirely surprising that he came in time for the Census, but during the last few days of my pregnancy I was sure he would wait to be born on the day after the Census and we would have to wait another 5 years before he could become an official population statistic.

The funny thing is that once I went into labour, I completely forgot about it being Census Day. It wasn't until about 8.00 pm that evening, when a Census officer visited us in our hospital room to give us a form that we realised BallFiend had in fact "made the count".

Today, BallFiend is equally as disinterested in the Census as he was five years ago. Fair enough too.

BallFiend aged 5 years and, as you can see, still lazing about on the couch.
Thumper joins him for a pretend afternoon kip.

DeepSpice and I will complete the Census questions tonight (online - hooray for technological advancements!) and this time around, we get to add Thumper to our Census form. (Though if you had asked me five years ago, I would have said there is no way on Earth we are going to have a second baby!) We will also be marking "no religion", although if there was a religion devoted to the worship of balls, I might feel somewhat obliged to tick that box on BallFiend's behalf.
--

Bittersweet birthday

Today, my Mum would have been 64 years old, though in my memory she remains a beautiful 53 year old woman... that is one thing that can be said in favour of dying early. I can't imagine how she might look now if she was still alive, how she might have aged. And I'm sure she would have been happy about that. Before she died, Mum said to me that she wanted us to remember her as she was: a happy, outgoing person - not the way she was at the end of her illness. I can honestly say that I never have any trouble remembering her when she was well, whereas I have to work hard to conjure up memories of her when she was sick.

I keep finding myself wondering what it would be like if she was still here... wishing my children could meet their grandmother. I still find it hard to believe she has been gone for 10 years now. 

Today I am busily preparing for BallFiend's birthday party, which we are having tomorrow at a local scout hall. It's a green party so we are all wearing green clothes and having green-coloured food. As I never wear green (too many years of wearing a green school uniform!), on Wednesday I scoured a local op-shop and found a couple of green scarves for $1 each. The birthday cake - with a green swirl through it - is currently in the oven, green pea and ham soup is bubbling away slowly on the stove and when BallFiend comes home from kinder, we will make the green jelly. We have green balloons, green plates, green cups, green napkins and green spoons. By the way, did I mention that BallFiend's favourite colour is green? 

Organising BallFiend's birthday party makes me feel connected to Mum. She always organised lovely birthday parties for me and my sisters, and made amazing birthday cakes. I like to be able to do the same for my children. I just wish my Mum was here too. 

--

Daddy bird

There's a TV show called Portlandia that I came across when someone posted a link to it on Facebook. It's pretty funny. I've only seen clips on YouTube as it hasn't been on free-to-air TV here. My favourite clip is the "Put a bird on it" one.

The other day, soon after our last date - during which we had visited a boutique store which had designer bags and other things with birds on them - DeepSpice and I were mucking about with the kids and telling them to "put a bird on it" as they kept holding up different toys and things. Anyway, after a while the kids got the idea and joined in the game, telling us to "put a bird on it" for almost every item we touched and everybody was laughing.

A few hours later, DeepSpice and Thumper were sitting together, with Thumper busily throwing things off the couch. DeepSpice kept asking her to put things back up on the couch, and they inevitably started up the good ol' "put a bird on it" banter. Suddenly Thumper came out with "Put a daddy on it", followed by a big, cheesy grin. She'd just made her first joke... and she knew it - the next thing she said was  "I'm joking".
--

Melbourne Open House

Thanks to DeepSpice's willingness to stay home and 'man' the fort, I was able to escape into the city for Melbourne Open House 2011. I'd really wanted to go in 2010 but hadn't managed to get there. So this year, I was very excited to have a day out on my own, sans kids!

I started out at the ANZ Gothic Bank, which was amazing! Unfortunately, I had to wait in a 90 minute queue for the ANZ Bank, so I only got to another two buildings before it was time to go home: the former Public  Records Office of Victoria and former Land Titles Office. 

Below is a photo I took of the teeny, tiny staircase in the former Land Titles Office - it is a really steep spiral staircase, carved out of a single piece of bluestone. I have no idea how it can be cut so thin and yet still be strong enough to walk on.

--

Not quite a nightmare

6.00 am this morning, wails come from BallFiend's bedroom, so I go in to investigate...

Me: What's wrong, why are you crying?
BallFiend: I had a dream that you popped all my balls. It was a bit of a (voice quavers)... sad dream.
Pause. More passionate crying.
BallFiend: Why did you pop all my balls Mum?
--

Fanning the Flames, Flaming the Fans

I think I have just been drawn into combat... drawn into my very own, first ever, personal flame-war, by an evil parrot-troll hybrid.

As a show of good sportspersonship, I shall extend my now-nemesis the same courtesy that he/she has shown me by preserving his/her anonymity and hereafter referring to him/her only as "Phil" and not once shall I refer to Phil as FreeloadingPhill (despite the fact that Phil is, by Phil's own decree, a free-loader).

I will not endeavour to fan the flames by making any derogatory remarks regarding my opponent's character.

Nor do I deny that, in the course of reclaiming this, my blog, I adopted a certain naming convention when referring to the subjects of my posts, which may or may not have originated from freeloadingphill.blogspot.com, and I hereby declare that this was done purely with the intent of copy-catting (imitation being, as we well know, the sincerest form of flattery). 

In the interests of resolving this matter amicably I, Stompy, declare and affirm as follows: 

1. I don't really like parrots. However, as with most creatures, they can - under the right circumstances - provide a certain amusement to help one pass the time. 
2. I don't really mind trolls, especially those ones with the long fluorescent hair that people used to have on their keychains in the 90s. I'm fairly certain that the very manly and virile drummer in a band I used to be in used to have one in his car for good luck. And apparently those trolls-dolls were "My Little Ponys for boys", so maybe he had a whole collection... I never actually opened the [Pandora's] glove box to check.
3. In order to create stakeholder engagement, whilst achieving productivity benchmarks, moving forward, the necessity for blog-owners to "additionalise the content of [one's] communications" (provided properly-credited reference to the originating blog is made) is acceptable in the context of strategic practice.
4. Ner-ner-ner-ner-ner. No backs, no refunds. 

Now, if you would be so kind as to pass me a drumstick, I have a marshmallow waiting to be toasted.
--

Smilk

Thumper: want s'milk, want s'milk!
Me (teasing): you want "smilk"?
Thumper: No silly, I want [now enunciating perfectly] some milk!

Gotta love it when a nearly two year old puts you in your place.
--